Adam's Daughter (24 page)

“Adam, listen —-”

“I’ve been working my ass off to get things running smoothly again at the paper. And I’ve almost got this guy up in Oregon where I want him on the price of his newspaper.
Not now, Josh, please. I’ve got too much on my mind.”

“Kellen’s having problems at school, Adam,” Josh said. “Her grades have slipped. She’s getting into fights.”

“It’s that school,” Adam answered. “All she needs is a structured atmosphere, away from here.”

“Away?”

“She’s had her head filled with all those stories. It’s no wonder she’s having problems.” Adam paused. “She’d do better in a boarding school.”

“Adam, for
God’s sake, don’t send her away,” Josh said.

“It’s my decision, and I’ve made it. It’s for the best, Josh,” Adam said.

A week later, Kellen stood in the foyer, dressed in a new coat and hat, staring at the car that would take her to Monterey, where Adam had enrolled her in the Santa Catalina School for Girls. Stephen and Josh stood at her side and they all watched in silence as the chauffeur loaded the suitcases into the trunk.

K
ellen stood there stoically. She had done all her crying three days ago when Hildie had first told her she was being sent away. Those were not the words Hildie had used; she told Kellen she was going off to a fine school to get the best education, just like Ian did at Princeton.

But Kellen knew the truth. Her father didn’t want any part of her. He had not even bothered to tell her himself
, he had just gone off to Oregon and had come back just last night. He was sending her away, punishing her, and she didn’t know why.

Josh stepped forward to give her a hug. “Thanksgiving’s only a month away. We’ll see you then,” he said. He moved away so she could be alone with Stephen.

“You better write to me, Squirt,” Stephen said.

Kellen stared at the car, her chin trembling.

“Listen,” Stephen said. “Pretty soon I’ll have my driver’s permit. I can drive down to visit, with my dad, of course.”

He awkwardly kissed her cheek.
“It won’t be that bad,” he said. “Call me, if you need to.”

At that moment, the door of the study opened, and Adam appeared in the doorway. Kellen stared at him, her eyes hard as she fought back tears.

Adam came over to her. With a look at the others, he picked up the small travel satchel Hildie had prepared. He touched Kellen’s shoulder but she shrugged off his hand and walked slowly out the door.

He followed her out to the car, handing the bag to the chauffeur.

Kellen stared at the car for a moment then turned quickly to look up at Adam. Suddenly, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and they fell down her cheeks.

“Daddy
?” she said.

He stared at her. Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Be a good girl, Kellen,” he said.

He straightened and took a step back. She waited, but it was clear that he had nothing more to say. She got into the car beside Hildie and the door closed with a soft thud. The car pulled away and she turned to look out the rear window. Through her tears, she saw Adam standing there, alone in front of the big white house. He stood there unmoving, until the car turned down the hill and he disappeared.

CHAPTER THIRTY
-ONE

With Kellen gone, Adam withdrew even more into himself. His world shrank down to his office at the newspaper and his study at home, with an occasional trip to the Olympic Club to swim mindlessly in the pool.

Kellen never called him, and at Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter she didn’t come home, choosing instead to stay at
school. Two days after Passover ended, Josh came to the house for dinner. He sat at the table, watching Adam’s wan face.

Neither man spoke
and the candles cast long shadows in the large empty dining room. Josh sensed that Adam wanted to talk about something.

“What’s bothering you?” he finally asked.

Adam looked up. “Nothing really. Just that asshole in Portland trying to squeeze me for an extra million on his shitty rag. But I’ll pay it. It’s a good market.”

Josh waited. He knew how hard it was for Adam to talk. “It’s something else,” Josh said. “Is it Kellen? Is she having problems at the new school?”

“Nope. Nothing but great reports from the nuns. She’s a smart kid.” He sipped his coffee and smiled ironically. “She must really like that school,” he said. “She didn’t want to come home for any of the holidays, you know.”

Josh decided to plunge in. “Listen, there’s something you ought to know. Kellen is very angry with you. She’s been writing these long letters to Stephen
.”

“Angry? Why? For putting her in school? It’s one of the best in the country.”

“She’s angry because you shut her out of your life.” Josh paused, waiting for Adam’s usual quick rise of anger but it didn’t come. Instead, Adam stared at the tablecloth in silence.

“
Why did you send her away, Adam?” Josh asked.

Another silence. Then Adam ran his hand slowly over his eyes. “I couldn’t stand to look at her, Josh,” he said
. “She reminds me so much of Elizabeth.”

Josh had never seen Adam cry
and he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to see it now. “You hurt her,” Josh said finally. “She told Stephen she feels abandoned, ‘like an orphan’ was how she put it. She said that she feels she lost not only her mother but you, too.”

Adam’s eyes
traveling over the dining room. “This house is so empty, Josh. It’s driving me crazy. I sit here sometimes alone at night and hear and see things that aren’t there.”

“Bring Kellen home,” Josh said. “She needs you, Adam. And you need her.”

Adam closed his eyes. It was quiet for a long time. Finally, Josh picked up the coffee service and poured himself and Adam another cup. When he pushed the cup across the table Adam didn’t touch it.

