Sins of the Father (5 page)

S
aralyn sat huddled with her son and daughter-in-law in the Emergency Room waiting
area. “He has to be all right,” she repeated. “He has to be.”

“Dad’s strong, Mom,” Isaac reminded her.

Saralyn had to fight to keep panic from overwhelming her. Despite their problems,
she and Abraham had been married for thirty years, most of those very good years.
She didn’t want him to die, not tonight, not after they’d had such an awful fight.
She blamed Leah and those kids for this. They were the ones who had him all stressed
out.

“Mrs. Martin.”

The three of them stood together at the sound of her name. Isaac held tight to one
of her hands, and Rebecca held tight to the other. Saralyn took their strength and
braced herself for the news the doctor would give. “I’m Mrs. Martin,” she said to
the doctor, who seemed to be even younger than Isaac.

“Your husband is awake and wants to talk to you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s okay?”

“He has some internal injuries resulting from the accident,” the doctor answered.
“We won’t be sure of the extent until we get the test results back. We think he had
a heart attack and that caused him to lose control of the car. He’s awake now and
he’s lucid. That’s very good news.”

“A heart attack?” Isaac echoed. “Dad?”

The doctor nodded.

“Mr. Martin’s condition is listed as critical but stable. He needs his rest but he’s
adamant about seeing Mrs. Martin.”

“What about me?” Isaac asked. “I’m his son.”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “Your father needs his rest. Let your mother go in and
we’ll see where we are.”

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.

L
eah 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. “Deborah 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.

S
aralyn 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 should be home now,”
she said finally. She pulled out a pad and scribbled on it. “Here’s his number. Good
luck.”