He stopped pacing and turned to her. The Atlanta skyline visible from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse apartment framed his silhouette. “This is so like him, “Isaac said. “He says he’ll be here at seven sharp and then he’s late. He’s the most selfish man I know.”
Rebecca had heard it all before. Isaac’s ranting about his father had been going on since he found out about the older man’s other children. It had been hard news for him to hear, and given the way Isaac looked up to his father, some disappointment was expected. But she hadn’t thought it would go on this long. To be honest, she thought he was carrying things too far, and making himself sick in the process. He’d gone to the doctor a few times recently for what she guessed were stress-induced maladies—headaches, nausea, and the like. When she asked about the visits, he just said the doctor had given him some pills to help him relax.
“He may be selfish, but he’s also your father,” she told him.
“And? Are the rules different for Abraham Martin?”
She sighed. Isaac was a good man, but sometimes he could be unrealistic in his expectations of people, as unrealistic as he accused his father of being. The standards he set for people were high, and if they didn’t meet them, he easily cut them out of his life. She feared the same would happen to her if he found out about her history with Michael. “What if we have a child, Isaac, and you disappoint that child in some way? Wouldn’t you want forgiveness?”
Isaac shook off her question. “I’d never lie to my child the way my father lied to us. I’d never treat children of mine the way he’s treated his children. He’s not the man I thought he was, definitely not the man I want for a role model.”
“You don’t have to be him to forgive him, Isaac. You just have to love him. He made a mistake a long time ago and lied about it. He’s not the first man to have outside children, and unfortunately he won’t be the last.”
Isaac was saved from responding when his mother returned to the room. Rebecca was always struck by the way Saralyn Martin swept into a room like a queen coming before her subjects. As usual, the older woman was perfectly dressed and coiffed, making Rebecca feel like a slug in her simple black sheath. She had never seen her mother-in-law when she didn’t look like she’d stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. The red sequined pants ensemble that she wore tonight made her look ready for a night on the town. Her trademark diamonds were in place on her ears, neck, and wrist. Rebecca suspected that she wore Jimmy Choo slides on her feet.
“Your father should be back any minute now,” Saralyn was saying. “He went for a short walk.” She cast a sideways glance at her son. “Maybe you could go meet him?”
Isaac shook his head. “Maybe not.” He looked at his watch. “If he’s not back in the next ten minutes, I’m taking you two beautiful women to dinner. He can eat alone.”
“That’s no way to be—” his mother began, but the sound of the front door opening cut her off. “Abraham?” she called.
“It’s me,” he answered.
Rebecca smiled. Who else would be coming in the house, a burglar? She scooted over to make room for Isaac when he rushed to sit next to her. Her husband was behaving like a spoiled child.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Abraham said when he entered the room. He bent to kiss his wife, and she turned, giving him her cheek instead of her lips. All was not well between the in-laws.
“You’re not that late, Dad,” Rebecca told him as leaned down and bussed her cheek. He extended his hand to Isaac, who took it after she nudged him. Abraham noticed and gave her a smile of thanks.
“We’re here just as you ordered,” Isaac said before Abraham could get settled in his favorite chair.
“And I appreciate it, son.” Abraham cleared his throat. “You’re all probably wondering why I called you here.”
“Of course we are,” Isaac said. “The last time we had a meeting like this we found out you had two outside children. I can’t even imagine what kind of bombshell you want to drop this time. Please don’t tell us it’s another set of kids.”
Rebecca watched as Abraham seemed to sink into himself at Isaac’s words, his normally larger than life persona dimmed by the weight of his son’s anger.
“You’re being rude, Isaac,” his mother said.
“That’s all right, Sara,” Abraham said.
Though Abraham smiled, Rebecca easily read the weariness in his eyes. She cast a sideways glance at Isaac to see if he saw what she saw. Her husband’s face betrayed nothing of his feelings.
“I’m used to his insolence by now,” Abraham continued, sitting up a bit straighter. “He’s behaving like he did when he was nine. I’ll treat him accordingly.”
Rebecca felt Isaac stiffen beside her. She didn’t feel sorry for him, though, because she knew Abraham was right.
“I’m in the room,” Isaac reminded them.
Abraham looked away from his wife and in Isaac and Rebecca’s direction. “I’ve made some changes at MEEG,” he said.
“What kind of changes?” his wife asked, concern high in her voice. “Shouldn’t you have discussed these changes with me before calling a family meeting? My father started that business. You can’t go around making decisions without me.”
He turned to his wife. “I love you, Saralyn,” he said, “but I didn’t talk with you about this because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it. I can’t let you guilt me into doing what you want, not this time.”
“Don’t blame Mom for your lies,” Isaac said, leaning forward and interrupting. “She’s not the one with the outside children. You are.”
