Sins of the Father (23 page)

D
eborah and Alan sat at the small conference table in her office eating the Chinese
food they’d had delivered. Deborah dunked a fried wonton in a small plastic cup of
soy sauce and then popped it in her mouth. “This is one part of the job that I could
do without,” she said.

“Welcome to the big leagues,” Alan said. “Power always comes with a price tag.”

“So I’m learning,” she said, looking at the three short stacks of contracts before
her. They represented contracts she was going to continue, contracts she was going
to terminate, and contracts that were on the borderline. The borderline stack held
the most contracts. “I’d like to go ahead and let the writers in the first two stacks
know their status.”

Alan nodded. “The legal department will get the letters out within the next week.”

She looked at the second stack, the contracts for termination.
“Those writers are going to be crushed,” she said. “Making dreams come true is certainly
a lot better than killing them.”

Alan chuckled. “I think you’re exaggerating our power. You aren’t killing dreams.
You’re giving those writers a chance to resell their work. Remember that those termination
letters will each go out with a check for the remaining balance of the advance specified
in the original contract. Some of the writers will probably be glad to be able to
explore other opportunities for their work.”

“I can tell you’ve never rejected a screenplay or a treatment.”

He swallowed the last of his kung-pai chicken and then brushed his lips with a napkin.
“But I’ve been around enough to know how things operate. Now that you’re the head
of production, the buck stops with you. Like I said, the price of power.”

She folded her hands under her chin. “Is it about power for you?” she asked. “Is that
why you’re in this business?”

He shrugged. “It didn’t start out that way, but power can be seductive and all-consuming.
Once you have it, you don’t want to give it up.”

“That sounds more like Abraham than you,” she said. “You don’t seem caught up in all
of this.”

He smiled. “You’re being generous and forgetful. I’ve spent a lot of my life in this
building. Sometimes I wonder if the trade-offs were worth it. One thing power doesn’t
do is keep you warm at night.”

“Why haven’t you married?” she asked. “Abraham managed to get married, have a family,
and have kids on the outside. What makes you so different from him?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alan said. “I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing
really serious. I was devoted to my sister and my work, in that order. I didn’t have
the emotional capacity to support another demanding relationship. A lot of men don’t
have it but they get married anyway and their families suffer.”

“Like Abraham?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said. “Saralyn was fully committed to Abraham and she knew
the sacrifices she’d have to make in order for them to achieve their dreams. That’s
what she bought into when she married him.”

“I’ll bet she didn’t buy into him cheating on her with my mother.”

“I’m sure she didn’t, but I think women married to powerful men like your father live
by a different set of rules and hold their husbands to a different set of standards.
What might kill an ordinary marriage becomes a minor bump in the road in Saralyn-Abraham
type marriages.” He shrugged. “I know that sounds pessimistic but I think it’s true.”

“You may be right,” she said. “I think that’s one of the reasons I’m attracted to
older, more established men who’ve gotten past the “making a name for themselves’
stage. They’re at the point where they want to spend more of their time enjoying what
they’ve accomplished.”

“You’re a bit too wise to be so young,” he said, brushing a crumb from her cheek.
“You must have an old soul.”

“Thanks, I think,” she said with a smile. “No matter what you say, I still can’t believe
you’ve never been in love, never wanted to get married.”

He smiled, but there was sadness behind the smile. “Now you’re sounding your age.”

She punched him in the shoulder.

His sadness faded and he chuckled. “Okay, I’ve never been in love, but I have to admit,
though, that I was tempted to get married after my parents died and Alisha became
my responsibility. I began looking at each woman I dated as a potential mother for
her. Fortunately, or unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much overlap in the women
I wanted to date and the women who make good mothers.”

“I know you made a good life for you and your sister.”

He nodded. “Life was good. Alisha was happy. Women were plentiful, but not too demanding,
the way I liked them. I always figured Alisha’d get married, have a passel of kids,
and I’d be the doting uncle-slash-grandfather. So much for those plans.”

Deborah reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, Alan. Your sister was lucky to have such
a loving and caring brother.”

“I was the lucky one,” he said, shaking his head. The sweet smile on his face told
her that he was recalling a special memory with his sister. She didn’t ask what it
was because she didn’t want to intrude.

“Your sister would want you to be happy, Alan. It’s not too late for a family of your
own. I’m sure a lot of women would consider themselves blessed to land a distinguished
man like you.”

He grinned at her. “Volunteering for the job?”

She grinned back. “I’d need a detailed job description first.”

He laughed. “You see, that’s something Alisha would have said. She always had a ready
response.”

“She probably owed her quick wit to you. I know Michael forced me to develop one.
He could be merciless, so I learned early to give as good as I got. Something tells
me the relationship you shared with Alisha was a lot like the one I share with Michael.”

He raised a brow.

“I’m not saying you’re like Michael in all ways, but you and your sister were close
because all you had was each other. That’s the way it was with me and Michael, and
to some extent our mother.”

“Some extent?”

