A cold snap hit in late September, heavy frost killing all the annual plants. Standing at the French doors, Lynne stared at the icy ground. She was glad Renee was driving that morning, and also relieved that the paintings no longer waited in the studio. She could still recall Lawrence Abrams’ amazement when he saw her portraits, and how closely he had stood next to Stanford. Lynne had never imagined that Stanford was a homosexual, but then, Stanford had never hinted to any part of his private life, other than he preferred taking trains to flying. The intimate manner in which he had spoken of Lawrence rang in Lynne’s head, in part for what it had revealed, and in how it had been the first time Lynne ever saw Stanford’s guard drop. Did Eric know, she wondered. Probably not, for if he had, he would have mentioned it to her in passing. Eric Snyder had few prejudices, and Lynne smiled, gazing toward the glistening studio, as the sun peeked out from a low cloud. Stanford’s life had nothing on Eric’s secret.
She had told Renee that the art dealer knew about Eric’s father, but not that Mr. Abrams was aware, although Lynne expected that Lawrence knew all that Stanford did. What they knew were the legal aspects, which were public record. And they assumed why Eric’s foot was damaged. Which was enough, what Renee had said, after Lynne mentioned it. To Lynne’s surprise, Renee said it was more than what Sam knew. Renee had gently tried to introduce the topic, but Sam hadn’t wanted to hear her, and she hadn’t brought it up again. That puzzled Lynne, but perhaps Sam was still reeling from the truth about Eric, far more damning than Stanford Taylor’s choice of lover.
A part of Lynne wished she could tell the art dealer that she didn’t care with whom he lived, but Stanford would bristle if she even broached the subject. She wasn’t sure when she might speak of it with Eric, not because she doubted his return, but that now it had been nearly three months since he left, almost double the length of his last absence. She vacillated about staying on at work; sometimes she wanted to hunker down behind their property walls, emerging only for necessities. She didn’t want to miss Eric’s return, and she was tired of suspicious gazes. If she didn’t love this house so much, she might be tempted to move, when Eric came back. But no matter where they lived, his presence was a precarious notion, and growing more uncertain by the day. Lynne headed into the kitchen, her bagged lunch waiting on the counter, her coat and wraps draped over a chair. Renee was a good driver, and Sam had just put new tires on their car. The women still traded the driving duties, but that day, Lynne didn’t wish to pay attention to more than Renee’s chatter. