“What do you mean you did this for my own good,” Bette asked, raising her voice.

“Don’t you speak to me in that tone, I am your father,” he shouted and got up and poured himself a glass of scotch.

“My father,” she spat, “you are no father of mine. How could you do this to me? Lie to me about something, someone so precious?”

“Precious? An illegitimate child is not precious. He was an abomination and a disgrace to this family. What was I supposed to say to my colleagues? That my bright and beautiful Elizabeth is a damn whore? Jesus Elizabeth, at least Katherine had the sense to get married before her son was born.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Kit asked, obviously offended.

“Katherine, do I honestly have to answer that question,” Melvin retorted in a rude manner, to which Kit’s reaction went from anger to rage.

“Now see here Melvin, I had my son and I may not have been the best mother but he was raised right. He even followed in your footsteps and became a lawyer,” she said and was cut off.

“Don’t you ever refer to me as Melvin; I am your father God damnit!”

“No, no father of mine would speak so harshly of their own daughters,” Kit replied.

“You are not my father, I have no father anymore,” Bette said in a low voice, the tears building in her eyes, “No father of mine would do something so horrible as to forge his daughter’s signature and give her child up for adoption and then lie and say he died. How could you? How did you live with yourself for the last twenty one years?”

“I did it for, you. I didn’t want your mistake to ruin your life. Look at you, a Harvard graduate, a successful gallery owner; you’re known all over the U.S. and abroad by art collectors and artists. Peggy Peabody is like your surrogate mother for Christ’s sakes. How would you have accomplished all that with a child holding you down?”

“He wouldn’t have held me down; he would have driven me harder. Seeing his beautiful face would have given me the strength and reason to accomplish more. You have no idea the enormous hurt I feel and the incredible rage I have towards you. I would love to take this bottle a smash it over your head,” she said, taking his bottle of scotch in her hand. “I can only imagine how Alexander feels right now.”