Sins of the Father (14 page)

W
hy do women always have to clean up after men? Saralyn asked herself as she strode
to Deborah’s office after lunch. She and the young woman needed to come to a meeting
of the minds after that disastrous board meeting. It was obvious to a blind man that
Isaac and Michael could not continue together at MEEG. Even though Michael Thomas
was not officially on the board, it was apparent he was going to make a nuisance of
himself. Somebody had to take charge.

When she reached Deborah’s door, she opened it without knocking.

The desk chair faced the wall. When it turned around, she saw Leah sitting there instead
of Deborah.

“Where’s your daughter?” she asked, not interested in speaking with the woman. She
could barely stand to be in the room with her, but desperate times called for desperate
measures, as the saying went. She’d tolerate her as a means to an end.

“She’s in a meeting.”

Saralyn assessed this woman who had been her husband’s mistress, and as she had years
ago when she learned of the affair, concluded that she was not a worthy opponent.
She closed the office door and strode to the desk. Instead of sitting in the chair,
she walked around the desk and leaned on its edge, facing Leah.

“What do you want?” Leah asked, rolling back a bit in her chair in a futile effort
to regain her personal space.

“I want to talk about that fiasco of a board meeting,” she said. “You have to know
this idea of Abraham’s is not going to work.”

“That’s your opinion,” Leah said, giving away nothing.

Maybe the woman had some skills after all, Saralyn thought. “Look, Leah,” she said.
“Abraham tried to do the right thing by your children, but he went about it the wrong
way. He made it much more complicated than it had to be.”

Leah eyed her skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“It would have been much simpler had Abraham written a check. In fact, I’m ready to
do that now. Name your price and I’ll have the check cut before the day is over.”

Leah rolled back some more and then got out of her chair. “You want to pay us off?”

Saralyn followed her with her eyes. “Let’s just say I want to make a better arrangement
for all of us. You’ll get what you want and I’ll get what I want.”

“And what do you want, Saralyn?”

“I want you and your children out of my life for good. I thought I’d gotten rid of
you twenty-eight years ago, and yet here you are. So tell me your number.”

“You think you can buy us out of your life, out of Abraham’s life?”

Saralyn laughed. “I did it before,” she said. “I’ll do it again. Though I’m sure I’ll
have to spend a bit more this time. You went cheaply before.”

Leah’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Leah,” she said. “I’m talking about the checks you received
each month when your kids were growing up. Surely, you didn’t think Abraham sent them,
did you?” Saralyn laughed again. “And here I thought you knew Abraham. Honey, I told
Abraham to offer to send you money—it was better than having you go through the child
support system—and I personally had those checks sent every month like clockwork.
Abraham never gave you another thought until he had his ‘come to Jesus’ moment after
his mother died. He was too busy building his empire to think about the small details
of life, which is what you and your children were to him. Don’t ever think you were
more than that.”

“I don’t believe you,” Leah said. “Sending the money was Abraham’s idea.”

Saralyn shrugged. “Believe what you want. What matters now is how much the last check
should be for. Pick a good number because this will be all you and yours get from
us.”

“I don’t want a check, Saralyn.”

“What do you want, Leah?”

“I want my children to have their birthright.”

Saralyn laughed again. “Bastard children don’t have a birthright. Don’t you read your
Bible?” She took satisfaction in the pain in Leah’s eyes. She focused so much attention
on the other woman’s eyes that she didn’t see Leah’s left hand until it was too late.
The slap caught her totally off-guard. She rubbed her throbbing cheek but refused
to give any other reaction.

“My children are as much Abraham’s children as your son,” Leah said. “You and Abraham
ignored them all their lives and I went along with it, but no more. My children are
here, in your life and here at MEEG, as long as they want to be here. You can’t buy
them off and you can’t run them off. I’m sure you’ll try, though.”

Saralyn smiled at her. “You’re no match for me, Leah Thomas.
You never have been. You think I didn’t know Abraham was sneaking around with you
when we were dating? Please. You were no competition for me then and you’re no competition
for me now. You know why?” She paused for effect, to let little Leah stew for a bit.
“Because you don’t know how to handle Abraham. You let him tell you what to do. Unlike
you, I told him what to do, and look which one of us he married.”

“He only married you because you were pregnant,” Leah spat at her.

“You keep thinking that. We both know Abraham was always going to choose me. He was
too self-involved to make any other choice. Your only chance to get him was to get
pregnant, and I beat you to it.”

Leah studied her. Then, with a horrified expression on her face, she said, “You did
it on purpose. You got pregnant to trap him.”

Saralyn didn’t bother to answer. “I did what I had to do to get the man I wanted.”

Leah lifted her chin. “But Abraham still came back to me after he found out about
Michael.”

“I wouldn’t boast about that if I were you. All you got out of it was a second bastard
child. You still didn’t get Abraham.”