“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “Michael and I have always been more than a little
protective of her. So instead of taking our complaints and disappointments to her
all the time, we learned to take them to each other so we wouldn’t add to her burden.”

“What was it like for you, growing up, I mean?”

Deborah thought before answering. “How do I describe it? We were happy, you know,
but there was always the shadow of Abraham looming above us. Sometimes I wonder if
it wouldn’t have been better all around, kinder even, if Mama had told us our father
was dead or that she didn’t know who he was. It was hard to know that he was around
but didn’t care enough to be involved in our lives.”

“You amaze me,” he said. “After all you’ve suffered at Abraham’s hand, you accepted
him when he reached out to you. How did you do it?
Why
did you do it?”

“I’ve asked myself that question many times and the only answer I can come up with
is that he’s my father. I’m a part of him and he’s a part of me. Biology isn’t everything,
but it’s strong.”

“For you,” he said, “but not for Michael.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s easier for me to accept that I still need
a father because I’m a woman. I’m expected to be soft and forgiving. Michael’s entire
identity is that he was forced to become a man without Abraham’s help so he doesn’t
really need him now. That’s why I think Abraham should cut him some slack. Michael
has had to be the man of the family since he was a boy. Abraham needs to be the man
now. He needs to do right by Michael without expecting Michael to fall at his feet.
That’s not going to happen. Not in this life.”

“For what it’s worth, I do believe Abraham plans to do right by him. He needs more
time to work things out.”

“You know, that explanation really doesn’t work for me. Abraham has had thirty years
already. How much more time does he need? What he needs is to be a man and do what’s
right. Michael is as much his son as Isaac is. He should treat him as such.”

Alan chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s what you want,” he said. “You know the old saying,
the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Well, life between Abraham
and Isaac hasn’t always been smooth. Power can mess up a man’s thinking. The
only softness Isaac has seen since he got out of elementary school has been from his
mother. Abraham has been all about making him a man and getting him ready to run MEEG
one day.”

Deborah wasn’t ready to hear a list of Saralyn’s better qualities, especially when
the woman held them all in such low esteem. “As someone who grew up without a father,”
she said, “I’m pretty convinced that having a father who expected too much from you
is a thousand times better than having one who didn’t care at all.”

Alan was about to respond when his cell phone rang. He checked the number and then
said, “I need to take this.”

He stood and walked to the windows for some privacy. She cleared the table of their
leftovers. When he came back to the table, he said, “Isaac’s been taken the hospital.
Something about his liver.”

She jumped to her feet. “Liver? Isaac? I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” he said. “I was talking to him earlier today and he was fine.” He
shook his head. “I need to get back to my office, make some phone calls, find some
liver specialists. Abraham and Saralyn want only the best working on Isaac’s case.”

“Who can you call at his hour?”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “Another perk of power. I can’t think of anybody in
Atlanta who’d refuse a late night call from Abraham Martin’s attorney.”

Deborah swallowed. Hard. The perks of power, all right. “Is there anything I can do
to help?” she asked, knowing Abraham must be beside himself with worry, despite all
his power.

“You can hop on the Internet and find out what you can about liver disease and liver
transplants. The more information we have, the better we’ll be able to help.”

“I’m on it,” she said. She went back to her desk and fired up her computer.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll drop back by after I finish my phone calls, and we can ride
to the hospital together.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said, remembering the last time she was in
an Emergency Room with Saralyn Martin.

“It’s up to you,” he said, “but I think it would mean a lot to Abraham to know you
were there.”

She thought about the conflict she’d face with Saralyn at the hospital, and about
Abraham’s recent about-face with regard to Michael and the board seat and how that
made her and Michael feel. It didn’t really matter now, did it? Abraham was her father
and Isaac was her half brother. “I’ll go with you,” she told him.

He smiled at her choice and left to make his calls. She typed
liver disease
into Google and began her Internet search.

L
eah paced in front of the couch where Melvin sat in his living room. “Can you believe
that man?” she asked, winding down from a twenty minute monologue of Abraham’s visit
to her office. “I was a fool to think he’d changed.”

Melvin patted the seat next him. “Come, sit down.”

Leah didn’t want to sit. She was too wound up.

“Come on,” he said.

Reluctantly, she sat next to him. When he pulled her into his arms, she relaxed against
him. “No man has ever loved and cared for me the way you do,” she told him. “I’m so
blessed to have you in my life.”

He kissed her forehead. “I feel the same,” he said, taking her left hand in his. He
circled a finger around her bare ring finger.

Leah didn’t have to guess what he was thinking. She peered up at him. “You know I
love you, don’t you?”

He dropped her hand. “I love you, too,” he said. “And I’ve
asked you to marry me. Have you thought any more about my proposal?”

She eased up and away from him. “There’s been so much going on—”

He lifted his palm to stop her. “I’ve heard it all before,” he said. “It won’t make
any more sense to me tonight than it’s made before. Maybe something else is holding
you back.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. “There is nothing else.”

He met her eyes. “Maybe I should have said ‘somebody’ else.”

