Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“She needs support. More than me. She needs her daughter.”
“What… what did he say? Did he talk to her?” This was so unreal I was struggling to find reality at all. My father wouldn’t do that. Right? Not the man that had raised me. The one who quoted the Bible about everything.
“He came home that night after ignoring your mom’s calls. Told her he was in love with Maelee. They’ve been having an affair for five years. Your mom begged him to work it out. She would keep quiet. They could get past it. But he had said nothing. Just took a shower and went to bed in the guest bedroom. The next day, he got up and dressed, then left for church early like he always did. She went thinking perhaps he was ready to talk to her. But instead, he publicly humiliated her.”
I was without words as I stared straight ahead. Allowing it to sink in. Make sense. But that wasn’t happening. I didn’t think it would ever make sense.
“Is she at home?” I finally asked.
“Yes. I’m here with her.”
Of course, she was. Esther was the daughter all women wanted—the one who did as told and expected and never put her own desires above theirs.
“I’m on my way,” I told her, then ended the call.
Not once in any scenario had I thought this would be a call I would receive. My father was a respected Methodist minister. The man who prayed over the football team on Friday nights before a game, the man who took meals to those who were unable to leave their homes, the man that other pastors came to if they needed prayer.
“But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed,” I whispered the verse I’d heard my father preach on more than once in my life. “James 1:14”
• Eleven •
“No money can’t fix everything, but added with a healthy dose of revenge, it sure can change the course.”
Capri
The door swung open before I made it to the front porch of my parents’ home. Esther stood there with a look of relief, judgment, and bitterness, all flashing in her expression as she stared at me. We were not the same; perhaps that was why we were so close while growing up. Opposites attract.
“Hey,” I said as I reached the top step.
Esther’s gaze flicked over me, and she kept a tight look on her face. “You look different.”
The words “You don’t” were right there on the tip of my tongue, but I held them in. There was no need to point out the obvious. We both knew that I had changed, whereas she had stayed and would always remain the same—just like her mother, just like mine. She’d live their life.
I stepped past her into the home I had grown up in, and she moved back to let me in. My mother sat on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hands and an afghan wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and the dark circles beneath hers were puffy. She didn’t look the same. She had changed. I had wanted her to change, but this wasn’t what I meant. The life in her eyes dimmed, and her energy zapped.
“Mom,” I said as I walked over to sit down beside her on the sofa.
“You came,” she replied. Her voice hoarse and hollow.
“Yes,” I said. Although I didn’t know what else to say. What did you say to your mother when the man she had been married to for the past thirty-one years had left her and his church for another woman? I wasn’t sure there was anything to say.
She leaned forward, took an envelope off the coffee table, and handed it to me. “He left this,” she said.
I looked down at it and saw my name written in his neat handwriting. I didn’t want to take it, but she held it out, and I felt like I had to. Why would he leave me a letter? Had he not done enough to Mom? One final jab to leave me an explanation, but not her.
I studied it, not sure if I should open it or not. I was afraid of what he might say, but I also knew she wanted to know. She deserved more than he’d given her. Mom was a lot to deal with, but she had sacrificed for him and been an excellent minister’s wife. Her world had been molded for his benefit.
My stomach twisted as I slid my fingernail underneath the seal to loosen it. It was best to get it over with so healing could begin, and I could move on.
The paper was his stationary he kept in his office. Unfolding it slowly, I hoped I wouldn’t regret this. Maybe tossing it into a fire would have been better. Stilling myself and my expression, I dropped my gaze on the words.