Adam's Daughter (7 page)

He had gone back to his room, bathed and waited. It was Sunday, his day off, and he had nothing to do. So he lay on his bed, thinking about Elizabeth...beautiful, rich Elizabeth.

He drew in a breath went up to the porch and rang the bell.

When the
maid answered he said he had come to see Miss Ingram. He was told to wait in the foyer. He was staring up at the chandelier when Elizabeth appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Adam!
I knew you’d come!”

She came down the stairs.
She was wearing a simple blue dress sashed low on the hips, and her hair was loose, pulled back from her face. “Come into the library,” she said.

She closed the doors behind them. Adam stood in the middle of the room, his eyes traveling over the paintings, soft Persian rugs, and shelves of books. Elizabeth took his hat. “
You’re soaked,” she said. “Come sit by the fire,”

As he sat down next to her on the sofa, Adam
felt suddenly awkward. Why had it been so easy to talk to her last night and now?

“I had a wonderful time last night,”
Elizabeth said. “I barely got a wink of sleep. I must look a fright.”

“You look beautiful,” Adam
said.

“My mother was furious. She wanted to know what the gray smudges were on my dress.” She smiled
. “I told her I spent the night on a park bench wrapped in newspapers.”

There was another pause
and Elizabeth grew serious. “When I woke up this morning I felt like I had dreamed the whole thing. You’re different than the silly boys I’ve met, the other men —-”

“Not really,” Adam said.

“But you are.” She rose suddenly. “You have dreams, things you want to do. You’re not just sitting in college with your nose in a book or lolling about on a boat. The way you talked about your newspapers. It was so exciting.”

She
faced him. “I envy your passion,” she said softly.

He was taken aback. Never would he have used that word
about himself.

“
I envy men,” Elizabeth said. “Their freedom to do things, to build, to achieve.” She came back and sat near Adam. “I wish I could help you build your empire.”

Before Adam could reply,
the doors opened and Charles Ingram was standing there.

“Father,”
Elizabeth said, “you remember Mr. Bryant, from the party last night?”

Charles Ingram came into the room. Adam got to his feet and extended his hand. Ingram gave it a perfunctory shake and uttered a small greeting. There was a long silence as Ingram eyed Adam and Elizabeth. “Would you mind giving us a few moments alone, Elizabeth?” he said.

Elizabeth looked at Adam but didn’t move.

“Elizabeth, do as I say,” Ingram said softly but evenly.

With a final look at Adam, she turned and left the room quickly.

Ingram turned to Adam.
“Are you responsible for keeping my daughter out all night?” Ingram asked.

“I was with her, yes,” Adam
said.

Ingram’s gaze was icy. “How old are you, sir?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“Then you surely should know better.” Ingram paused. “You know, I could have charges brought against you for corrupting a minor.”

“Sir, Elizabeth seems old enough to —-”

“Mind your words, young man.”

“I was only going to say that she seems old enough to think for herself, make sound choices.”

“
And you, Mr. Bryant, are one of her sound choices?”

Adam said nothing.

“I think not,” Ingram said. “I’ll try not to insult you, Mr. Bryant. As I told you last night, I’ve seen a variety of men trying to get near my daughter. And they all want only one thing.”

“You know nothing about me,” Adam said.

“I haven’t gotten where I am by not being a good judge of character, Mr. Bryant. I’ve found if you want to know a man, all you need to know is what he wants. I know that you work for a newspaper so I can guess you make perhaps two thousand dollars per year.” His eyes swept over Adam’s damp suit. “Can you look me in the eye, Mr. Bryant, and tell me you aren’t interested in my daughter’s money?”

Adam stared at him.

“You may very well be a man of character,” Ingram said. “But I can’t take a chance. I have a fortune to protect, a daughter to protect. You have nothing to offer a girl like Elizabeth.” He paused. “She’s very impressionable, given to romantic whims. I must therefore count on you to behave as a gentleman and make no further attempts to see her.”

I
nside, Adam was raging with anger, but he kept his composure. “I won’t be brushed off like this,” he said.

Ingram sighed and
went to his desk. He pulled out a leather book and flipped it open. “How much will it take, Mr. Bryant?” he said, picking up a pen.

Adam’s face began to bu
rn with humiliation. “I don’t want your money,” he said.

Ingram gave him a final look then closed the checkbook. “In that case, we have nothing else to say.” He push
ed a table buzzer. The maid appeared at the door. “Charlotte, would you show Mr. Bryant out, please?”

Adam paused then picked up his hat. Without looking at Ingram he went swiftly out into the foyer
. The heavy front door closed behind him with a soft finality. Adam stood on the porch for a moment, his face still burning. He put on his hat, turned up the collar of his coat, and stepped out into the street. He paused for a moment to look up at the upstairs windows of the mansion then started back down the hill in the light rain.

