Adam's Daughter

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Adam's Daughter Page 29

by Kristy Daniels


  Stephen kept his distance. But Ian zeroed in on her pain, badgering her about losing the deal. His needling came to a head one afternoon about a month after Garrett’s departure. He burst into her office and tossed a paper down on her desk.

  “I need your signature on this,” he said.

  Kellen picked it up and began to read.

  “It’s just a fucking petty cash voucher,” he said. “Just sign it and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “This is for ten thousand dollars,” she said. “That’s not petty cash.”

  Ian shrugged. “It’ll come out of the editorial budget. It’ll never be missed.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “For crissake, Kellen. I can’t get anything done if you question every move I make. You’ve signed them before.”

  “I want to know what you need ten thousand dollars for,” she said.

  Ian snatched the form from her hand. “Forget it,” he snapped. “I’ll take care of this myself.”

  She was momentarily stunned by his burst of anger. “Ian,” she said, “I have to know what goes on around here. You have to keep me involved.”

  He stared at her for a moment and she could see something in his eyes that she had never before noticed, something she could only interpret as hatred. But it passed quickly, and he started to laugh softly. He sat down across from her and put his feet up on the edge of her desk.

  “I have to keep you involved,” he repeated. “Just listen to yourself, listen how absurd you sound. You want to run things around here, but you don’t want any of the responsibility.”

  He lit a cigarette, knowing how much she disliked the smoke in her office.

  “Let’s put this in historical perspective,” he said. “First you run off to play in Europe for five years then come back, stomp your feet and demand to get involved with the family business. But then what happens? You play around some more down in the newsroom with Stephen. And when you get bored with him, you hop over to Richardson’s bed.”

  “Get out of here,” Kellen said.

  “Not yet, little sister,” he said. “So, off you go with your new playmate. But while you’re out getting banged by the Brit, who do you think is sitting here every day running things, getting the work done, keeping Daddy’s empire in one piece?” He tapped his chest. “Me. Good old Ian.”

  He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “So don’t start telling me that I need to keep you involved. That, little sister, is not my job.”

  Kellen flushed with anger. “I’m not stupid, Ian. I may not have your years of experience but I have worked hard to learn how this corporation works.”

  “You don’t know shit!” he shot back. He jerked to his feet and jabbed the cigarette at her face, its ashes scattering across her desk. “You fucked up the best chance we had to sell! Do you have any idea how much money Richardson was ready to give us? But you were so busy fucking him you didn’t even see that he was fucking you! You’re so fucking stupid!”

  The violence of his outburst made Kellen recoil into her chair. “I told you, Ian,” she said. “I’ll never sell Daddy’s newspapers.”

  “This isn’t some goddamn memorial!” he shouted. “It’s a business! It’s worth hundreds of millions of dollars! Do you think Father cares what we do with it? He’s dead, for crissake! He’s dead!”

  He stared at her, trying to bring himself back under control. He began to shake his head, as if in disbelief. “That man...” he said, struggling to speak in a calm voice. “I can’t believe he did this to me.”

  Ian stormed out of the office. Kellen sat motionless, her heart hammering. She had seen Ian lose his temper many times but the fury of this outburst scared her.

  That night, she decided to go to the house in Carmel. She was afraid to be in the same house with Ian and she needed to get away to think. She packed her bag, planning to leave early the next morning. But she woke up feeling sick to her stomach.

  She was standing at the washbasin, splashing cool water on her face when suddenly she froze. She stared at her pallid face in the mirror.

  My God, she thought. I’m pregnant.

  She went quickly to her datebook. Her period was three weeks overdue. She called her doctor and made an appointment. Two days later, Kellen received a call from a nurse, who confirmed her suspicion. Kellen put down the phone and closed her eyes. She had suspected weeks ago that she might pregnant, and it had unleashed daydreams about a future with Garrett. But then everything changed. No future with Garrett was possible now. And the pregnancy was just a harsh reality, a reality to be dealt with somehow.

  She had a choice. Friends of hers had faced the same problem and knew the right doctors. A phone call, a quick flight to Honolulu for a clandestine appointment, and it would be over. Her life could go on as before. No one would know.

  Kellen rose slowly and went to the window of the study. She lifted the drapes and looked out on the street. An abortion... how could she bring herself to do it? The dictates of her Catholic schooling reverberated in her memory, but she knew her misgivings came from something even deeper within herself.

  No one would ever know.

  Except me. And I don’t know if I could live with it.

  She glanced at the telephone, thinking of calling Garrett. Didn’t he have a right to know? No, she decided suddenly, he had no rights at all, no say in what she did. He forfeited that when he lied to her.

  She played back in her mind the scene with Garrett. He was right about Ian. Given enough time, Ian would reduce everything to ruin. She couldn’t turn her head from that fact. Neither could she ignore the fact that she was no closer to solving the corporation’s problems than she had been that day when she confronted Ian. What had she done to change anything?

  Nothing. She had spent too much time playing in the newsroom, chasing a childhood dream while the real work went undone. She had spent her time with Garrett, finding in him an escape from the problems she didn’t want to face.

