Sins of the Father

by Angela Benson

  The doctor turned and Saralyn followed after him. She heard Rebecca comforting Isaac and was glad her daughter-in-law was there for him. She hadn’t always felt that way, she realized, in the time the two had been married. To her mind, Rebecca had a bit too much “street” in her to be a good match for Isaac.

  She braced herself when the doctor opened the door to Abraham’s room. Her husband seemed to have bandages all over his face, arm, and chest. One leg, also bandaged, was lifted in a sling. She bit back her fear and rushed to his bed. “Abraham,” she whispered in case he was asleep. “I’m here, Abe.”

  His eyes fluttered open in his ashen face.

  “My sweet Saralyn,” he murmured.

  She picked up his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I’m here, hon.”

  He gave a wobbly smile that she knew masked his pain. “You’ve…always been there…for me,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Sara. So sorry. Didn’t mean…to hurt you.”

  Tears filled her eyes as they filled his. “It’s all right, Abe. Don’t think about that now. Just concentrate on getting better.”

  “I love you, Saralyn.” The words sounded as if they came from down a well. “I’ve always loved you.”

  She let her tears fall. “I know. I love you, too.”

  “Please forgive me. I know God has forgiven me, but I need you to forgive me. Can you do that?”

  She wiped her tears with her free hand. “I forgive you, Abraham.”

  He sighed, coughed. “Thank you.”

  She pressed her face to the back of his hand. “No need to thank me. I love you. I was always going to forgive you.”

  “You’re a good woman, Saralyn,” he said. “Too good for me.”

  “Don’t say that,” she chided. “You’re the only man for me. Always have been, always will be.”

  “No, no.” His grip on her hand increased and he winced in pain. “If I don’t make it, I want you to find someone else. Young.”

  “Shh,” she told him. “Don’t think like that. You’re going to be fine.”

  He grunted. “I need to see…children,” he said.

  “Isaac and Rebecca are outside. I’ll get them.”

  When she would have pulled away, he squeezed her hand and kept her at his side. “All children,” he said on a grimace.

  Saralyn felt as though her heart froze. Even now, when he feared he was dying, he thought of them. How could he expect her to bring them to his side?

  “I don’t know how to reach them,” she said.

  “Please, Saralyn. Do this one thing for me.”

  She tried to give him a smile but her heart hurt too much. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do this for you. Now let me go get Rebecca and Isaac.”

  “Thank you, Saralyn. You’re a good woman. I don’t deserve you.”

  You surely don’t, Saralyn thought as she made her way back to the waiting room, where Isaac and Rebecca rushed to her.

  “How is he?” Isaac asked. “Can I see him? I need to see him.”

  Saralyn touched her son’s cheek. “He wants to see you two as well, so go on back there. His body is pretty battered but his voice is strong. He’s going to be fine.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Isaac said. He pulled her to him for a long embrace, then reached out for Rebecca’s hand, and the two of them rushed to his father’s room.

  Saralyn pulled her cell phone out of her purse and punched in 411. She pressed the Off button before the ringing began. She wasn’t going to call them tonight. Tonight was for family. She’d call them tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  Leah held tight to her daughter’s shaking hand and strode beside her toward the Emergency Room waiting area. She prayed the Lord wouldn’t take Abraham away before Deborah and Michael had more time with him. She glanced at her daughter. Deborah’s tightly clenched jaw told where her thoughts were.

  “Abraham’s strong,” Leah said. “Remember that.”

  Deborah nodded and kept walking. She didn’t speak until they reached the reception desk. “We’re here to see Abraham Martin,” she said. Then she added, “He’s my father.”

  Leah tightened her hold on her daughter’s hand.

  “Take a seat back there.” The woman pointed to an area around the corner from her desk. “And wait with the rest of the family.”

  Deborah took a deep breath and then turned to her mother. “Do you think we should? I mean—”

  Leah cut her off. “Of course we should. You’re his daughter. Maybe it would be better if I stayed out here, though.”