“I turned him away,” she said, “because I had sympathy for you.”

Saralyn shook her head. This woman was not allowed to bring up the miscarriage that
she had caused. “Don’t pity me,” she said. “I got what I wanted. Now pick a number.
We both know I’m going to win. I always do.” Then she got up and stalked to the door.
“You know how to reach me,” she said, and left the office.

I
saac rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped off the hospital elevator after work
the next day. The day had been long, too long. He wanted a day off but didn’t see
one in the near future. He had to deal with the all-consuming work of MEEG combined
with the ultimate dysfunction of his own family.

“Hello, Isaac,” a warm, feminine voice said.

He looked up to see Josette standing before him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

Her lips turned up in a slight smile. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, a full smile on her face now. “To answer your question,
I was here to see your father. Since no one was around, he and I had some quality
time. I told him he needed to wake up so he can fix this mess that he’s made.”

Isaac smiled. “It’s good to know that somebody around here is thinking with a clear
head. I hope he heard you.”

She rubbed her belly. “This little one keeps me sane. I’m not going to lose my mind,
even though it feels like it some days.” She met his eyes. “Your father is my baby’s
grandfather and you’ll be his uncle. Be honest with me, Isaac. Will you love my child
the way an uncle loves a child?”

Isaac didn’t answer immediately.

Josette began to weep. “I don’t want my child born into a family like this. Had I
known everything, maybe I wouldn’t have married Michael and I wouldn’t be here now.
But I did marry him and now I have to make the best of it for my child.”

Isaac felt her pain and wanted to ease it. He took her by the elbow and moved her
to one of the lounge couches, then sat next to her. “I’m so sorry you and your baby
got caught in the middle of this family drama, Josette.”

“You could help lessen the drama, Isaac,” she said. “All you have to do is give Michael
a chance.”

Isaac didn’t see how that was possible, given this morning’s board meeting, but he
didn’t want to disappoint this distraught pregnant woman. “I’ll try,” he said.

“Put yourself in his shoes,” she said, her eyes pleading with him. “Even though he
won’t admit it, he’s jealous of you and your relationship with your father. He’s so
focused on what he’s missed in life that he doesn’t see what he has. This should be
the happiest times of our lives, but Michael’s so focused on you and your father that
he has little energy left for me and the baby.”

Isaac didn’t have any words of encouragement for her so he smiled and said, “Do you
want me to beat some sense into him?”

She chuckled, as he’d hoped she would. “Maybe a good fight would get it all out of
his system. Think you can arrange it?”

He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “We already had round one.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Oh, no,” she said. “I knew he shouldn’t have crashed that
board meeting.”

Not wanting to upset her more, Isaac added, “There was too much testosterone in the
room. We needed an outlet for some of it.”

“You see, that’s what I mean. I don’t want my baby around a father and uncle who can’t
even be in the same room without arguing or coming to blows. I want her to know her
grandfather, spend time with him. How can this happen if you and Michael are always
fighting?”

Isaac didn’t know. Michael had crossed too many boundaries. His actions with Rebecca
and the anniversary gifts suggested a pattern that was unlikely to change. He would
bet that even now Michael was plotting his next attack. “The good news is that we
have a few months before the baby gets here,” he said, seizing on the one positive
he could find. “A lot can happen in that time.”

“That’s what I’m praying for,” she said. “Your father needs to get better. He could
help set things right.”

Isaac grunted. “That would be fitting since he’s the one who caused the trouble in
the first place.”

“It really is a mess, isn’t it?”

Before Isaac could answer, Rebecca rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. She looked
from him to Josette. He could guess what she was thinking. “I hope I’m not interrupting
anything,” she said. He detected her sarcasm but hoped Josette didn’t.

Josette sat up and away from Isaac. “No,” she said. “Your husband was only comforting
a crying pregnant woman. We tend to get a lot of sympathy.” She extended her hand
to Rebecca. “I’m Josette Thomas. Michael Thomas is my husband.”

Rebecca shook her hand. “Nice to finally meet you,” she said. She cast a quick glare
at Isaac, then added, “I can always count on my husband to rescue a woman in distress.
He’s not a man to sit idly by when a woman needs help.”

Seeming to sense the tension, Josette stood. “It’s time for me to head home,” she
said. “I’m sure Michael will want to give me the details of the exciting board meeting.”

Laughing, Isaac stood, too, ignoring the scowl on his wife’s face. “You take care
of yourself and that baby. Everything’s going to work out.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” she said. Turning to Rebecca, she said, “You have
a keeper here. Maybe together we can end this family feud.”

Isaac watched Rebecca watch Josette leave. He was staring at her when she turned back
to him. “You two certainly were cozy,” Rebecca said, accusation in her voice.

“Tell me you didn’t sleep with Michael after he married Josette. Please tell me you
had more self-respect than that.”