  Publisher, she thought. After two years, I have no more right to the title than Ian does.

  She sat down in the leather chair. The violent scene with Ian flashed into her mind. He was dangerous, possibly to her and most certainly to the newspaper. The newspapers needed real leadership. If she was going to assert her power over Ian, it had to be now. And it had to be a complete commitment.

  But a child...wasn’t that a complete commitment, too?

  Her eyes fell on the framed photograph on the desk of her mother and father. A wave of discouragement washed over her. She had made a promise to her father that somehow had to be kept.

  “I can’t do both,” she whispered.

  She would have the abortion. The decision made, she sank back in the chair.

  She shut her eyes. Strange little singsong fragments ran through her mind, phrases which she finally recalled as prayers taught to her by the nuns in the boarding school. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for our sins now and at the hour of our death...

  She knew she was wavering. She needed to talk to someone, to hear she was doing the right thing, and there was only one person she could really count on. She picked up the phone and dialed quickly before she lost her nerve.

  “Stephen?”

  “Kellen?”

  “I...Stephen, could you come over?”

  “What is it? You sound strange. Is something wrong?”

  “I have to talk to you, Stephen. It’s important.”

  There was a pause. “I’ll be right there.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Stephen was seated on the sofa next to her. It took her a long time to meet his eyes.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said.

  He stared at her, stunned. He got up and walked slowly away from her, running a hand over his face.

  “I’ve decided to have an abortion,” she said.

  He spun around. “What? For God’s sake, Kellen, you can’t do that. What’s the matter with you?”

  His reaction surprised her. She had called him seeking
comfort not condemnation. “Nothing’s the matter with me,” she said. “I thought about this and I made a choice.”

  “Obviously, you didn’t give it much thought.”

  “Stephen, don’t do this. Don’t treat me like you did when we were kids.”

  He paced in agitation. “You can have the baby and put it up for adoption.”

  “No!” She shut her eyes, thinking of Garrett, knowing that if she ever saw his child she’d want to keep it. “This is the only way, Stephen. I can’t have this baby. I have too many other things I have to take care of first. There’s Tyler and the newspapers.”

  He stopped and turned to her. “Kellen, I know you. You couldn’t go through with an abortion. It’s not right.”

  She was close to tears. “I can. And I will.”

  Stephen shook his head. “So you’ve decided. Then why in the hell did you ask me to come over here?”

  “I thought you’d help me! I thought —-” she began to cry. “I thought you’d be here for me when I needed you.”

  He hesitated then went over to the sofa and sat down. “You really intend to go through with it,” he asked.

  “There’s no other choice.”

  “What about Garrett?”

  “That’s over,” she said. “You were right about him, Stephen. He just wanted the newspapers.”

  She expected him to say something but he was silent. When she looked up at him she saw no sense of vindication in her eyes. There was just love. He took her hands in his.

  “Kellen,” he said, “you’ve got another choice. You could have the baby. And you could marry me.”

  She looked at him in stunned silence.

  “I’ll take care of you. And the baby,” he said. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “But why would you do it?”

  “Because I love you,” he said.

  Her eyes dropped to their interlocked hands.

  “We belong together.” Stephen paused. “I know that you...care for me. That’s enough for now.”

  She tried to pull away but he gathered her into his arms.

  “You’ve always trusted me, and you can now,” he whispered. “Just give it a chance.”

  She leaned against him, listening to his voice. His words and arms enfolded her. He tilted her face up so she was forced to look at him.

  “Kellen Elizabeth Bryant, will you marry me?” he asked softly.

  She hesitated, and then the one word emerged in a sigh. “Yes,” she said.

  PART FOUR

  STEPHEN 1972

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Stephen settled into a chair by the fireplace and unfolded the newspaper. Suddenly, a small face appeared, poking under the pages.

  “Daddy! You’re home!” A pair of huge blue eyes stared up at him hopefully.

  Stephen relented. “All right, come on up,” he said, pulling the child onto his lap. “Now, how do you expect me to read?” he said with a smile.

  “I’ll help you,” the girl said, and proceeded to call out the letters in the headlines. After a while, she tired of the game and leaned back contentedly against Stephen’s chest.

  Stephen tried to shift her over slightly so he could finish his reading. He noted the weight of her on his lap and realized that she was growing so fast. She was nearly seven, not a baby anymore.

  “You know, you’re almost too big for this, princess,” he said.

  She looked up at him. “Do you want me to get down?”

  “No, you can stay.” He was about to bring the newspaper back up again when Kellen came into the room.

  “Stephen, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said. She went to him, kissing him lightly. Her red hair was held back by a scarf and she was wearing camel slacks and a flattering sweater. She was, he thought suddenly, more beautiful than the day they had gotten married.

  “You look pretty tonight,” he said.

  Kellen gave him a pleased little smile. “I’m getting fat. But thank you anyway.” She reached over to smooth the girl’s hair.

  “Sara, why don’t you let your father be? He just got home, and he’s tired. Go help your brother pick up the toys, okay?” When the girl pouted Kellen added, “You can spend all day tomorrow with Daddy when we go to the zoo.”