His accusation hurt. “Melvin, you can’t believe that. You’re the only man in my life.
You have been the only man since we started seeing each other over a year ago.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Well, you’re going to have to school me. Who is this mystery man?”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “Abraham.”

“Abraham?” That answer truly shocked her.

“Think about it. The man practically consumes your life.”

“That’s not true,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes, it is. What was your first reservation about dating me? It was that
Abraham and Saralyn were members of my church.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” she said. “I was trying to protect you from Saralyn.”

“That may be true,” he said. “But you have to admit that your past with Abraham has
been very much a part of our relationship.”

“I thought you deserved to hear about my past from me,” she said. “I was only trying
to be honest. I had no idea you’d use that against me.”

“I’m not using anything against you. I’m not even angry with you. I want you to be
honest with yourself so that you can be honest with me.”

“I have been honest with you.”

“But have you been honest with yourself? Abraham was your first love. You have two
children together. Even though it’s been nearly thirty years since you’ve been together,
I think you always held out hope that he would someday love the children you had together.
I don’t blame you for that. It’s what any mother would want for her children.”

“Then why are you asking if I love Abraham?”

“Because you didn’t end the relationship with him because you stopped loving him.
You ended it despite your love for him.”

Leah wanted to tell Melvin he was wrong, but she couldn’t. In some ways, loving her
children forced her to hold some warmth in her heart for Abraham. How could she see
him in her son’s face every day, or see his mother’s face in Deborah’s, and not feel
something for him? But it was more complicated than that. A part of her hated Abraham
for the way he’d treated them. To keep that hate from consuming her, she’d made excuses
for him. Excuses that began to blow up in her face when Saralyn schooled her on the
way things really were. Now the hate was coming back. It wasn’t love for Abraham that
was holding her back; it was hatred. That realization shocked her.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that I don’t deserve you,” she told him. “I’m not in love with Abraham,
Melvin, not the way you think. But you’re right that he does consume me. I’ve spent
all my life either loving him, hating him, or making excuses for him, sometimes all
three at the same time. He’s my baggage.”

“Baggage we can deal with,” he said, with a warm smile. “All you have to do is let
it go.”

Her eyes grew damp and she began to blink fast. “How can I? He’s back in my life now
more than ever.”

“You have to draw lines, Leah, establish some boundaries. Your children aren’t babies
anymore. They don’t need you running in
terference for them with Abraham. Their relationship with him doesn’t have to go through
you.”

“But I don’t want them to be hurt.”

“You can’t control that, and you shouldn’t. When you love somebody, you risk getting
hurt. Sure, Abraham is going to let your kids down just like he let you down. It’s
inevitable. But they’re strong; they’re going to survive. And in the process, they’ll
forge their own relationship with him, not the relationship that you’ve always wanted
for them, always prayed for them.”

She began to weep softly. “I’ve spent my whole life protecting them from him and his
disinterest. I don’t know if I can stop.”

“I know you can.”

She smiled through her tears. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m also right. It’ll be hard but you’ll do it. You have to
let them go.”

“But what if they think less of me as they get to know him better?” she asked, surprising
herself with the question. She hadn’t known she had this fear, but voicing it seemed
to lift some unseen burden.

Melvin pulled her into his arms, and she wept harder. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, “that’s
impossible. Deborah and Michael have enough love in them for both you and Abraham.
You have to trust them.”

Melvin held her close as she cried herself out. “I do love you,” she said.

“Prove it,” he challenged. “Tell your children you want to marry me. Trust them to
want your happiness as much as you want theirs.”

“Now?”

He nodded. “This is the best way. Telling them will signal that your have your own
life and that your relationship with them is separate from their relationship with
Abraham.”

“You make it sound so simple,” she said.

He tapped her nose with his finger. “It is simple, but I didn’t say it would be easy.
The good news is that we’ll face it together. That’s what marriage is all about, Leah:
being there for each other, holding each other up in the tough times.”

Leah let his words shower over her. Did she have the courage to do as he asked? Before
she could answer, his phone rang.

He lifted an arm from around her and reached for it. When he saw the caller ID, he
pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and said, “I’ve got to take this. Church business.
I’ll be right back.” Then he got up and went into the kitchen to take the call.

His absence gave her more time to think about the things he’d said to her. The more
she thought about them, the more she knew he was right. She needed to move on with
a life that was not centered on her children and their father, and her kids needed
to see her do it. They needed to be free to establish a relationship with Abraham,
knowing she was happy with the life she had.

She got up when she heard Melvin reenter the room. His dour expression killed the
insight she had been about to share with him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s Isaac Martin. He was rushed to the hospital, something about his liver. I need
to get over there and be with his wife and his parents.” He extended his hand to her,
palm up. “Will you go with me?”

Instinctively, Leah knew he was asking her to go public with their relationship. The
only reason she had for not doing it was the havoc Saralyn might cause in his congregation.
Could she put an end to her patterns of the past and move forward with a renewed life?
The outstretched hand before her told her she could. All she had to do was take the
help he offered.