Thoughts?
Hezekiah stumbled out of the backroom where he had slept all night. The sun was high in the sky, the morning far behind him. He swore as he stumbled into the kitchen. His wife, Miriam, glared at him. He glared back. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I am your wife not your mother.”

Around the table, his mother was collecting empty plates. His brothers and father were glancing at him, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and pity. Hezekiah held his pounding head. Miriam extended to him a clay cup. “I’m afraid everyone ate the morning bread.”

He took the cup, drank deeply from the brew. A warmth spread through him immediately. If his wife could do anything, it was make these brews. It was too bad she couldn’t give him a son or even a daughter. “Am I to go hungry today?”

His father scowled at him. “We have figs and a few slices of lamb.”

He groaned and sat down. “Miriam, if you would…”

Miriam, sweet, obedient wife that she was, went to fetch it. His father, Jebediah, took her wrist. “Hezekiah, go and get it yourself.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to see if all that drinking you’ve been doing has done any permanent damage.”

Hezekiah stood though his legs felt a little wobbly, set the cup down. The meat was stored in a cool dark cellar. He took a few steps, opened the chamber, took out some of the meat, which had been placed in jars. That done, still swaying slightly, he went to retrieve a plate. Miriam shut the door of the cellar behind him. Next was the figs. Wait, the figs were also in the cellar. Now, his fathers and brothers were all staring at him and so was his mother. It made him uncomfortable. Didn’t they have sheep to herd? It was nearly time to lead the sheep to the spring pasture. Why were they all staring at him for?

Miriam opened up the cellar, took out a jar and then grabbed a clay plate from a low table (where they kept utensils, distinct from the table they ate at.) She took the meat jar from his hands, laid the lamb meat on the plate and then put some figs with it. He sat down. A child. She was treating him like a child, not a husband.

Jebediah cleared his throat. “You were out all night again. Please tell me you were only drinking and not carousing with those loose Amorite women!”

“Would it be better if I caroused with loose Hebrew women?”

Miriam bit her lip and turned away. “I need to do laundry.” She hurried away.

Jebediah shook his head. “I do not enjoy scolding you, particularly not when you are a man, but as a father…”

As a father.

“I would be a father too if Yahuah had not taken my child from me before he was born.”

Silence. Miriam, almost out of the room, stiffened and then ran out the door. He could hear her attempt at silencing her sobs. Why had he said that?

Jebediah cleared his throat. “It was Yahuah’s will-”

Hezekiah slammed the table. “I never did anything wrong! Miriam never did anything wrong!”

“We do not always understand His ways.”

Hezekiah ripped into the lamb. “I do not understand.”

Miriam tried to control the sobs wanting to escape her throat. Her mother is law was already filling a bucket with water outside. She needed to join her, help her with the laundry. She passed by the preserved skull on the wall, the teraphim, paused. Touched her stomach. When would her womb be full again? Then, Hezekiah would love her again, but he rarely came into her now, not like when they’d been wed five years before when she was fourteen. She feared he was carousing with harlots. Maybe looking for a new bride though that thought was too painful to consider. She would not even consider sharing him with a second wife.

Beneath the Teraphim was the altar on which was a bronze statue of a bull, Yahuah’s symbol (though the Levite priesthood ruling in the South did not like such images) and a statue of a woman with full breasts, her arms out like an embrace (The Levite priesthood would have had a fit at seeing it). She touched the statue of the woman, Asherah. Asherah would understand her pain.

No, She wouldn’t. Asherah’s husband was Yahuah, faithful Yahuah. Miriam could not call her own husband faithful, but still. She knelt, placed her hands on the image of the Goddess. “Asherah, Great Mother, Tree from whence life sprang, I will sacrifice to you the firstborn of the flock. Just grant me a son so my husband will love me again.”

So saying, she ran out to help with the laundry.

Colour me interested.

Although...

Beneath the Teraphim was the altar on which was a bronze statue of a bull, Yahuah’s symbol (though the Levite priesthood ruling in the South did not like such images) and a statue of a woman with full breasts, her arms out like an embrace (The Levite priesthood would have had a fit at seeing it). She touched the statue of the woman, Asherah. Asherah would understand her pain.

Do you mean this image?

Because that doesn't look like a bull (unless that was what it is called, in which case my bad). Also, I thought Ancient Israel does not have statues of iconography, unless I'm missing something here.

Don't get me wrong, I am no expert on Hebrew/Jewish traditions and history (I know, ironic 'cause I read the Bible) but it sounds like I'm missing several historical and cultural contexts.

7963140
Hebrews, before the triumph of Yahweh worship, frequently worshipped deities like Asherah and had a bull cult. (The struggle between Yahwism and the folk religion/syncretism is covered in the Book of Kings and Book of Chronicles from the Yahwist perspective.)

7963179
Curious. You wouldn't happen to have a Jewish background, would you, or are you just generally interested in Jewish culture and history? Regardless, colour me interested.

7963298
...That obvious? Well, we haven't been practicing Jews in centuries (though Grandpa wouldn't let my mother put meat with milk), but yes, I have Jewish ancestry.