  Deborah shook her head. “No, I don’t want to go back there alone. I need you with me.”

  Leah nodded her okay. “Let’s go, then.”

  Deborah straightened her back and headed in the direction the receptionist had pointed. “I wish Michael had come with us,” she said. “He should be here, too.”

  “He should, but we can’t worry about that now.” Leah was angrier with her son than she’d ever been. He’d flat-out refused to come with his sister, leaving that task to her. Her kids deserved to be here. She was the outsider.

  Leah saw Saralyn as soon as they turned the corner. She was slumped back in a chair near the window, her head resting against its back, her eyes closed. A cup of coffee sat on the table in front of her. What to do? Leah wondered. She glanced at Deborah, who shrugged and took the first chair they reached. Leah sat next to her.

  They sat quietly, as if afraid to wake a sleeping princess whose face they’d seen many times over the years in magazines and newspapers. Leah couldn’t help but study her, though. Saralyn indeed looked like a princess. Leah knew the jewels in her ears were real and her fancy pants ensemble expensive. She looked down at her own outfit—simple tan slacks and a crisp white shirt—and felt lacking. She forced herself to look away from Saralyn.

  All three of them jumped in surprise when a nurse poked her head around the corner and said, “Jones family.”

  Saralyn looked at them, apparently thinking they were the Joneses. They shook their heads and the nurse turned away, muttering, “I wonder where they went.”

  Leah shared another glance with Deborah. She knew they were both thinking the same thing. Saralyn didn’t know who they were. This was awkward. It served as a reminder of how little impact she and her children had on Abraham’s family. His wife didn’t recognize them. That hurt. Badly. Leah gave Deborah’s hand another reassuring squeeze. Saralyn resumed her previous sleeping position.

  “When do you think they’ll tell us something?” Deborah whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Leah said. She glanced toward Saralyn. “We can ask her.”

  Deborah shook her head. “Let’s wait for the doctor.”

  Leah nodded. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “We’ll wait, then.”

  “And hold good thoughts.”

  “And hold good thoughts. He has to be all right, Mama. I can’t lose him now after only just finding him. We need more time. I want more time with him.”

  “I know you do, sweetie, and he knows it, too.”

  Saralyn suddenly sat upright and glared at them. “What did you say? Who are you? Who are you here to see?” Apparently, the princess hadn’t been sleeping at all.

  Deborah cleared her throat. “I’m Deborah Thomas and this is my mother.” She inched her chin up. “We’re here to see my father.”

  Saralyn jumped up from her seat. “How dare you?” she screamed. “How dare you show up here?”

  “Hold on a minute, Saralyn—” Leah began.

  “That’s Mrs. Martin to you,” Saralyn spat out.

  Before Leah could respond, Deborah said, “Mrs. Martin, I’m only here to see my father.”

  “Father? Now that’s rich. He’s never been a father to you, more like an ATM.”

  Leah flinched as though she’d been gut-punched. “There’s no need to make this ugly, Saralyn,” she said, stressing the name. “Debo
rah has as much right to be here as you do. This is an awkward situation for all of us.”

  Saralyn looked at her with disdain. “Who are you to tell me about rights? Were you right to sleep with my husband?”

  Leah recoiled from the question. She had no answer. The guilt from the past overtook her and she was left defenseless.

  Deborah spoke up again, this time forcefully. “Look, Mrs. Martin, I understand your feelings. My mother and I mean you no disrespect, but we also won’t be disrespected by you. Abraham Martin is my father and nothing you say will change that. So let’s sit here together like the civilized people we are. My only concern right now is my father.”

  “Civilized?” Saralyn began. “You’re going to talk to me about civilized?”

  “What’s going on here?” a male voice asked.

