Adam's Daughter (65 page)

Garrett brushed by her and headed toward the back of the house. His father was sitting alone at the table, amid the potted red geraniums, about to bite into a sausage. His fork stopped in midair when he saw Garrett. He stared at him for a moment then slowly put down the fork.

“Well, Garrett,” he said quietly, “What a surprise. Although not an altogether unexpected one, I might say.”

“I want to talk to you,” Garrett said.

“Yes, well...how about some tea?” Arthur said. When Garrett didn’t reply, he added, “Do sit down at least.”

Garrett took a chair, h
is eyes locked on Arthur. Arthur poured a cup of tea and put it in front of Garrett.

“You look dreadful,” he said slowly. “Perhaps you’d like a bath and a shave first.”

“Why did you do it?” Garrett asked evenly.

Arthur poured himself more tea to buy time before he answered. He was deliberately slow as he filled his cup from the silver service and added sugar and
milk. He picked up a spoon and stirred his tea. The silver clicked musically against the thin porcelain.

“It was an opportunity,” Arthur said. “An excellent one. I took it.”

“You didn’t even bother to consult me.”

Arthur carefully put the spoon down. “I didn’t think you were in a position to make a clear decision, Garrett.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, his face reddening slightly above his pristine white collar. “When Mr. Bryant and his mother came to see me last week,” he said, “they told me about your involvement with his sister. They said they had been eager to consummate this deal with you for some time but that because of your feelings for this woman you had failed to respond.”

“My feelings for Kellen are none of their business. Or yours for that matter,” Garrett said, struggling to keep his anger in check.

Arthur took a sip of his tea. “I understand this woman is married, with two young children.”

“That is none of your damn business either!”

Arthur looked up suddenly, beyond Garrett. Garrett turned and saw his mother standing at the door. She looked at Garrett, her hand at her throat, her eyes wide.

“Garrett...I thought I heard your voice,” she said.

“Helen, please leave us alone,” Arthur said. She continued to stare
at Garrett, making no move to leave.

“Helen, please!” Arthur said.

With a stricken look at Garrett, she left.

Garrett stared at
his father, waiting for him to say something. After a moment, Arthur sighed. “I can appreciate your anger with me, Garrett,” he said. “But you’ve got to understand that I did this for you.”

Garrett laughed. “For me? You did this for yourself! For your own bloody ego!”

Arthur looked at him calmly. “I did it for you.” He paused, frowning slightly. “I’m seventy-five, Garrett. I won’t be around forever to run things. I wanted to make sure I had enough to pass on to you. A real empire. This acquisition will make you one of the richest, most powerful men in America. It will certainly offset your bad situation in New York.” He paused again. “It was your own plan. I only carried it out for you, son.”

Garrett stared at him, incredulous, and for a brief moment, the words he was thinking nearly burst from his mouth. Son? he thought. I’m not your son. I have no connection to you. Instead, he looked away quickly.

“I had to do it,” Arthur said, “because you never would have.” He looked at Garrett thoughtfully. “You’ve always let your heart rule your head, Garrett, ever since you were a boy. I couldn’t let you do it in this case.”

Garrett rubbed his hands over his eyes.

“Do you remember Blue Boy?” Arthur asked. “Do you remember what happened when he broke his leg jumping over the hedge? He was suffering but you wouldn’t let me put him down. I know you hated me for that but I had to do it.” Arthur paused. “I know you blame me for what happened to Susan and the twins, too.”

Garrett looked up at him in shock. Never, not once in twenty years, had his father ever mentioned his deceased wife.

“You blamed me because, at the time, you needed someone to blame,” Arthur said.

“You drove her away,” Garrett
said.

Arthur stared at him. “She was leaving you, Garrett. You just didn’t want to face up to that fact.”

“She left only because you and Mother did everything you could to break up the marriage,” Garrett said angrily. “Your constant interference, your condescension. Do you think she didn’t feel it? It got so even she believed she wasn’t good enough for me. That’s why she left. That’s why she took the twins and ran off that night. It was your fault!”

“It was an accident,” Arthur said, “
a lorry driver who -—”

“You drove her to it,” Garrett said, his teeth clenched.

Arthur blinked rapidly. “We were only looking out for you, Garrett,” he said quietly. “She was seven years older than you, a divorced woman of no background with two children. You were just twenty, too young. We thought you deserved a chance to have your own family.”

“They were my family,” Garrett said, his voice cracking.

For a moment, neither man moved. Garrett was fighting to bring himself under control. He focused on the silver teapot sitting in the middle of the table, gleaming in the sun. He could hear the tapping of a branch on the glass overhead and then the muted whir of a vacuum cleaner starting up somewhere deep within the house. He pushed himself up wearily from the table, leaning on it for support.

“You told me once you needed something of your own,” Arthur said, almost under his breath. “
I thought this is what you wanted.”

Garrett looked at him, shaking his head. “You have no idea what you’ve cost me,” he said.

He stood there for a moment, wavering with fatigue. He looked around the room. He saw Helen hovering outside the doorway, her eyes wide with alarm. He took a step to leave.