  Sara brightened, slid off Stephen’s lap, and went over to the Christmas tree, where a little boy was playing.

  “I can’t go tomorrow,” Stephen said quietly.

  “Stephen, you promised her —-”

  “I know, but something’s come up at the paper. I have to go in to work.”

  “You’ve been working every weekend for weeks,” she said. “You’ve got to take some time off. For them, if nothing else.”

  Stephen didn’t answer and went back to reading the paper. Kellen sighed and turned toward the children. “Well, I’ve got to get them in bed and get ready,” she said.

  Stephen looked up. “Where are you going?”

  “To the office. I forgot to bring that new circulation report home, and I want to go over it before the meeting Monday.”

  Stephen put the paper down. “You don’t need to go all the way downtown just for that. I’ll have someone send it over tomorrow.” He paused. “Besides, I read it earlier. It’s not that important.”

  “Stephen, I’m not going to the meeting half-prepared.”

  “Maybe you should skip the meeting this week, Kellen,” he said. “Ben’s still running a fever. I can fill you in on what goes on.”

  She looked at him oddly. “I’m going to the meeting,” she said. “And I’m going now to the office. Besides, I need to get out of the house for a little while. I’ve been cooped up here all week.”

  “It’s very cold out,” Stephen said.

  “The fresh air will do me good.”

  Stephen stared at her for a moment.

  “You look tired,” she said. “I’ll get the children to bed before I leave so they won’t bother you.”

  Stephen raised the paper again without comment. Kellen went over to the children to help them gather up their toys. Stephen dropped the paper slightly and watched the three of them.

  Kellen’s face had set into that implacable mask that he knew signaled her stubbornness or her displeasure with him. He hated it when this happened, this arguing without really arguing. They had never really had an overt fight during their seven-year marriage. But lately, for some reason, it seemed that even their most innocent exchanges were tinged with tension.

  He shouldn’t have said anything about her going to the office. She had, after all, been at home all week with the children, nursing their colds.

  He watched the children. Ben was going into his usual noisy bedtime denial, but Kellen finally just scooped him up and carted him off toward the stairs. Sara followed calmly.

  Stephen felt a stab of guilt. Sara was going to be so disappointed when she found out about the zoo. He had been promising for weeks to take her, but lately it was all he could do to get home from work before they went to bed. At five, Ben didn’t yet seem to notice Stephen’s absence, but Sara increasingly, did.

  Stephen let the newspaper fall and stared into the fire, letting his thoughts drift back to the days surrounding Sara’s birth.

  It had been a difficult time, more so than he had anticipated. He had always thought of himself as having a generous spirit and he had really believed he could accept the child. But that first day, when he saw the infant in the nursery, all his jealousy toward Garrett Richardson resurfaced.

  Sara had been premature, just enough to pass as Stephen’s child. But she looked like neither Stephen nor Kellen. Sara Lindsay Hillman had black hair and blue eyes, distinctly dark blue, just like Garrett’s.

  A few people commented that her coloring was a throwback to her grandfather Adam, but those who remembered Garrett suspected the truth.

  Stephen steeled himself against Sara’s appearance, wondering if he would think of Garrett every time he looked at her. Kellen said nothing about it, but he sus
pected from the way she looked at the baby that she thought the same.

  Finally, she had said, almost apologetically, “It would be easier if she looked like me instead, wouldn’t it.”

  Perhaps, he thought, but he was determined to be honorable. It was the bargain he had made to marry Kellen.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he had answered. “She’s our daughter.”

  Nothing had been easy during that first year. The suddenness of their marriage and Sara’s premature birth had shocked everyone. To make matters worse, it was an intermarriage, a fact that Stephen, so stubbornly honor-bound to rescue Kellen, had chosen to disregard. Even Josh and Anna had misgivings. They loved Kellen and were sympathetic about her pregnancy. But they had always envisioned a certain life for their only son, a happy life lived within the dictates of their faith and culture.

  It had been hardest on his mother, who was active in her temple. Some of her friends had even gone so far as to express pity over her son’s choice of a Catholic wife.

  And there were those, of course, who clucked over the idea of a Catholic marrying a Jew, and not even a rich one at that. But then, she was Adam Bryant’s daughter, went conventional wisdom, what could one expect?

  Except for the one comment about Sara’s appearance, Kellen never mentioned Garrett. Finally, Stephen heard that he was living in New York. He had bought a moribund New York City newspaper, The Tattler, and had converted it into a sensationalist tabloid. Garrett commuted between New York, Toronto and London, never returning to San Francisco.

  But he had not sold the house in Tiburon, and Stephen thought often about what would happen if he came back.

  Sometimes at night, when he lay next to Kellen in bed, Stephen imagined that she still carried within her some small sad longing. He would gather her into his arms and she would curve her body against his and tell him that she loved him. But his doubts remained.

  Then, two years after Sara’s birth, Kellen announced she was pregnant. Stephen was overjoyed, and the fact that the baby turned out to be a boy only intensified his happiness. The birth also seemed atonement to Anna and Josh; they had accepted Sara, for Stephen’s sake, but now they had a grandson.

 

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