Adam's Daughter Part 51

Garrett came up to the table. "Sorry I'm late," he said, giving Ian a cursory handshake and Lilith a nod.

"Would you like a drink?" Ian asked.

"No, nothing."

"Mother?"

"A martini would be nice." She turned to Garrett. "It's a shame you couldn't come to dinner last week. It must be quite tiresome, all this flying back and forth to New York."

"I don't mind it," Garrett said. "I spend the week in New York then come out here on the weekends to relax."

"Yes," she said with a smile. "It must be so nice over in Tiburon. Close to the city yet so secluded, so far from the madding crowd, all by yourself."

Ian leaned back, allowing Lilith to handle the small talk, marveling at her audacity. He could see that her innuendo about Kellen had not been lost on Garrett. Ian glanced around at the nearby tables, noting the other diners eyeing him and Garrett. He wondered if anyone else suspected, as he and Lilith did, that Garrett and Kellen were having an affair. Ian looked at Garrett and felt a grudging spurt of respect for his ability to carry on with Kellen while deceiving her again about the sale.

He wondered idly if Stephen knew. Probably not, he thought. Serves him right for marrying the crazy b.i.t.c.h in the first place.

"Do try the salmon, Garrett," Lilith said.

"I won't be staying long," Garrett said.

Ian and Lilith exchanged glances. "Well," Ian said quickly. "Then perhaps we should get on with what we came here for. You've had time to consider our latest offer?"

"More than enough time," Garrett said. He folded his hands, resting them on the tablecloth.

Ian finally prompted, "And you've found it enticing..."

"I found it insulting," Garrett said.

Ian glanced quickly at Lilith.

"It's an insult to your sister," Garrett said, "and to your entire family, especially your father's memory."

Lilith nearly spilled her drink. Ian managed to keep his face impa.s.sive.

"I came here today," Garrett said, "only to tell you that I'm not interested in buying your company."

"I thought we were going to do business," Ian said, his voice low. "After all these months --"

"Once and for all," Garrett interrupted. "I'm not interested. And I'd greatly appreciate it if you didn't try to contact me about it again." He glanced at Lilith. "Frankly, your persistence is becoming a bit embarra.s.sing."

"Well, of all the nerve," Lilith said.

"Mother, let me handle this," Ian said sharply. His eyes locked with Garrett's. "Me embarra.s.sing you? That's truly amusing, Richardson, considering what you and Kellen have been up to. I thought you were smarter than this, allowing her to manipulate you."

"You're a fool," Garrett said evenly. "You've exploited your corporation for short-term personal gain, mismanaged it into impotency. You've done all you could to undercut Kellen, when you should be grateful to her for trying to salvage it."

"Now wait a minute, Richardson --"

At that moment, the waiter appeared and placed salads before Lilith and Ian.

"You were handed an empire and you pillaged it," Garrett went on, not bothering to lower his voice. "You're an incompetent fool, Bryant. Even if I wanted your company, I wouldn't do business with you. I don't deal with fools." Garrett rose. "I have a plane to catch."

He nodded to Lilith, who sat frozen, her face white. "Enjoy your lunch."

Ian and Lilith didn't move. The waiter stared at Garrett's retreating figure then turned to Lilith. "Would Madame care for some pepper?" he asked, holding out the mill.

"Go away," Lilith said through clenched teeth.

Ian sat there, eyes trained straight ahead. His face burned with humiliation. "Now what?" he muttered to Lilith.

She picked up her fork. "Eat your salad," she hissed.

Ian speared a piece of romaine but couldn't bring it up to his mouth. "That f.u.c.king limey p.r.i.c.k," he murmured.

"You know I can't stand that language," Lilith said.

"Let's get out of here," Ian said.

"No, we will stay and have our lunch." Lilith said, with a discreet look around. She took a bite of salad and rolled her eyes.

"Good Lord, can't anyone make a decent Caesar anymore? This is absolutely crawling with anchovies."

"How can you just sit there and eat after what he said to me?" Ian said. "To say nothing of the fact that we've lost our best chance to sell, for crissake."

"Pull yourself together and listen to me," she said calmly. "And eat your salad. People are staring."

With a petulant frown, Ian began to eat.

"We don't need him," Lilith said. "Perhaps there's another way. I was thinking about something Enid once told me. Must have been eight years ago. Time does fly these days. Anyway, Enid had just returned from England and had visited the Richardsons. They're close friends, you know."

Ian continued to eat morosely, his eyes sweeping the room, wondering who had heard Richardson.

"Well, it seems Arthur got to talking about San Francisco," Lilith went on, "and he told Enid he tried to buy a newspaper here but the deal fell through." She paused. "You're not listening, you're not hearing what I'm saying."

"What are you saying, Mother?"

She leveled her dark eyes at him. "That perhaps we've been courting the wrong Richardson. That perhaps we should have been talking to the father all along."

"Why would he --?"

"Enid said Arthur was very disappointed that Garrett couldn't close the deal. There's no reason to think Arthur Richardson has changed his mind, especially if the price is lower than it was eight years ago."

Ian focused on Lilith for the first time. "Do you really think --"

The waiter placed a salmon in dill sauce in front of Lilith. She took a bite. "London in October," she mused. "It's probably terribly rainy. Perhaps we can pop over to Paris when we're finished with business. I could do with a new Chanel or two. What do you think, dear?"

Ian glanced around the room, at the sea of gray business suits. The sting of Garrett's words was still fresh on his face. He forced himself to take a bite of the salmon.

"I think," he said slowly, "that if you can pull this off, Mother, I will buy you all the Chanel you want."

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE.

