Sins of the Father by Angela Benson Page A

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
     forMichael. 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.”

Chapter Eleven
    D id I doze off?” Abraham asked Deborah, who was perched on a chair next to his bed.
    She stood and leaned on the bed railing. “For a few moments.” She bit her lip to keep
     from crying. Her father, who had been full of strength and vigor at their last lunch
     together, now lay weak and ashen in a hospital bed. He seemed to have aged more than
     ten years in that short time.
    He groaned. “Sorry, I’m tired.”
    “That’s okay. I can leave so you can sleep.”
    His eyes fluttered closed and then opened. “No, stay. Talk to me.”
    “What do you want to talk about?” He grimaced, and she winced, feeling his pain. “Do
     you want me to ask the nurse for more medicine?”
    “You mean Nurse Ratchet? No way.” He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.
    She hurt for him, for her and for the time she had missed with him. She was also angry.
     Why did he wait so late to come into her life?
    “Your brother?” he asked.
    She pushed her anger aside. “He couldn’t make it,” she said, not wanting to blurt
     out the truth.
    “Don’t sugarcoat it,” he said. “He didn’t want to come, did he?”
    Anger rose anew in her. This time it was directed at Michael. Sometimes her brother
     took his selfishness too far. Tonight was one of those times. “I’m sorry,” she said
     to Abraham.
    “Don’t be sorry. I don’t too much blame him.” He coughed again. “I’d probably feel
     the same way if I were in his shoes.” He tried to smile but it turned into another
     grimace. “Thank God your heart is softer than both of ours. You’re my girl, aren’t
     you, Deborah?”
    She smiled back him. “I sure am.”
    He teared up. “So sorry for the past…” he began.
    “Don’t worry about the past. Be glad we have today. I am.” She wiped his