The Sins of the Fathers

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Rosen Estate

Sanibel Island

Florida

"It's very hot, isn't it?" Caris Johnson said, fanning herself with her book, as Brianna joined her on the porch, taking the seat beside her. Both of them were wearing light silk gowns, one out of an illogical need to cover herself and the other out of simple solidarity. Brianna would do anything to make her friend feel more comfortable, even in the heat and humidity of a broiling island summer. "Even this early?"

"That is what air-conditioning is for, my dear...especially if you insist on covering up?"

"I just can't not...not yet...but you don't have to...except for your Sunday penance?"

"It doesn't bother me...I am what my youngest daughter calls a social chameleon...I can just jump between cultures and fit in...and I want you to feel supported?" Brianna explained as best she could, receiving a smile of gratitude for her pains. "Are we going to pray together today? Inside the house?"

"I feel compelled...obligated...Sean says it is just a habit...."

"Like his smoking? And he has never kicked that habit...not that he ever tried that hard...it is time you need, not my brother's dubious encouragement?"

"He is being very nice...very patient...but I find it much easier to talk to you?" Caris said as Brianna took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Did you know that dear Gideon made him promise not to watch the video of my testimony?"

"Yes...my husband is...just occasionally...a very perceptive man...he made Seanie swear on my life...I think it was very wise of him?"

"He has an imagination...and he has heard similar stories before?" Caris sighed sadly, and Brianna squeezed her hand again. Back in the day, almost fifty years before, she remembered being in the swimming pool with Caris, pouring her heart out about some teenage drama she was involved in at the time. Caris, six years her senior, had offered her advice, and listened to her boyfriend's little sister whining about her privileged life. They had got close, despite Caris coming from a very different background, and Brianna had never forgotten her. "And I did terrible things...he knows about those sins...he must be disgusted..."

"Yes, he is...but not with you, Caris?" She insisted, trying to find the right words to get through the fog of her forty years spent in a living hell. "You were forced to do it...you were made to do what you did...and refusing to do it would have meant even more torture, more pain...and I know you did your best to make things easier for those poor women?"

"I was not allowed to use medicine...no painkillers...no sedatives...kind words and soft hands do not ease much?" Caris murmured, her eyes scanning the water in front of them, still not used to being outside, to having a view, to not be looking at the world through a veil.

"No one blames you...least of all Sean...I know you feel guilty...it is survivor's syndrome Caris...and getting over it is a process...you need to keep on talking...we will all be here to listen and to help where we can, I promise?"

Sean Fletcher watched his sister hug Caris from the office window. He could not hear what they were saying because the windows were all shut and the air-conditioning was humming away, but he could guess. He felt helpless. He knew that Caris was struggling and he knew that she needed time, but patience was not usually one of his virtues. He sighed as he heard his monitor beep, warning him that his next call was about to connect, and sat down, ready to work, pushing his emotions back into a dark corner of his mind.

"Good afternoon, Mr President...or rather, morning there?" Harrison Slade grinned as he leaned forwards to adjust the volume.

"Good to see you, Noddy...you survived the inquisition then?"