CHAPTER
SIX

For the next two weeks, Adam tried to get through to Elizabeth with no success. His phone calls to the house were intercepted, his letters returned unopened. When he went to the mansion he was turned away by servants. Finally, he learned that the Ingrams had returned to Atlanta.

He thought of Elizabeth constantly, his attraction to her inseparable from the embarrassment and anger he felt
over her father’s words. He knew he had to forget her but he grew obsessed with seeing her one more time. 

He asked for some time off from work and went to Atlanta. He located the Ingram home, a red brick fortress in the countryside surrounded by an iron fence. Again, he tried to call Elizabeth but was rebuffed by Ingram. He resorted to staying outside the gate, waiting for Elizabeth to leave. Finally, the police
arrived and told him that Ingram would have him arrested unless Adam agreed to leave Atlanta.

Adam returned to San Francisco, mentally and physically exhausted.
In the city room, he sat slumped at his desk, drawing the stares of the other men. A secretary told him that he was to report to Bickford’s office. Adam pulled himself out of the chair and took the elevator upstairs.

Bickford looked up from his paper
. “Have a seat, Adam,” he said.

Adam sat down, straightening his tie. He had not changed his clothes after he had gotten off the train that mo
rning.

“I got a phone call from Atlanta this mo
rning,” Bickford said, “from a Mr. Charles Ingram.”

Adam closed his eyes.

Bickford’s face reddened slightly. “I had a hard time believing what he told me, Adam. The man told me you were harassing his sixteen-year-old daughter.”

Adam looked at him. “I
went to Atlanta to --”

Bickford
held up a hand. “Look, Adam. I can’t tell you how to run your life. But when it starts affecting your work, well, that’s something else.” He paused. “You’ve been acting odd for a couple of weeks now. Does this girl have anything to do with it?”

“My work comes first with me, Bick. You know that.”

“Yeah, well...maybe.” Bickford’s look was softening. “You know that promotion is yours, if you want it, Adam. But when you move up into management you must watch your conduct. I don’t like my top men’s names showing up on police blotters.” He paused. “Lilith doesn’t know about this and I won’t tell her.”

Adam stared at Bickford, almost dwarfed by the large mahogany desk.

Bickford leaned back in his chair, apparently content his chastising of Adam was over. “This Ingram fellow, you should have heard him,” he said. “After he called, I had the morgue check him out. Big name in the South, I guess. One of those moldy old families that’s been hanging around since before the Civil War.”

Adam remained silent.

“I can understand you wanting to sow some wild oats before you settle down,” Bickford said. “But what in the world were you doing chasing his daughter?”

“It was just one night, Bick,” Adam said absently.

Bickford’s mouth compressed into a grim line. “A man should never try to play above himself, son. If you reach too high, you set yourself up for a fall. Just be cautious, work hard, make a good marriage, that’s how you get ahead.”

Adam didn’t look up.

“You have a great future here, Adam,” Bickford said. “This promotion is just the first step. You’re young. You’ve got so much ahead of you. But me...I’m not so young.”

There was a different tone in Bickford’s voice that made Adam look up.

“I always wanted a son,” Bickford said, “someone to carry on after me. What do daughters bring you? Just heartaches. I love Lilith but she certainly couldn’t run this newspaper after me. ” He paused again. “But you could. I’ve known that from the first day I met you. Your future is here, Adam, with the
Times
. If you want it.”

“I know, Bick. And I do want it.”

The secretary knocked and leaned in to announce that Bickford had someone waiting outside. Adam got up to leave.

“You look terrible,” Bickford said. “Take the rest of the day off. You can start fresh tomorrow
, as city editor.”

Adam hid his surprise. “Thanks, Bick,” he said finally. “You won’t regret it. I’ll work hard.”

“I know you will,” Bickford said.

Down in the lobby
Adam pick up a copy of that afternoon’s
Times.
Outside, he paused. It was a chilly but sunny day, and Union Square was filled with people —- shoppers taking advantage of the post-Christmas sales, men filing in and out of the office buildings. He stood there, not knowing where he wanted to go. He didn’t want to go back to the boarding house, and he felt no compulsion to linger over a drink in some speakeasy.

He folded the
Times
under his arm and set off to catch a trolley. He rode it down across town to the marina and then walked over to the Palace of Fine Arts. He found a bench near the duck pond and sat down, watching the children play under the watchful gazes of mothers and nannies. He glanced down to the
Times
in his lap.

He unfolded it and idly scanned the headlines and then noticed the date. December 31, 1926. He hadn’t even realized it was New Year’s Eve.

Tomorrow, he would go into the office and begin his new job as city editor. A new year would begin. His future would begin. He folded the paper and set it aside, fighting the urge to look up at the statues.