should go and do likewise, rather than stay in Claiborne mooching off your parents until you come into your inheritance.”
“I don’t have to go to college to find myself. All I have to do is put my right hand on my left elbow, and my left hand on my right elbow,” Aly demonstrated, “and I have found myself. And starting tomorrow morning I won’t have to mooch off you and Mom anymore, Dad. I’ve got a job. I’ll pay you rent for my room.”
Lorne drew back in sharp surprise. “A job? Where?”
“At Green Meadows.”
Perplexity gave way to gradual comprehension, clearing Lorne’s expression. “So that’s how you got Sampson a stall. I heard at Willard’s this noon that Benjy Carter got canned because of another DWI charge. You got his job, didn’t you? But why would Matt hire you?”
Aly changed the subject. “Have you had the paperwork for the loan drawn up? Is that it on your desk?” She snatched it up before he could grab it. Opening the folder, Aly read the contents and said, “Very good. Give me a pen and I’ll sign.”
“You’re making a mistake doing this, Aly,” Lorne pronounced heavily as she signed her name.
“Doing what?” she asked. “Borrowing against my inheritance or not going to college.”
“Both.”
“Well now, Dad,” Aly returned the pen to its holder, “the first mistake I could avoid if you denied me the loan of my money. As trustee, you can do that. But that move would cost the bank several million dollars once I turned twenty-four. A sacrifice that, as president, you’re not willing to make to save me from myself. So you can imagine what I think of your concern on that point. And as for going to college, I’m not at all sure that you and Mom want me to go for my benefit or for the sake of family appearances.”
“There has never been a Kingston who did not go to college.”
“Well, Dad, I am not a typical Kingston.” Aly picked up the check and left her father sitting at his desk, his face set in grim acceptance of that fact. After a moment of staring at the closed door, he lifted the phone.
Aly left the bank, aching from the emptiness that always followed a bitter session with her father. It was true what she had said. She entertained no illusions about her place in the family. She knew that she was the child who never should have been. Before her birth, the family was complete. Her parents had the only children they wanted, a son and daughter who were perfect replicas of themselves.
“They say,” her mother had said to the rest of the family peering down at the infant in its bassinet—or so Annie Jo had related years later—“that if a baby is ugly at birth, it grows up to be beautiful. Let’s hope so.”
But she had not grown up to be beautiful nor even to own a redeemable temperament. Furthermore, her concept of the family’s position in Claiborne differed considerably from that of the other Kingstons.
“Alyson, you are absolutely not to play with Wade Conners, you understand? We have certain standards to maintain in Claiborne, and Wade Conners doesn’t meet them. He is totally unsuitable company for the daughter of a bank president. You are not to invite him to this house ever again.”
“But why not, Mother? He’s funny and he makes me laugh.”
“He’s unclean and he smells bad. You could catch something from him.”
“His mother is dead and his father is a drunk. He takes care of himself the best way he can.”
“Really, Alyson,” Victoria chimed in, “why do you play with such creatures!”
“Because they like me the way I am.”
In grade school she built a playhouse next to the fence in the alley, and from there, fed all the stray dogs and cats that came to her door. It was there she entertained the Wade Connerses of her acquaintance, sneaking them in through the back door of her family’s grand home when a bathroom was required. After a while she came to be called Aly, a nickname appropriate to her nonfamily connections
“I don’t have to go to college to find myself. All I have to do is put my right hand on my left elbow, and my left hand on my right elbow,” Aly demonstrated, “and I have found myself. And starting tomorrow morning I won’t have to mooch off you and Mom anymore, Dad. I’ve got a job. I’ll pay you rent for my room.”
Lorne drew back in sharp surprise. “A job? Where?”
“At Green Meadows.”
Perplexity gave way to gradual comprehension, clearing Lorne’s expression. “So that’s how you got Sampson a stall. I heard at Willard’s this noon that Benjy Carter got canned because of another DWI charge. You got his job, didn’t you? But why would Matt hire you?”
Aly changed the subject. “Have you had the paperwork for the loan drawn up? Is that it on your desk?” She snatched it up before he could grab it. Opening the folder, Aly read the contents and said, “Very good. Give me a pen and I’ll sign.”
“You’re making a mistake doing this, Aly,” Lorne pronounced heavily as she signed her name.
“Doing what?” she asked. “Borrowing against my inheritance or not going to college.”
“Both.”
“Well now, Dad,” Aly returned the pen to its holder, “the first mistake I could avoid if you denied me the loan of my money. As trustee, you can do that. But that move would cost the bank several million dollars once I turned twenty-four. A sacrifice that, as president, you’re not willing to make to save me from myself. So you can imagine what I think of your concern on that point. And as for going to college, I’m not at all sure that you and Mom want me to go for my benefit or for the sake of family appearances.”
“There has never been a Kingston who did not go to college.”
“Well, Dad, I am not a typical Kingston.” Aly picked up the check and left her father sitting at his desk, his face set in grim acceptance of that fact. After a moment of staring at the closed door, he lifted the phone.
Aly left the bank, aching from the emptiness that always followed a bitter session with her father. It was true what she had said. She entertained no illusions about her place in the family. She knew that she was the child who never should have been. Before her birth, the family was complete. Her parents had the only children they wanted, a son and daughter who were perfect replicas of themselves.
“They say,” her mother had said to the rest of the family peering down at the infant in its bassinet—or so Annie Jo had related years later—“that if a baby is ugly at birth, it grows up to be beautiful. Let’s hope so.”
But she had not grown up to be beautiful nor even to own a redeemable temperament. Furthermore, her concept of the family’s position in Claiborne differed considerably from that of the other Kingstons.
“Alyson, you are absolutely not to play with Wade Conners, you understand? We have certain standards to maintain in Claiborne, and Wade Conners doesn’t meet them. He is totally unsuitable company for the daughter of a bank president. You are not to invite him to this house ever again.”
“But why not, Mother? He’s funny and he makes me laugh.”
“He’s unclean and he smells bad. You could catch something from him.”
“His mother is dead and his father is a drunk. He takes care of himself the best way he can.”
“Really, Alyson,” Victoria chimed in, “why do you play with such creatures!”
“Because they like me the way I am.”
In grade school she built a playhouse next to the fence in the alley, and from there, fed all the stray dogs and cats that came to her door. It was there she entertained the Wade Connerses of her acquaintance, sneaking them in through the back door of her family’s grand home when a bathroom was required. After a while she came to be called Aly, a nickname appropriate to her nonfamily connections
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