Rebecca watched as weariness made Abraham sink back in his chair again. She marveled that neither Isaac nor Saralyn saw the toll all this was having on him.
“I’m not casting blame, Isaac,” Abraham said. “I’m stating facts. Yes, we’re in the situation because I betrayed my marriage vows and didn’t accept responsibility the way a man should. I’ve been a terrible example of manhood for you, but I’m trying to do the right thing now. And the right thing is for my other children to have a part in MEEG. It’s their heritage as much as it’s yours.”
Saralyn jumped up out of her seat. “You can’t mean it, Abraham. You’re not bringing those people into my father’s company.”
Abraham looked up at his wife, keeping his calm. “Don’t worry. My children won’t take what was your father’s. The newspaper will always be yours to do with what you want, but the rest of MEEG is ours, and I have a controlling interest in that portion.”
“But—” she began.
He shook his head. “There are no buts,” he said. “It’s been thirty years, Saralyn. I’ve treated those children—my children—as if they didn’t even exist for too long.”
“Please,” Saralyn said, waving a bejeweled hand in his direction. “We’ve supported them, given them more than we should have.” She thumped her chest. “I know. I wrote the check each month.”
Rebecca watched as Abraham took a deep breath, let it out, resolute.
“I know how you feel,” he told Saralyn, “and I accept your feelings, but I can’t let them stop me from doing right by my children. Not this time.”
“Stop blaming Mom,” Isaac repeated. Rebecca put her hand on his arm when he would have stood. She knew that would only escalate the argument.
“Are you accusing me of something?” Saralyn screamed. “What? For wanting to keep my family intact? For not wanting that woman or those kids to taint this family? Well, if you are, I’m not apologizing for it. I didn’t cheat. You did.” She dropped back down in her chair, defeated. “You did.”
Brushing off Rebecca’s hand, Isaac got up and went to his mother. He put an arm around her shoulder as he glared at his father. “I hope this family meeting is going the way you planned.”
Rebecca felt sorry for her father-in-law. “You’re not helping the situation, Isaac,” she shot at him.
Abraham gave her another grim smile, obviously appreciative of her sup
port. “I wanted to let you all know of the changes that would be happening at MEEG. I’ve asked Deborah to head a new direct-to-DVD production company and she’s agreed. She’ll be starting at MEEG on Monday.”
He might as well have said, “I’m blowing up the house,” for all the wailing Saralyn did. Rebecca saw where Isaac got his flair for histrionics. She glanced at Abraham and compassion for him filled her. He was only trying to correct his mistakes, but he got no reward for it. She was glad Deborah was welcoming his offer, because she knew Michael’s sole goal in life was to give his father nothing but hell.
Chapter Seven
That was a great meal, Mama,” Michael said to his mother later that night as he pushed back his chair and rubbed his belly. Deborah watched him as he eyed the leftover ham, greens, and potato salad. “Babe,” he said to his wife, “we’d better get us a couple of doggie bags. No sense letting all this good food go to waste.”
Josette chuckled. “This isn’t a restaurant, Michael. Mama Leah and Deborah can eat off this food for the rest of the week.”
Deborah checked her watch, cleared her throat to get her mother’s attention, and shook her head. Her signal told her mother they needed to keep Michael at the table awhile longer.
“The meal isn’t finished yet, Michael,” her mother said. “We still have dessert.”
“I can’t eat another bite,” Michael said, rubbing his stomach again. “But we can pack it up and take it home, along with the leftovers.”
Deborah shot a glance at Josette, who was also clued in to the evening’s plans. “I still have room for dessert,” she piped in. “Remember I’m eating for two.”
Michael smiled at her. “Yeah, you are.”
“Don’t make me eat alone and feel greedy, Michael,” Josette coaxed. “Take some dessert, too.”
Michael looked at his sister. “See how they gang up on me, sis. I think they want me to get a belly, too.”
Deborah laughed at her brother, and her mother and sister-in-law joined in. Abraham should be arriving any minute now. Their best bet was to have Michael at the table when he got there. Otherwise, she feared her brother would simply leave.
“You’ve never had a weight problem,” Deborah told her brother, putting a hand on her full hips. “And I’ve always hated you for that.” She turned to her mother. “What’s for dessert anyway, Mama?”
“Michael’s favorite,” she said. “Banana pudding.”
Deborah rolled her eyes. “You have a pregnant woman here and you’re preparing dessert for the expectant father? What kind of grandmother are you going to be?”
Josette laughed. “You know I love banana pudding, too, Deborah. And Mama Leah is going to be the best grandmother. I just know it.”
“Stop trying to cause trouble, sis. You’re just mad because Mama didn’t fix your favorite, red velvet cake.”
