Go 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 Michael to have had no relationship with Abraham, while Abraham has lavished everything on Isaac. Maybe I’d feel the same if he had another daughter. I don’t know.”
“All I can say, Deborah, is I hope you make better choices in your life than I have, that you keep your head when you fall in love. Don’t always trust your heart. It can fool you sometimes.”
“Tell me, Mama. I want to know about you and Abraham. What happened?”
Leah gave a wry smile. “I fell in love with a man who wasn’t ready to be in love.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think Abraham loved me, in his way, but he loved other things more.”
“Saralyn?”
“And what she represented. Abraham was always a big dreamer. I saw myself working side by side with him making those dreams come true. But Saralyn represented the dream. She and her family were much farther along the road to Abraham’s dream destination than either his family or mine.”
“So you don’t think he married her for love?”
“I didn’t say that. Of course he loved her, loves her still. But back then I think Abraham loved himself more than he loved anything or anyone else. How else could he make the decisions he did where you and your brother were concerned? He’s a better man today than he was then, I think. He’s learned something from life’s lessons.”
“I don’t know how to ask this…” Deborah murmured.
“Just ask, sweetie. We’ve started this. We may as well finish it.”
Deborah took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay, you had two babies with Abraham. Michael and Isaac are about the same age and I’m two years younger. What happened?”
Leah winced as if in pain. “It’s something straight out of the tabloids. Abraham was dating both Saralyn and me at the same time, though neither of us knew, and he got both of us pregnant. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t find out I was pregnant until after Abraham told me he was going to marry Saralyn because she was pregnant. When I found out about my condition, I had too much pride to tell him. Saralyn had beat me to the pregnancy line by about four months.” She shrugged. “What could he do anyway?”
“So what did you do?”
“I spent a year with some relatives in Ohio. I had planned to live there, but my mother got sick and I had to come back home. Abraham found out about the baby and we started up again.”
“Even though you knew he was married?”
She nodded. “I told you the story doesn’t make me sound like a good person. I knew he was married, but my heart was still his. It remained his until the day I found out I was pregnant with you. Something happened to me that day, Deborah. It was as though a lightbulb went off and I clearly saw who I was and what I was doing. I didn’t like what I saw at all.”
“So you ended it?”
Leah gave a wry smile. “Relationships don’t end in such a clear-cut manner, sweetie. I said the words but the relationship had been over since the day Abraham decided to marry Saralyn. I just refused to accept it.”
“So what happened when you told him about me—being pregnant with me, I mean?”
“He was dumbfounded. Before you even ask, no, he didn’t ask me to terminate. He was shell-shocked because Saralyn was pregnant again, too.” Leah lowered her eyes. “I wouldn’t believe this if I hadn’t lived it, but sadly it’s true. Again, Abraham had two women pregnant, the same two women.”
“Man,” Deborah said, “I had no idea.”
“It’s not something we talk about. Saralyn found out about my pregnancy and had a miscarriage. Though neither of us spoke of it, I think both Abraham and I felt responsible. Saralyn demanded that he cut all ties with us. I didn’t blame her. Abraham agreed, but told her he had to support us financially as best he could. Saralyn didn’t like it but she went along with it.”
Deborah thought about the harsh words Saralyn had spoken and felt a bit of compassion for her. “No wonder she hates us—me, especially. Why didn’t you tell me, Mama?”
Leah studied her hands. “Because it’s hard to think about that time in my life, even harder to talk about. I told you it wasn’t a pretty story.”
“No, it’s not,” Deborah agreed. She had a lot of new information to process. It would take some time to make sense out of it all.
“Do you hate me?” Leah asked.
Deborah met her mother’s eyes, saw the fear there. “I could never hate you.”
“But what I’ve told you makes you think less of me. I know it does.”
Deborah thought about it before she answered. Her mother had been honest with her, so Deborah felt she deserved honesty in return. “I’m glad you waited to tell me the details. I don’t think I could have handled all this as a teenager. I’m also glad you waited until after I had a chance to get to know Abraham some. I’m not sure how knowing these details would have affected my reaction to his outreach. I do know that I’m glad for the chance to get to know him. And I’m glad you’re my mother. You made some bad decisions, Mama, but you made up for them. You went off and made a career for yourself and you raised two good kids. Well, one good kid and one great kid. I’m the great kid.”
Leah smiled, as Deborah had hoped she would. “I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you, too, Mama,” Deborah said, standing up to embrace her mother. Only now did she realize the full gravity of Abraham’s request that she try to put the family together. There was a lot of history and a lot of hurt on both sides. She didn’t know if she was up to the task.