  All three women turned toward the voice. Leah was immediately struck with how much Isaac resembled Michael. They were both well over six feet. Michael had a dark complexion, like Abraham, while Isaac’s lighter complexion was like his mother’s. The nose, mouth, and ears were all Abraham. They were as evident in Michael as they were in Isaac. She wondered how anyone could not guess that the two men were related. Maybe it was her mother’s eyes that gave her such clarity. She wondered what Saralyn would see when she looked at the two boys.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” Isaac asked.

  “Get these women out of here, Isaac, before I do something I’m going to regret.”

  Isaac wiped his hand down his face and then looked at Leah and Deborah. “Look, he’s asking for you,” he said to Deborah. “You should go on back.”

  “What are you saying, Isaac?” Saralyn demanded. “Don’t you know who she is?”

  “Calm down, Mom,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Of course I know who she is. Dad’s asking for her and her brother.”

  Leah knew that the evening had taken its toll on Isaac. He was mentally drained. He had that hollow look in his eyes that Michael got when his emotions were on overload. The mother in her wanted to comfort him. She fought down the urge.

  Isaac turned back to Deborah. “Is Michael here?”

  She shook her head.

  “Does he know?”

  Deborah nodded. “He chose not to come.”

  Saralyn snorted. “At least one of you has good sense.”

  “You should go on back,” Isaac told Deborah again.

  “How is he?” she asked, biting her lower lip. She, too, was reaching her emotional limits.

  “He’s in some pain. They’re still running tests. They say he had a heart attack and that led to the accident.”

  Deborah nodded. Then she looked at her mother. “Come with me.”

  Leah shook her head. She wanted to support her daughter, but some boundaries had to be set. “It’s not my place. You can handle it.”

  Deborah glared at Saralyn as if to say, Leave my mama alone, and then she turned and headed to Abraham’s room.

  Chapter Ten

  Saralyn picked up her coffee cup and glared at her son. “If she stays,” she said, inclining her head in Leah’s direction, “I’m leaving.”

  “Mom—” Isaac began. He was too tired and too scared to deal with his mother’s antics. Not when his father could be dying.

  Leah stood. “I’m going to get some coffee from the cafeteria,” she said to Isaac. “If Deborah returns before I get back, will you tell her where I’ve gone?”

  Isaac nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He would have said more but he knew additional words would only raise his mother’s ire.

  “No need to thank me,” Leah said. “This is a difficult situation for all of us.”

  “So the whore is having a difficult time!” Saralyn said. “Please.”

  “Mom!” Isaac said, turning to her as Leah left the room. “What is wrong with you?”

  Saralyn crossed her legs and folded her arms. Isaac recognized the position. His mother had staked out her point of view and wasn’t going to budge. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Why are you being so nice to those people? They’re like vultures, coming here to clean your father’s bones.”

  Isaac sat down next to her. “You’ve got to get a handle on yourself, Mom. Dad wants them here. He said you were going to call them. Why did you call them and then treat them this way?”

  “I didn’t call them,” she said.

  “But Dad said—”

  “Your father expects too much from me. I didn’t call them. I was going to do it tomorrow.”

  “Then who?”

  She shrugged. “Probably Alan. I’ll have a word with him tomorrow. Sometimes he oversteps his role as the MEEG attorney. He had no right to invite those people to come down here.”

  Isaac took a deep breath and tried to understand his mother’s position. “Alan did the right thing. Dad thinks he may die, Mom. He wants to see them in case he does. Can you give him that?”

  His mother laughed an empty, cynical laugh. “So the tide has turned. Now you’re taking your father’s side?”

  Isaac shook his head. His frustration with his mother was quickly turning into disappointment and disillusion. Where was her compassion? “It’s not about sides. It’s about my father lying back there in that bed, unsure if he’s going to live to see tomorrow. I had to put my anger and disappointment on hold. I don’t want to lose him, Mom. He could die.”

  His mother reached for him, pulled him into her arms. “I’m so sorry, darling. I know you love your father. You have every right to be concerned about him.”

