Free Sins of the Father by Angela Benson

to believe me,” she said.
    Isaac’s mouth opened but no words came out. He turned, then, and stormed out of their
     bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
    Rebecca folded over and began to weep. She prayed she hadn’t ruined her marriage,
     but somewhere deep inside, she knew she had.

Chapter Fourteen
    G o to bed, Deborah,” Leah said.
    Deborah had sprawled out on the lovingly worn sofa in the family room, and Leah sat
     curled up in her favorite club chair. Had Michael been there lazing in the recliner
     next to the sofa, the family picture would have been complete. The three of them had
     spent many a night in this room watching television or engaged in some lively conversation.
    “I’m exhausted, too tired to move.”
    “I know you are, baby. You’ve had a rough day.”
    Hearing the concern in her mother’s voice, Deborah reached for her hand. “So have
     you. Thanks for going to the hospital with me, Mama.”
    “No need to thank me. I didn’t want you to be there alone.”
    “I know, but I didn’t anticipate the treatment you got from Saralyn.” She turned up
     her nose and raised her voice an octave. “Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Martin.”
    Leah chuckled. “Don’t let her get to you. You had a right to be there.”
    “You’re my mother. You had a right to be there as well.”
    Leah dropped her daughter’s hand and settled back in her chair. “I love you for saying
     that, and on one level you’re right, but you can understand why Saralyn didn’t want
     me there, can’t you?”
    “Because of something that happened twenty-eight, thirty years ago?” Deborah shook
     her head. “She needs to get over it.”
    “The kind of betrayal she experienced has a long half-life. I’m a reminder of a time
     in her marriage she’d rather forget. To be honest, I’d rather forget it, too.”
    “Well, I think she was out of line. Dad is going to have to put her in check when
     he gets out of the hospital. She’d better be glad—” Her mother’s broad smile made
     her stop talking. “What?” she asked.
    “You called Abraham ‘Dad.’”
    “I know,” she said. “It just came out when I was talking to him in his hospital room.”
    “How does it feel to say it?”
    “Good,” she said. “Natural.” Deborah noticed tears streaming down her mother’s face.
     She sat up and faced her. “What?”
    “I’m so sorry, Deborah.”
    “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
    She wiped her tears. “Yes, I do, and you know it. It’s my fault— partly my fault—that Abraham hasn’t been in your life. What was I thinking to go along with
     an agreement that kept him out of your lives? The little money they sent us was not
     enough reason. You and Michael needed your father.”
    Deborah had wondered at her mother’s decisions but had never been bold enough to ask
     her about them. “What happened between you and Abraham, Mama? You’ve never really
     told us, and I haven’t wanted to ask because it seemed painful for you to discuss.”
    “I know,” she said. “And I’ve known you were curious. I just didn’t know how to talk
     to you two about it. I wanted you and Michael to look up to me, and the story of my
     relationship with Abraham hardly paints me as a woman worth looking up to.”
    “Don’t think like that, Mama. There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me
     love you or respect you less. Me or Michael. You played the cards you were dealt.
     One thing I really appreciate is that you never painted Abraham as the bad guy, and
     you could have. If you had, I probably wouldn’t be able to accept him now. You left
     room in my heart for a relationship with him to grow. I thank you for that.”
    Leah squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I’ve always hoped there’d come a time when you
     could get to know him. You and Michael both. Things aren’t working like I’d hoped
     with Michael, though.”
    “I think it’s different for him because he’s a man. It’s been especially hard for