When she looked away before responding, Isaac had his answer. And it hurt. He’d loved
Rebecca, truly loved her. But he didn’t even know her.

“What matters is that I wasn’t sleeping with him when you and I started dating,” she
said, “and that I’ve never cheated on you. Have I asked for a rundown on the women
you slept with before we met? No, I haven’t. And I wouldn’t.”

“I guess that’s a yes, then.”

“So what was that I saw with you and Josette? Are you looking for a way to get back
at me, Isaac? Seducing Josette would be the perfect knife in the back for both me
and Michael.”

Isaac shook her head. “Now you’re talking crazy. In case you didn’t notice, Josette’s
pregnant—very pregnant. Besides, I barely know the woman.”

She bit her lower lip. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you.”

“Let me make this clear,” he said. “Josette is not part of our problem. Your lies
about your relationship with Michael are our problem.”

“We can work through it,” she pleaded. “Other couples have made it through worse.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see how we can. It’s too close for comfort. The reality
is that he’s my brother and you’ve slept with both of us. I don’t see how I can get
around that. Maybe if you had told me when you found out I could have adjusted, but
not now when I have to deal with the act and the lie. It’s too much.”

“But I love you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

He studied his wife. He tried to summon up the confidence he’d felt in their love,
their relationship, but there was nothing there. “You need to see an attorney,” he
said.

She began shaking her head as if she didn’t want to hear what he was saying. “I don’t
want a divorce,” she repeated. “I love you.”

A part of him wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t want to send mixed signals. “Get
an attorney,” he said. “I’ll be fair.”

“Fair—” she began.

“Excuse me,” a uniformed nurse that Isaac had met before said, interrupting their
conversation. “Mr. Martin, there’s been a change in your father’s condition.”

D
eborah sat in the passenger seat of Alan’s Benz while he drove them down a winding
road in the southern Atlanta suburb of Forest Park. When he’d told her he wanted to
take her somewhere, it never occurred to her that it would be to the Martin estate.
“Are you taking me where I think you’re taking me?” she asked.

He gave her a sideways glance. “You’ve asked a lot of questions about Abraham, so
I thought you might like to see his place. Was I wrong?”

Deborah had mixed emotions. She’d always wondered about this estate, but the idea
of seeing it only made her anxious. She remembered the trip she and Michael had made
out here and their reluctance to travel down this road to get a good look. Instead,
they stopped at the main road and had to imagine what the estate looked like. “You
weren’t wrong,” she said. “It just feels strange.”

“How so?”

She looked out the window at the wooded forest lining both sides of the road. “It
drives home the differences in our lives, his with Saralyn and Isaac, and mine with
Mama and Michael. I’ll have to show you where we grew up.”

He reached for her hand. “We can turn back,” he said. “We don’t have to do this.”

She shook her head. “No, I want to see it.”

“Get ready,” he said. “It takes your breath away.”

“Oh…my…God,” Deborah said when she saw the expansive two-story stucco, stone, and
limestone mansion sitting at the end of the road. The house looked like something
from
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
There was an active fountain within the brick herringbone-patterned circular drive.
“I never imagined.”

“Blame the extravagance on Saralyn. Abraham loved the location. She did the rest.”
He pulled the car to a stop near the front door. “Want to get out?”

Deborah’s curiosity overwhelmed her anxiety. “Of course,” she said, unbuckling her
seat beat. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

“Positive,” he said. “Abraham and Saralyn spend most of their time in their downtown
condo. They come here on weekends and when they’re hosting a big event that needs
the down home touch.”

Deborah stepped out of the car after Alan opened the door for her. “Thank you,” she
said. “And not just for the car door. Thank you for bringing me here. It was a sensitive
and caring thing to do.”

Alan pushed one of her braids across her shoulder. “It’s the least I can do. An old
man like me has to go all out to keep the attention of a beautiful young woman like
yourself.”

“You’re not an old man,” she said.

He lifted a brow. “How old are you?”

“A woman doesn’t reveal her age,” she said. “How old are you?”

“Old enough to be your father,” he said. “Fifty-two. Same as Abraham.”

“That’s not old.”

Alan threw back his head and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You,” he said. He took her hands in his and pulled her up the marble steps to the
mahogany double-entry front doors. “Ready?” he asked. When she nodded, he lifted the
gold door knocker.

Shortly, a black woman in her early sixties, wearing a dark gray dress and white apron,
opened the door. “Mr. Alan,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Alan leaned in and kissed her brow. “Thanks for taking care of us.”

“It’s not a bother. This house needs more activity.” She glanced at Deborah. “And
who is our guest today?”

“This is Abraham’s daughter,” he said. “Deborah, this is Mrs. Hall. She’s been working
for Abraham and Saralyn forever. She runs the place,” he added. “They just live here.”

