Adam's Daughter Read Free Page B

he was alive, so he gets in the last word now.” He glared at Josh. “This is crazy. He was crazy. This family’s filled with crazy —-”
    “Shut up, Ian!”
    Everyone turned toward Kellen. Her face was red with anger. “Don’t say that,” she said. “I told you a long time ago, don’t ever say that.”
    “It’s the truth,” Ian said. “You know it is.”
    “That’s enough,” Josh said sharply.
    “No, it’s not,” Ian said. “I’m not going to put up with this.” He pointed at Tyler. “If you think I’m ever going to let this snot-nosed little shit have any say in the newspaper then you’re crazy, too, Josh.”
    Tyler began to cry.
    “And as for my little sister,” Ian went on, “You’re all so ready to welcome her home with open arms. Well, I’ll be damned if I will . What does she know about newspapers? Where was she when Father needed her? I’ll tell you. While he was lying up there wasting away, the beloved prodigal daughter here was fucking her way across France —-”
    “Stop!” Josh shouted. Everyone froze out of sheer shock at hearing Josh raise his voice. He rose and stared at Ian. “I won’t let you make this something dirty, Ian,” Josh said, straining to keep his voice even. “And I won’t stand back and see you three tear each another apart and what your father worked his entire life to build.”
    Ian stared at him for a moment. “Forgive me, Josh,” he said , “but you really have nothing to say about this. This is none of your damn business. You are not family.”
    Ian turned to Kellen and Tyler. The boy was whimpering. Kellen was ashen.
    “I’m the only one who can run the newspaper,” Ian said. "And I’m the only one who will.” He stalked out of the room.
    Josh gathered up his briefcase and a small box. He went to Tyler and bent down before him. He handed the boy his handkerchief. Tyler took it and wiped his eyes. “It will be all right, Tyler,” Josh said.
    “He hated me,” Tyler said quietly.
    “Your father loved you, Tyler.”
    Tyler’s pale blue eyes looked up at Josh. “He hated me because I was his bastard. A will doesn’t change that.” He began to cry again. “I’m alone. I’m all alone.”
    He got up off the sofa and ran out of the room. Kellen rose quickly to go after him but Josh grabbed her arm.
    “ Let him go for now, Kellen,” he said. He handed Kellen the box he had been holding. “Adam wanted you to have these,” he said. He looked at her for a long moment. “Think about what I told you,” he said, “about the newspaper.”
    He left her alone in the study, holding the box. It was an old cigar box, its paper edges worn, its color s faded.
    Inside were photographs, yellowed and tattered with age. She sifted slowly through them. They were mostly of her mother, in a variety of poses and dress. From the bottom, she pulled out a small creased photo. It was of a very young man on a dock. His expression was serious, but despite the slight shabbiness of his tweed suit he looked dashing. She turned it over and read the feminine script: “Adam, Berkeley Pier, 1925.”
    As she was slipping the photograph back in the box, she noticed an envelope. Inside was a key and the number of a safe-deposit box in Adam’s bank. She would worry later about what was in it. She put the box in a drawer of the desk and stood there, her eyes taking in study.
    The stunning contents of the will had still not completely registered. She felt a vague sadness that her dream of being involved in the family business had come only through her father’s death. All those times she had begged to be included and he had insisted that his daughter had no place in the newspaper. Now, she had what she had always wanted but had no idea what she was going to do with it.
    She ran her hands over the worn leather of her father’s chair, her throat constricting. Finally, she left the study.
    In the foyer she paused, staring at the pattern in the marble floor. She felt a