  “He’s afraid, Mom,” he said. “He’s afraid he’s going to die before he makes things right with all of us.”

  “Your father’s not going to die,” she said, as if saying it made it so.

  Isaac wasn’t so sure. “He wants to see Michael. Do you think I should contact him?”

  “Didn’t his sister say he didn’t want to come?”

  Isaac nodded.

  “Then leave it alone. If he wanted to be here, he’d be here.”

  “This is not about him, Mom. It’s about Dad.”

  She pulled away from him. “Do what you feel you have to do, Isaac, but don’t forget that the boy has every reason to hate you. If you reach out, don’t be surprised if you lose a limb.”

  Isaac considered his mother’s words and knew she was right. He didn’t want to contact Michael, but he did want to honor his father’s wishes. “Maybe I’ll talk to his mother. What do you think?”

  “Do what you want, Isaac. I say leave those people alone, but do what you want.”

  Isaac knew he was hurting his mother, but he didn’t think he could live with himself if his father died and he hadn’t tried to convince Michael to see him. He stood and pressed a kiss against his mother’s forehead. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I know, son,” she said. “Just be careful.”

  “I will,” he said. Then he left the waiting area and headed for the cafeteria to find Deborah’s mother.

  He didn’t have to go far. She hadn’t gone to the cafeteria after all. She was seated out in the main waiting room, in front of the reception desk.

  He walked over to her. “Missus…ah, Miss…ah—”

  “Just call me Leah,” she said.

  He cleared his throat. Though he tried to keep his thoughts in the present, he was unsuccessful. He wondered why his father had chosen this plain, seemingly unassuming woman when he’d had the beautiful and vivacious Saralyn. “Leah, my father is asking for Michael. I know Deborah said he didn’t want to come, but is there any chance you can convince him? Dad really wants to see him.”

  She began wringing her hands. “Michael is so stubborn. No, I don’t think I’ll be able to convince him.”

  “What if I got in touch with him?”

  She met his eyes. “You?”

  Isaac nodded. “I’d try,” he said. “For my father.”

  She hesitated, and Isaac wondered what she was thinking. “He sho
uld be home now,” she said finally. She pulled out a pad and scribbled on it. “Here’s his number. Good luck.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Did I doze off?” Abraham asked Deborah, who was perched on a chair next to his bed.

  She stood and leaned on the bed railing. “For a few moments.” She bit her lip to keep from crying. Her father, who had been full of strength and vigor at their last lunch together, now lay weak and ashen in a hospital bed. He seemed to have aged more than ten years in that short time.

  He groaned. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

  “That’s okay. I can leave so you can sleep.”

  His eyes fluttered closed and then opened. “No, stay. Talk to me.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” He grimaced, and she winced, feeling his pain. “Do you want me to ask the nurse for more medicine?”

  “You mean Nurse Ratchet? No way.” He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.

  She hurt for him, for her and for the time she had missed with him. She was also angry. Why did he wait so late to come into her life?

  “Your brother?” he asked.

  She pushed her anger aside. “He couldn’t make it,” she said, not wanting to blurt out the truth.

  “Don’t sugarcoat it,” he said. “He didn’t want to come, did he?”

  Anger rose anew in her. This time it was directed at Michael. Sometimes her brother took his selfishness too far. Tonight was one of those times. “I’m sorry,” she said to Abraham.

  “Don’t be sorry. I don’t too much blame him.” He coughed again. “I’d probably feel the same way if I were in his shoes.” He tried to smile but it turned into another grimace. “Thank God your heart is softer than both of ours. You’re my girl, aren’t you, Deborah?”

  She smiled back him. “I sure am.”

  He teared up. “So sorry for the past…” he began.

  “Don’t worry about the past. Be glad we have today. I am.” She wiped his tears with her fingers, the first time she’d touched his face this way. The hairs on his face tickled her hand. This was her father! “I don’t want to lose you, Dad. I need more time to get to know you.”