Sins of the Father by Angela Benson Page B

tears with
     her fingers, the first time she’d touched his face this way. The hairs on his face
     tickled her hand. This was her father! “I don’t want to lose you, Dad. I need more
     time to get to know you.”
    He smiled, this time a real one, and it made her smile back.
    “Something good came out of this,” he said. “First time you called me Dad. I hope
     I’m not dead and in heaven.”
    She chuckled. “You’re not dead,” she said, her eyes filling with happy tears. “First
     time I’ve said the words to you, but I’ve practiced them a lot.”
    “Your mother did a good job with you. She could have made you hate me.”
    She shook her head. “She never wanted that.”
    “Good woman.”
    Deborah had so many questions she wanted to ask him. Did heever love her mother? Why did he cheat on his wife? Did he love his wife? How could
     he ignore her and her brother all those years? All questions she had to put on hold
     now. Questions she might never get to ask.
    “Need your help,” he said.
    “Whatever you need.”
    “Take care of the family. Isaac’s angry with me, Michael hates me, and Saralyn hates
     everybody but Isaac.” He winced. “You’re going to have to hold them together. Make
     a family.”
    “I’m not sure—”
    “You can do it,” he said. “It’ll be hard, but you can do it.”
    “But—”
    “Just say you’ll try.”
    Deborah thought about it, but knew she really had no choice. The pleading in his eyes
     ensnared her heart. She couldn’t deny him—not now. “I’ll try.”
    “Good girl,” he said. Then he yawned. “Sleepy.”
    She rubbed her hand over his head, now taking every opportunity to touch him. “Go
     to sleep,” she said. “I’ll sit here quietly until you do.”
    Then she sat silently next to her father’s bed, praying he would get better. Strange
     that she had gone all these years without a father and now it would be hard to go
     on without him.

Chapter Twelve
    I t’s better than I thought,” Josette overheard Michael say on the phone as she walked
     into the kitchen of their recently renovated Cape Code in Atlanta’s Buckhead suburb.
     She had been dying to move out here, even though the price tag pushed them to the
     limits of their budget. Good for business, she’d told him when he balked. Those three
     words had sold him.
    “Sounds to me like the old man is going to be out of commission for a while,” he said
     into the phone. He smiled at her as she opened the stainless steel refrigerator and
     pulled out a carton of milk. “Let’s talk more about this tomorrow,” he said, hanging
     up.
    “What was that about?” she asked.
    When she reached up to get a glass from the cabinet, he came up behind her, put his
     arms around her waist and pulled her close. Kissing her neck, he whispered, “Ready
     for bed?”
    “Almost,” she said, sinking into his embrace even though she realized he was trying
     to turn her attention from his telephonecall. This wasn’t the first time he’d abruptly ended a call when she entered the room.
     It made her suspicious.
    “Let me get the glass.” He reached over her head, not releasing her, and brought down
     the glass for her. “You have a man to do these things for you,” he whispered, “so
     take advantage.” He cuddled closer behind her. “I plan to take advantage of you later
     on.” Still holding her body tight against his, he poured the milk and handed it to
     her.
    She loved him when he was like this with her, so affectionate, so protective. The
     doorbell rang as the first swallow of milk went down. “Who could that be?” she asked.
    “Ignore it,” Michael muttered, dotting kisses down her neck.
    She wanted to follow his lead, but her head prevailed over her heart. “We can’t. It
     could be your mother or Deborah with news about your father.”
    She felt him stiffen. “All the more reason to ignore it.”
    When the bell rang again, Josette pulled out of Michael’s arms. “We have to