“You haven’t been yourself, Adam.” Josh paused, picking his way carefully now, knowing he was treading on tender ground. “You need something in your life besides the newspapers. You need to be with people again. You need a social life.”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t need anything like that anymore, Josh.”

“You’re drying up inside.”

“What are you trying to tell me? That I should go out and get laid, for crissake?”

Josh took a long drink of coffee then set the cup down. He leaned closer across the table.
"Adam, I tell you this because I’m your friend. Elizabeth is gone. She’s been gone almost a year now. And she was sick for a long time before that. But you’re still here.”

“Get to your point, Josh.”

“My point is that Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted you to be like this. She loved life, and she taught you to do the same.”

Adam stared at Josh. “Are you done?” he asked finally.

Josh sat back in his chair. “Adam —-”

“It’s getting late, Josh.”

Josh recognized the tone of dismissal. He had pushed far enough for one night. He rose slowly. “It was an excellent dinner, Adam. I’ll see you at the office Monday. I’ll show myself out.”

“Josh?”

Josh looked back.

Adam paused. “Thanks for coming.”

Adam waited until he heard the front door close then went to his study. He sat down at his desk, reached into a drawer and pulled out a silver picture frame. It was a photograph of Elizabeth taken when she was thirty-five, in the fullest bloom of her beauty. He stared at it for a long time then set it down on the desk. It was the first time since the funeral he had looked at her picture.

He expected
some flood of emotion to engulf him. But nothing came. The emptiness surprised and saddened him. Maybe Josh was right, maybe he couldn’t feel anything anymore. But he knew that wasn’t true. He felt an overwhelming loneliness. It had been building for months, and now, suddenly, he ached for the nearness of another human being. He put Elizabeth’s picture back in the drawer.

He left the house and drove aimlessly around the city. After an hour, he pulled up to a stone mansion on Pine Street. He rang the bell, and a doorman appeared
.

“Mr. Bryant to see Miss Stanford, please,” Adam said.

Adam was ushered into an alcove then he followed a maid up a winding staircase into a large room with a glass ceiling and a fountain, its waters illuminated by colored lights.

“Adam, what a surprise.”

He turned at the sound of the voice. Sally Stanford glided toward him, smiling.

“You look
good, Sally,” he said. “So does your new place.”

“Oh, I’ve been here for years. You, however, have been away a long time. I was sorry to hear about your wife.”

Adam smiled politely. He was standing in one of the world’s most celebrated houses of prostitution, a house that had hosted some of the most famous men in the world. He knew that Sally could be counted on for complete discretion. But he suddenly felt vulnerable.

“Would you like a drink?” Sally asked
.

“Perhaps later.”

“I’ve changed things since we last saw each other, Adam. I have many lovely rooms, each decorated in a different mood.”

“I trust your judgment.”

She smiled. “And I never disappointed you. Claire will show you to your room. It’s good to see you again, Adam.”

The maid led Adam to a softly lit bedroom furnished with Victorian antiques. A fire crackled in the marble fireplace, and a selection of liquor and crystal sat on a sideboard. Adam poured a brandy, took off his coat and tie, and sat down on the bed.

After a few minutes, the door opened and a young woman stood there. She was medium height, with long blond hair. She was wearing a pink silk robe.

“I’m Marie,” she said. “And you are...?”

For a moment he thought of giving the woman a false name. “Adam,” he said.

She came into the room and sat down beside him on the bed. She was pretty, about twenty-five, with pale blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. “And what do you do, Adam?”

He stared at her. She didn’t know who he was. The anonymity made him relax slightly. “I work for a newspaper,” he said.

She glanced at his custom-made suit
, his shoes and watch, the quality not escaping her eye. She also saw the gold wedding band he still wore. Adam noticed her looking at it.

“I’m married,” he lied.

She smiled. “Most are,” she said.

She reached up to unbutton Adam’s shirt, and instinctively he pulled back. “You’re tense,” she said softly. She began to gently massage his shoulders. “I can feel how tight you are.”

Adam closed his eyes. Her fingers probing his muscles felt good. He could smell her perfume, a heavy oriental musk that didn’t suit her porcelain looks.

“Whatever it is,” she whispered, “
I can make it go away.”

When s
he leaned into him he could feel her breasts press against his back and her long hair brush his neck. Her hands moved lower down his sides and slowly over his thighs. He could feel himself growing hard. A jolt of guilt went through him as he thought of Elizabeth but he thrust it aside.

He turned quickly and pushed Marie down on the bed. He stripped off his clothes and untied her robe. In his urgency, he barely noticed her body. He lowered himself and entered her quickly and brusquely, losing himself in the sensation of his flesh against hers, soft and warm and yielding.
He thrust against her, thinking nothing, feeling everything. And when he came, he cried out and grasped her to him in a violent embrace.

He lay there for a moment, his face buried in her hair. He had come to this place a dead man, but his own body told him he wasn’t. Elizabeth was gone but he was alive, and he had to go on. The realization made him ache both with relief and unbearable sorrow.

He began to cry. Silent streams of tears fell down his cheeks. They grew into sobs and he let them come. His tears fell on Marie’s bare neck.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms across his back and rocked him gently.