Deborah pouted. “I’m feeling sorta left out here, Mama.”
Leah pushed her chair back from the table, bumping the wall as she did. The dining room wasn’t that big. “No need for that. Red velvet cake is on the menu for Sunday after church.”
When her mother left the dining room to get the dessert, Deborah stuck out her tongue at her brother.
He laughed. “Girl, you need to grow up.” He turned to his wife. “Did you see that, sweetie? That grown woman stuck her tongue out at me.”
Josette smiled. “See no evil, speak no evil.”
Deborah held out her hand to slap Josette five. “Yeah, sister,” she said as their palms touched. “We women have to stick together against the men of the world.”
“Watch out, sis,” Michael joked. “You’re the only woman at this table without a man.”
Deborah pretended outrage. “No, you didn’t go there.”
“Oh, yes, I did.” He laughed. “Where do you find your men, anyway—the nursing home? You need to let me introduce you to some men our age. You wear out those old geezers you’ve been dating. That’s why they don’t last long.”
“Mama,” Deborah called out, refusing to be baited. “Michael’s picking on me.”
“I’m not picking on you. I’m serious. I know a lot of guys who would love to go out with you.” He glanced at Josette. “Isn’t that right?”
“I prefer men to boys, Michael,” Deborah said before Josette could answer. “So I’ll find my own dates, thank you very much.”
Michael shrugged. “Do you think you can find one under fifty? Maybe if you did, Josette and I could double-date with you sometime.”
Michael laughed again and Deborah just rolled her eyes.
Leah reentered the room then, carrying a tray with four bowls and shaking her head. “You two act like you’re five sometimes. Josette, I hope Michael doesn’t act this way at home. You don’t want to have two babies on your hands.”
Deborah laughed but Josette said nothing. Deborah could imagine what she was thinking.
“I know y’all see me sitting here,” Michael reminded her.
Leah served them each a bowl and kept one for herself. After she’d taken her seat, she said, “I call ’em like I see ’em.”
“We never should have given women the right to vote,” Michael muttered as he dived into his banana pudding. The women laughed and dug into theirs as well.
“This is delicious, Mama,” Michael said. “Maybe it’s okay if you vote.”
Deborah glanced at her watch again. Abraham was running late. She wondered why he hadn’t called.
“Why do you keep looking at your watch, sis?” Michael asked. “Got a late date?”
Deborah glanced at her mother before answering. “Something like that.”
Michael put down his fork and gave Deborah his full attention. “I didn’t know the guys you dated stayed up this late. Maybe he’s fallen asleep. You’d better call him and wake him up.”
Deborah shot her mother another quick glance, while Michael laughed at his own wit.
Michael turned to Josette. “Little sister’s been holding out on me. Did you know about this new guy?” When Josette just shrugged, he turned to his mother. “Did you know, too?”
Leah nodded.
“So why am I the last to know?” he asked Deborah. “You afraid I won’t approve?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, come on. Who is this new man and how old is he?”
“It’s Abraham Martin,” Deborah blurted out. “He’s coming over after dinner.”
Michael seared each woman at the table with a hot glare. “You all set me up.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Michael,” Leah said. “Nobody set you up. Abraham wants to talk with the four of us and we knew you’d balk at the idea.”
Michael got up from the table and reached out his hand for Josette. “Let’s go, honey.”
She shook her head. “Stay and hear the man out, Michael. What’s it gonna hurt?”
He turned to his mother. “So now you’ve got my wife defying me.”
“Please, Michael,” Deborah injected. “Nobody’s defying you. We’re only trying to get past your stubbornness.”
He poked a finger at his chest. “Me? Stubborn? Because I won’t fawn over a man who refused to acknowledge us as his children for thirty years? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sit down, Michael,” Leah said. “And calm down. I’m asking you to do this for me, not for Abraham. For me.”
Deborah knew her mother had secured the deal. Michael would stay for her, but only for her.
“You don’t ask much, do you?” he muttered, dropping back down in his chair.
“No, I don’t.”
The phone rang then. “Let me get that,” Leah said.
“Don’t, Mama,” Deborah said. “I’ll get it. It’s probably Abraham explaining why he’s late.”
“More like explaining why he’s not going to show,” Michael muttered as Deborah headed to the kitchen to get the phone.
Disappointment settled in when the voice she heard was not her father’s
. “May I speak to Deborah Thomas?”
“This is Deborah,” she answered.
“This is Alan Weems. I’m Abraham Martin’s attorney. I’m sorry to tell you this, Miss Thomas, but your father has been in an automobile accident. He’s been taken to the Emergency Room at DeKalb General Medical Center.”
Chapter Eight
Saralyn 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.”
Sins of the Father Page 4