The Prodigal Daughter Read online

  “You two go on up,” said Kate. “I’ll join you in a few minutes with the children.”

  Florentyna took her husband’s arm and climbed the stairs, nervously fingering the antique ring. They entered the room to find William Lowell Kane sitting in the crimson leather chair by the fire. Such a fine-looking man, thought Florentyna, realizing for the first time what her husband would look like when he was old.

  “Father,” said Richard, “I would like you to meet my wife.”

  Florentyna stepped forward, to be greeted by a warm and gentle smile on William Kane’s face.

  Richard waited for his father’s response, but Florentyna knew that the old man would never speak to her now.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Abel picked up the phone by the side of his bed. “Find George for me. I need to get dressed.” Abel read the letter again. He couldn’t believe that William Kane had been his backer.

  When George arrived, Abel didn’t speak. He just handed over the letter. George read it slowly. “Oh, my God,” he said.

  “I must attend the funeral.”

  George and Abel arrived at Trinity Church in Boston a few minutes after the service had begun. They remained behind the last row of respectful mourners. Richard and Florentyna stood on each side of Kate. Three senators, five congressmen, two bishops, most of the chairmen of the leading banks and the publisher of The Wall Street Journal were all there. The chairman and every director of the Lester’s board were also present.

  “Do you think they can forgive me?” asked Abel.

  George did not reply.

  “Will you go and see them?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you, George. I hope William Kane had a friend as good as you.”

  Abel sat up in bed looking toward the door every few moments. When it eventually opened he hardly recognized the beautiful lady who had once been his “little one.” He smiled defiantly as he stared over the top of his half-moon spectacles. George remained by the door as Florentyna ran to the side of the bed and threw her arms around her father—a long hug that couldn’t make up for eleven wasted years, he told her.

  “So much to talk about,” he continued. “Chicago, Poland, politics, the stores…But first, Richard. Can he ever believe I didn’t know until yesterday that his father was my backer?”

  “Yes, Papa, because he only discovered it himself a day before you, and we are still not sure how you found out.”

  “A letter from the lawyers of the First National Bank of Chicago who had been instructed not to inform me until after his death. What a fool I’ve been,” Abel added. “Will Richard see me?” he asked, his voice sounding very frail.

  “He wants to meet you so much. He and the children are waiting downstairs.”

  “Send for them, send for them,” Abel said, his voice rising. George smiled and disappeared.

  “And do you still want to be President?” Abel asked.

  “Of the Baron Group?”

  “No, of the United States. Because if you do, I well remember my end of the bargain. If the result of the New Hampshire primary turns out to be satisfactory…”

  Florentyna smiled but made no comment.

  A few moments later there was a knock at the door. Abel tried to push himself up as Richard came into the room, followed by the children. The head of the Kane family walked forward and shook hands warmly with his father-in-law.

  “Good morning, sir,” he said. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  Abel couldn’t get any words out, so Florentyna introduced him to Annabel and his grandson.

  “And what is your name?” demanded the old man.

  “William Abel Kane.”

  Abel gripped the boy’s hand. “I am proud to have my name linked with that of your other grandfather. You will never begin to know how sad I am about your father,” he said, turning to Richard. “I never realized. So many mistakes over so many years. It didn’t cross my mind, even for a moment, that your father could have been my benefactor. God knows, I wish I could have been given one chance to thank him personally.”

  “He would have understood,” said Richard. “But there was a clause in the deed of the family trust which didn’t allow him to reveal his identity because of the potential conflict between his professional and private interests. He would never have considered making an exception to any rule. That’s why his customers trusted him with their life savings.”

  “Even if it resulted in his own death?” asked Florentyna.

  “I’ve been just as obdurate,” said Abel.

  “That’s hindsight,” said Richard. “None of us could have known that Henry Osborne would cross our paths.”

  “Your father and I met, you know, the day he died,” said Abel.

  Florentyna and Richard stared at him in disbelief.

  “Oh, yes,” said Abel. “We passed each other on Fifth Avenue—he had come to watch the opening of your new store. He raised his hat to me. It was enough, quite enough.”

  Soon they were talking of happier days; both Abel and Florentyna laughed a little and cried a lot.

  “You must forgive us, Richard,” said Abel. “The Polish are a sentimental race.”

  “I know,” he replied. “My children are half-Polish.”

  “Can you join me for dinner tonight?”

  “Of course,” said Richard.

  “Have you ever experienced a real Polish feast, my boy?”

  “Every Christmas for the past eleven years,” Richard replied.

  Abel laughed, then talked of the future and how he saw the progress of his group. “We ought to have one of your shops in every hotel,” he told Florentyna.

  She agreed.

  Abel had only one other request of Florentyna: that she and Richard would accompany him on his journey to Warsaw in nine months’ time for the opening of the latest Baron. Richard assured him both of them would be there.

  During the following months, Abel was reunited with his daughter and quickly grew to respect his son-in-law. George had been right about the boy all along. Why had he been so stubborn?

  He confided in Richard that he wanted her return to Poland to be one Florentyna would never forget. Abel had asked his daughter to open the Warsaw Baron, but she had insisted that only the president of the Group could perform such a task, although she was anxious about her father’s health.

  Every week Florentyna and her father would read together the progress report that came from Warsaw on the new hotel. As the time drew nearer for the opening, the old man even practiced his speech in front of her.

  The whole family traveled to Warsaw together. They inspected the first Western hotel to be built behind the Iron Curtain and were reassured that it was everything Abel had promised.

  The opening ceremony took place in the massive gardens in front of the hotel. The Polish Minister of Tourism made the opening speech welcoming his guests. He then called upon the president of the Baron Group to say a few words before performing the opening ceremony.

  Abel’s speech was delivered exactly as he had written it and at its conclusion the thousand guests on the lawn rose and cheered.

  The Minister of Tourism then handed a large pair of scissors to the president of the Baron Group. Florentyna cut the ribbon that ran across the entrance of the hotel and said, “I declare the Warsaw Baron open.”

  Florentyna traveled to Slonim to scatter the ashes of her father in his birthplace before returning to America. As she stood on the land where her father had been born she vowed never to forget her origins.

  Richard tried to comfort her; in the short time he had come to know his father-in-law he had recognized the many qualities he had passed on to his daughter.

  Florentyna realized that she could never come to terms with their short reconciliation. She still had so much to tell her father and even more to learn from him. She continually thanked George for the time they had been allowed to share as a family, knowing the loss was every bit as de