Heiress. Irene Brand
“I’ll go with you,” he said quietly. “After being gone this week, I can’t be away from work long, but I’ll arrange for a couple of days, as you will have to do, and we’ll take a plane for Columbus. I believe you’ve made the right decision.”
The following Sunday, Allison and Charles waited at O’Hare Airport for a plane to Columbus. Sleet pelted the large windows in the waiting area as Allison tried to be patient. The plane was already an hour late, which meant that their arrival in Columbus would be well after dark. It was a good thing they had allowed two days for the trip instead of only one. Their appointment with the lawyer, Thomas Curnutt, was scheduled for nine o’clock tomorrow morning, with a flight back to Chicago in midafternoon. Allison was eager for the meeting, but she knew she couldn’t hurry the plane, so she took a book from her purse and started to read. In a short time, passengers from the incoming jet came through the walkway, and soon the call was given for loading. It was obvious that the airport authorities were moving the planes as fast as safety rules permitted to avoid a big buildup if the airport had to be closed because of the weather.
Their plane arrived in Columbus two hours late, but since no one was meeting them, it didn’t matter. Heavy clouds had hidden the ground all the way across Indiana and Ohio, but as they approached Columbus, the plane reached a lower altitude and Allison saw the wide fertile fields of western Ohio give way to a metropolis spread around the banks of the Scioto and Olentangy Rivers, and as they neared the airport, she was amazed at the cluster of tall buildings in the downtown section. The city wasn’t as large as Chicago, but it displayed an interesting skyline, and Allison looked eagerly at this capital city that might soon become her home.
Intermittent rain was falling when the plane landed, and since they hadn’t checked any luggage, Charles motioned Allison toward the lower level of the terminal, where ground transportation was available. Her father arranged for a van to take them to a downtown hotel, and it was almost seven o’clock when they registered and took the elevator to adjoining rooms on the third floor.
“Will a half hour give you time to freshen up for dinner?” Charles asked, and when Allison nodded, he said, “Come into my room when you’re ready.”
Allison was ready in fifteen minutes, as was Charles, and as they waited for the elevator to take them to the restaurant, Allison said, “I’m not hungry.”
Charles gave her a hug. “I know that, but you’re going to eat anyway. Stop being nervous—this is going to work out fine.”
Tears welled in Allison’s eyes. “I hope so, but I’m scared.”
“I know that, too,” he said as he gently squeezed her shoulder.
Charles, who always had a healthy appetite, ordered a full meal, and when Allison asked for a salad only, Charles said to the waiter, “Add a bowl of vegetable soup and some crackers to her order. Also, we’ll have pie for dessert.”
He reached across the table and took Allison’s hand. “Listen to me, Allison. Harrison should not have loaded all this on you without telling you first, but that was his way. The man was self-centered, and while he seems to have had an excellent head for business, he didn’t know much about dealing with his family.”
“Why didn’t he ever come to see us?”
Charles shrugged and leaned back so the waitress could arrange their beverages and salads. He took Allison’s hand again as he said a prayer of thanks for their food.
“You know very well that I’ll miss you if you leave Chicago, but I honestly feel that your future lies here in Columbus.”
“I’ve been very unhappy for two years. I couldn’t live at the house anymore and see Donald bringing his wife home to visit. It helped to go into the apartment, but it will probably be better if I leave Chicago.”
Sternly, Charles said, “It’s time for you to stop this yearning for Donald. You would have had a miserable life married to a man who was in love with another woman.”
“I decided last week while you were gone that I was going to bury the past.”
“That’s good. When Donald refused to marry you, he was simply living by the Golden Rule, the way I’ve taught you children to live, and it’s time for you to forget him and go on with your life. Frankly, I question you ever had a deep love for Donald—he was just a habit in your life. You two were friends and little more, I think. He was your first boyfriend, Allison, but I don’t think you and Donald shared the strong feelings necessary for a good marriage.”
Allison stared at her father as if he didn’t know what he was talking about, but perhaps he was right. He hadn’t steered her wrong yet.
The next morning Charles ordered a taxi to take them to Curnutt’s office on South High Street.
“And they call Chicago the windy city,” Allison said to Charles as she noticed the effect of the strong wind sweeping across High Street where it intersected with Broad. People could hardly stand against its power. Stoplights and shop signs risked being blown from their moorings. Pigeons with ruffled feathers, strutting along the street looking for crumbs, staggered drunkenly from the force of the blasts, and passengers waiting at the bus stops were sprayed with liquid as foam coffee cups were torn from their hands.
“It’s a nice city, though,” Charles observed. “Smaller than Chicago, but enough like it that you wouldn’t notice a great deal of difference.”
Before they reached the stone statehouse in Capitol Square, they observed the sprawling Nationwide Insurance Plaza and passed under the connecting mall bridge between Lazarus and Jacobson’s, the city’s two large department stores. The stately city hall building was on their right as the taxi dodged in and out of traffic on busy High Street.
The attorney’s office was in a two-story brick building, which had been a dwelling at one time. Charles paid the taxi fare, took Allison’s arm, steered her along the sidewalk and up the two steps to the front door. She sighed deeply.
“You’re prettier when you smile,” Charles said jokingly, and Allison forced her features to relax. She couldn’t smile, but she did look pleasant as she inspected her image in the glass panel of the walnut door. A sign on the door said Open. Come in.
There was no turning back now. A blast of heat hit their faces, and it felt good after the chill morning air. They were in a narrow, heavily carpeted foyer with a circular stairway leading upward. The door to the left was marked Receptionist, and a woman well past her youth greeted them with a pleasant, “Good morning.” She was dressed in a black suit, and her elegance blended with the lavish office, which must have contained every modern office machine on the market. Thomas Curnutt obviously wasn’t a struggling young lawyer.
“I’m Charles Sayre, and this is my daughter Allison. We have an appointment with Mr. Curnutt.”
“Won’t you be seated for a few minutes? I’m Mary Curnutt, and my husband was delayed with a client at the hospital this morning, but he telephoned just a few moments ago that he would be here soon.”
Another delay, Allison thought with a sigh. If the Lord was trying to teach her patience, she was in the right classroom. Although it had been only eight days since she’d learned of her inheritance, the wait had seemed endless.
Alert to her moods, Charles muttered, “You’ve waited this long—five minutes more won’t make much difference.”
She flashed him a smile. How many times in her life had this best of all fathers jollied her out of the dismals?
The phone rang, and under cover of the secretary’s conversation, Charles said, “I can’t understand you. You’ve suddenly become a millionaire. That’s supposed to make you happy. You were excited at first. What’s happened?”
“I’m disturbed about Mother’s reaction. If she wanted me to have the money, I’d be dancing around light as a feather. I can’t be happy if I make others unhappy.”
Charles waved