The hurdy-gurdy music rose on the breeze, mixing with the sound of children's laughter. Sara dashed across the playground toward the carousel. Ben let go of Kellen's hand and ran after her.

"Sara, wait for your brother!" Kellen called out. But Sara was already out of earshot, a blur of blue and dark streaming hair. By the time Kellen and Stephen caught up, she had already positioned herself on a painted horse. Ben waited patiently until Stephen hoisted him up onto a smaller one and showed him how to hang on to the bra.s.s pole.

The carousel started up, and Kellen and Stephen stood watching each time the children came around. Ben was clinging to the pole, his face reflecting his cautious excitement. Sara was standing up in the stirrups, laughing.

Kellen shaded her eyes from the bright sun. "She's going to break her neck one of these days," she said.

"She'll be fine," Stephen said.

The flat tone in his voice made Kellen turn but Stephen had already walked off to a nearby bench. He sat down, leaning his forearms on his knees, staring at the ground. Kellen went over and sat down next to him.

It was a beautiful day and Golden Gate Park was filled with people. She watched a group of men in white nearby playing a courtly game of lawn bowling, the gentle thuds of the steel b.a.l.l.s punctuating the chatter of the children in a nearby sandbox. She glanced at Stephen. All morning he had been locked in some private contemplation. He was often preoccupied about the plant these days, but today his mood had been impenetrable.

"I'm glad you could come with us today," she said.

Stephen didn't look at her. The carousel music carried over to them on the breeze.

"Kellen, we have to talk."

He hadn't moved but now his hands were clamped tightly together. She focused on his ring, glinting in the sunlight, then looked away quickly, knowing suddenly what was coming.

"I know about you and Garrett," Stephen said.

She closed her eyes. In the last few weeks, she had thought often about this very conversation, about what she would say. But she had thought about it only from her viewpoint, of how she intended to tell Stephen.

"Stephen, I --"

"No, let me talk." His voice was firm. "I've been thinking about this for a week now, trying to figure it out, trying to understand why." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I know you haven't been happy. I thought going back to work would change that. But I guess it wasn't enough."

He stared at the carousel. "When I finally realized what was going on, I blamed myself," he said. "I thought there had to be something I wasn't doing, something I wasn't giving you. But then I realized it's not me at all."

He looked at her. "It's you, Kellen. It's just the way you are. You need this...this excitement in your life."

The matter-of-fact emptiness of his eyes and voice rendered her speechless. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Stephen," she said finally, knowing how weak it sounded.

"Oh, Kellen," he said quietly. "I've spent most of my life running behind you, and I long ago stopped expecting you to turn around to see how I'm doing." He stared vacantly ahead. "You never had to. You always knew I was there right behind you. Good old reliable Stephen."

Kellen started to say something, but suddenly Sara came bounding over. "Daddy, can we go again?" she exclaimed.

Stephen pulled some change out of his pocket and handed it to her. She ran off to buy more tickets, leaving Kellen and Stephen sitting in silence.

"It sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself." Stephen said calmly. "But I'm not. Not anymore. I'm just fed up, Kellen. I won't just sit back with everyone else and watch you and Garrett make a fool of me and a mockery of our marriage."

"Stephen," Kellen said softly. "It's not as simple as that."

"Yes, it is as simple as that," He interrupted, turning to face her. "It's black and white. It's him or us. It's Garrett or your family."

Kellen looked over at the carousel. "Don't use them like this, Stephen. It's not fair."

"Fair? What the h.e.l.l is fair about any of this?" The anger had finally burst free and he looked at her accusingly. "I've been patient, Kellen, for years, hoping you'd forget him. I thought you had. But I was wrong. And obviously this is not just something you need to get out of your system." He paused, his eyes locked on hers. "So you tell me what it is. Do you love him, Kellen? Is that it?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't know."

He looked away. "You don't know," he repeated flatly. After a moment, he looked back. "Well, do you love me?" he asked angrily. "Maybe you can tell me that at least."

"Yes," she said softly, still unable to look at him.

He sat there, staring at the carousel. He ran a hand over his eyes. "What about Sara? Have you told him?"

"No."

His eyes did not leave the carousel. "In all the ways that count, I'm Sara's father," he said. "This is our family. You have to decide if you want to keep it together. "

He stood up. "Until you do, I'm moving out of the house." He looked once more toward the carousel. "Tell the kids what you want for now. I'll talk to them later."

She looked up at him. He had stuck his hands in his pockets and he was squinting in the sun, staring off at some distant point. "You take the car," he said. With a last glance at the carousel he turned, went up the path through the playground, and was gone.

Kellen sat motionless, her senses painfully acute. She could feel the sun hot on her bare neck, could hear the click of the metal b.a.l.l.s on the lawn and the rippling calliope music. She looked at the carousel and it metamorphosed into a blur of color and motion. The sun reflecting off mirrors, the lulling gait of the wooden horses and a flash of blue ribbon, going round and round and round.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX.

Kellen stood at the window, watching the storm as it moved inland. The afternoon sky was heavy with gray clouds and green foaming waves crashed on the kelp-littered beach.

"Kellen? Is something wrong?"

She turned toward Garrett, who was building a fire. They had just arrived at the house in Carmel, and their bags still stood by the door. She clasped her arms around herself and s.h.i.+vered then turned back to look out the window.

"This'll get rid of the chill in a moment," Garrett said. He came over and wrapped his arms around her. "I think we're in for a bad one," he said, looking out at the ocean.

It began to rain, first just a few huge drops pelting the gla.s.s, then a steady beat.

"Garrett, Stephen knows," Kellen said. "He's moved out of the house."