Arthur rose quickly. “Garrett, stay, please. We’ll talk about this. You’ll
-—”

“No, I’m going back. I’m going home,” he said.

He left, walking by Helen without a word, and without looking back at Arthur, standing alone in the sun room.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

On Monday mo
rning, Kellen received the final papers from Ian. She had already spoken to Josh who had explained that Tyler’s consent made it binding and that she had no legal recourse. But she had waited until now to call Stephen in San Mateo. She told him what had happened, and for a long time the phone was silent, so great was Stephen’s shock.

“There’s got to be something we can do,” he said.

“There’s nothing you or anyone can do, Stephen.”

“Have you talked to Tyler?”

“I can’t find him,” Kellen said. “There’s been no answer at his house for days. I haven’t seen him in a month.” She had also tried to reach J.D., with no success.

“Stephen,
I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” she said, her voice wavering. “Ian’s lawyer sent a letter saying that after tomorrow I’m not allowed in the office.” She paused. “I’ve got to get to the paper. I’ve got to tell everyone before they hear it from somewhere else.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Stephen said.

Kellen got to the
Times
building just before ten and went quickly upstairs to the city room. When she stepped off the elevator, she froze. A large crowd was gathered around the bulletin board and she knew that somehow the news had gotten out. She made her way to the managing editor’s office. Ray looked up at her vacantly.

“They know, don’t they,” she said.

“The wire services got it. Someone put it on the bulletin board a few minutes ago.” He motioned her in and shut the door. Kellen dropped into a chair.

“Ray, I’m sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you and everyone.”

Ray shrugged despondently. “You want a drink?” He reached behind his desk to a mini-refrigerator and pulled out a can of diet soda. “Too bad I don’t stock some hard stuff, for real catastrophes,” he said.

Kellen looked out through the windows. People were milling around with stunned looks on their faces or talking in quiet knots. All work had stopped. She turned back to Ray. “You know I didn’t want this to happen.”

He nodded. “I know it was Ian’s doing. All of us old-timers know you were on our side. And we were on yours, too.”

Kellen glanced back at the crowd outside. “I’ve got to talk to them,” she said, rising. “Help me get them together.”

She went out into the newsroom, Ray trailing behind. He made an announcement and soon everyone had gathered around the main copy desk. Kellen stood before them, just as she had four months ago to explain the morning conversion plan. Then, she had confronted them with confidence and optimism. Now, she was numb with defeat. She glanced around at the stunned faces, feeling their fear and confusion. Suddenly, she had no idea of what to say. Only two words came into her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

She paused, no other words coming to her. There was no sound except the efficient tapping away of the wire machines and a phone ringing.

“I’m sorry,” she
said. “I betrayed your trust and I owe you all an apology.”

Her throat constricted, and she blinked rapidly to fight off the tears. She couldn’t break down. She had to leave them with something hopeful, something positive. She spotted Clark standing in the back of the crowd. He looked as shocked as anyone, but he smiled slightly and gave her a half-hearted thumbs-up sign. She took a deep breath, which gave her the second of control she needed.

“I know what a shock this is,” she said. “I know you’re all worried about what will happen to you, what will happen to the
Times
.” She paused. “I wish I could tell you. But I don’t know.” She stopped again, afraid her voice would not hold. “I do know, however, that you are the finest group of people anyone could ask for and I’ve been proud to work with you. You put out a hell of a newspaper. A great newspaper. No one can take that away.”

She paused again as the faces before her began to blur through her tears. “For that,” she said softly, “you’ll always have my sincerest gratitude.”

With a last look at Clark, she turned and went quickly to the elevator. When the doors closed, shutting off the newsroom, she leaned against the wall, the tears falling silently down her face.

No, she thought, not here. Do your crying at home. No one needs to see your tears right now.

She wiped her eyes and pushed a button. The elevator took her to the top floor. She went slowly down the quiet, wood-paneled hallway. Adele rose slowly when she saw Kellen.

“Kellen, I just heard,” she said, her voice breaking.

“It’s all right, Adele,” Kellen said. “I’m sure there will still be a place for you here.”

“But it won’t be the same,” the woman said, beginning to cry. “I worked for your father for twenty years. And now ...”

“Everything will be all right,” Kellen said softly. She walked away quickly, not trusting her own composure. She went to her office and opened the door.

She froze. Lilith was standing there, behind Kellen’s desk, and turned. Kellen stared at Lilith and at first didn’t notice the strange man in a suit standing at the window, holding a yellow tape measure across the window.

“What are you doing here?” Kellen demanded.

Lilith smiled. “Just taking some measurements for new draperies. We’ll be finished in a moment.”

“Get out,” Kellen said.

Lilith turned to the man. “Wait for me outside, Paul. I’ll only be a minute.” He left, and Lilith turned to Kellen. “You don’t have to worry about your things, dear,” she said. “We’ll box them up for you and send them to the house.”

She picked up a plaque, one of Adam’s that Kellen had salvaged from Ian’s office. “Of course, you probably don’t want all this tacky bric-a-brac.”

“Put it down,” Kellen said.

Lilith set the plaque down. She walked slowly toward the windows, her eyes wandering over the walls and furnishings.