Book I Chapter 2
My darling son, my only child, now that I am gone, it is time for you to know some things. This is not an easy letter for me to write. I should be there with you and just tell you, but I am a coward and have taken these steps to give you this information upon my death.
Before I get into your heritage, I must tell you how grieved I have been not to be permitted to be a part of my grandsons’ lives. I know it isn’t your fault; yet it hurts. There is nothing to be done about it now, of course, but I implore you to please make their spiritual training a priority. It is the only way to overcome and break the family curse detailed below.
When you were a wee lad you used to ask me about your da and I always skirted the answer. It was too ugly for a child of tender age to hear. By and by you stopped asking and I never brought it up. But you must know; you must guard against it within your own heart. Though I’ve never seen any signs of it in you, it’s an ugly truth you must know.
I and my family lived in County Claire in Scotland. It was hard times. There were seven children in our family and Mam died giving birth to my youngest sister. I was the oldest. My father liked his drink and when he drank he wanted what he wanted when he wanted it. There was no denying him. Beatings and humiliation always followed if anyone denied him. When I was thirteen he started wanting me. I don’t know if Mam ever knew. I’d never have the heart to tell her. By then she was frail and still pushed herself to work hard scrubbing floors for others, even while carrying her youngest in her womb.
When I was nineteen I found myself with child. If I stayed in County Claire I’d have to tell my mother that her husband, my father, was also the father of my child—you, dear Keith. The drink can destroy your soul and make you someone you don’t want to be. My father’s father did the same thing to his oldest daughter. I didn’t want that kind of attention, especially from my da. I wanted him to just be my da. You must guard your own heart and teach your sons not to touch their own daughters when they marry and have families of their own. It’s a family curse and I pray the curse is broken with you.
You’ve been a good son, and I’ve always been proud of you. I’m glad you married well, though I must admit, I don’t understand why your new family has banished me. What did I ever do to them? I even made Lillith’s wedding gown right down to putting the glamour touches on it with the lace and pearls. She was a lovely bride. May you both be very happy for the rest of your lives.
Give your heart to the Lord and I’ll see you in heaven one day.
Mac crumpled up the letter and threw it across the room. What possible purpose could his mother have had in writing this letter? What was he supposed to do with this information? He paced around the room, stamping and swearing. He couldn’t leave the letter crumpled in the floor. His wife would see it, or one of the boys. Then his in-laws would find out. They already hated him. He would burn it. No. He might need that someday. Where could he hide it?
©2012 by Aleta Kay. All rights reserved. No portion of this may be reproduced electronically, digitally, or manually for any reason, without express written consent of the author.