Chuckling, Mrs. Hall extended her hand. “Welcome, Miss Deborah,” she said. “It’s nice
to finally meet Mr. Abraham’s daughter. You look like him.”

“You should see my brother,” Deborah managed to say. She was overwhelmed by the majesty
of the home. The foyer felt bigger than her mother’s whole house. She could see the
graceful ironwork of the winding staircase to her left. A rotunda library was to her
right. Straight ahead was what she assumed was the great room, and a great room it
was. A wall of two-story windows showcased the patio and gardens beyond.

“Well, I look forward to meeting him,” Mrs. Hall was saying. She turned to Alan. “Are
you ready to eat now or would you like to tour the house first?”

“What do you think?” Alan asked Deborah.

“I don’t know,” she answered, torn between wanting to explore
like a kid and to hide like a burglar. “I’d feel like I’m invading their privacy.”

“Let’s eat first, Mrs. Hall,” he said to the older woman. “I’ll show Deborah to the
back patio.”

Alan took her hand. “There’s no need to be nervous. This is your father’s house. He’s
opened his life to you, Deborah. He would approve.”

She looked sideways at him. “Would Saralyn?”

“Beautiful and smart,” he said, “a lethal combination. Don’t worry. We’re safe. Saralyn’s
at the hospital with Abraham.”

He led her through the foyer and the great room, on through some double doors and
out to the patio. Except it was a patio unlike any she had seen. It ran the length
of the house and was separated from the gardens by a short wall about a foot tall
that served as seating. She guessed the patio floor was made of travertine, which
most people used inside their homes.

“Saralyn has good taste,” she muttered, taking in the elegantly set patio table. She’d
bet the glasses were crystal and the plates were designer. Lifestyles of the rich
and famous, right down to the linen napkins.

Alan pulled out a chair for her and took the one next to it. Deborah couldn’t help
but compare the extravagance of this home with the humbleness of the places she’d
lived while growing up. They lived in a two-bedroom rental house until she was in
middle school and her mother had purchased a home. She still remembered the celebration
the three of them had the first night in their new but modest house. She and Michael
were ecstatic to finally have their own rooms after having shared a room for so long.
She thought about how hard her mother had worked to be able to purchase that home,
and how proud she’d been to do it. She wondered what Saralyn and Abraham would think
of the home that had meant so much to her, her mother, and her brother.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Alan said.

She turned her attention to him. “I’m afraid they’re not worth that much. I was thinking
about how they live here and how I live. They’re two very different worlds.”

He poured them each a glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the table. “It’s natural
to wonder what it would have been like to grow up here.”

Shaking her head, she picked up her glass. “You know Abraham,” she said, leaning toward
him. “How could he have all this and not share more of it with us? Sure, he sent us
money regularly over the years, but it was nothing compared to this. My mama had to
work, and work hard. My brother and I have always worked, too. I’m not saying Abraham
should have made sure our lifestyle matched his, but he certainly could have made
life much easier for us. And the cost would have been a pittance to him. I don’t get
it.”

“Be happy that you don’t get it,” Alan said. “It means your mother did a good job
with you.”

She lifted a brow. “You can say that after Michael’s fight in the boardroom yesterday?”

Alan laughed. “Everybody has an off day.”

“How kind of you.”

“Seriously, though, don’t waste your time figuring out why. It’s going to take all
you have to deal with now.”

Deborah wasn’t sure how realistic Alan’s suggestion was, but she decided to give it
a shot, at least for this afternoon. “I’ll try,” she said, sipping her lemonade.

He reached for her hand. “Let’s take a walk through the gardens and down to the pools
while we wait for our meal.”

She took his hand and let him lead her through the beautiful gardens. “I wanted to
talk you about something,” she said as they made their way down the marble stairs
to the lower gardens.

“Sounds like work.”

“There’s a fine line between work life and personal life these days.”

He chuckled. “Good point. What do you want to talk about?”

She paused when they reached the pools. There were two of them, an Olympic-sized pool
and a smaller oval shaped pool. There was also a spa that would seat about twenty
people. “Mama and I have decided Michael should take his seat on the board.”

He led her around the pools. “May I ask why?”

“We think it was wrong of Abraham to keep him on the outside. I didn’t have to prove
myself, and neither did Isaac. Why should Michael? It’s not fair. Do we have your
support?”

He stopped and looked at her. “You don’t need my support. Abraham was clear. As long
as you and your mother are in agreement, it’s done.”

They had circled the pools and were now headed back up the stairs to the patio. “That’s
it? It’s that easy?”

“I like easy,” he said. “Don’t you?”

Before she could answer, Alan’s cell phone rang. He dropped her hand. “Excuse me,
I need to get this.” He stepped away from her and took the call. When he hung up,
he said, “We have to get to the hospital. Abraham’s out of his coma.”