She felt Isaac’s hand on her shoulder, and the grip was not kind.

“You have been at war with me since you came here,” said Abraham. “I don’t know why God chose you, and believe me, I’ve asked him many times. But when I think of what will happen to my family after I die, my heart breaks.”

“Then why don’t you tell Isaac to send me away? He’d do it, if you told him to.”

“If you believe that, you foolish girl, then you don’t know your husband.”

“So you’ve suggested it? And he said no?”

“What God gave me, I do not refuse,” said Abraham.

“No, I guess we’ve learned that, haven’t we. So which is worse? Having me as a daughter-in-law, or being commanded to sacrifice your son?”

Abraham recoiled from her words—staggered backward, and if Isaac had not been holding him up, he might have fallen.

“Go back to your tent, Rebekah,” Isaac said.

“Oh, is your father finished with me?”

“My father hasn’t been able to get a word in between your accusations,” said Isaac.

“My accusations! You’re the ones who called Jacob’s sweet little writings ‘false scriptures’! You’re the ones who said I was a curse on the family!”

“While we were waiting for you to return,” said Isaac, “I explained to Father that I thought he was wrong to burn the parchment in front of the boys. That it would have been better to leave it among the adults.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know he was going to burn it from the start. Why else would he have that fire burning in front of the tent where we never have a fire?”

“Now she accuses her husband of lying,” murmured Abraham.

“So you agree that you were wrong to burn the parchment?” Rebekah asked Abraham.

“No I do not,” said Abraham.

“I didn’t think so,” said Rebekah.

“And Isaac didn’t say that I agreed. He only said that he told me I was wrong.”

“Why do I find it so hard to imagine the scene? Isaac actually suggesting to his father that something he said was less than perfect.”

“Isaac isn’t as rash as I am,” said Abraham. “He speaks in private, when his words won’t shame me openly.”

“If only someone had been as thoughtful of poor Jacob. Not to mention Esau, who has now been shown as plainly as possible that it’s all right for him to despise his brother, because after all, his father and grandfather do.”

“That’s what Isaac said,” Abraham replied. “And maybe there is some truth to it. I was thinking only of the lesson about the scriptures. I didn’t think of what it might do to the way the boys regard each other.”

“So what prompted this sudden change? A moment ago you said you weren’t wrong.”

“Unlike you,” said Abraham, “I actually listen to what other people are saying, and occasionally allow their words to change my mind.”

This was so unfair that she couldn’t find words to answer him.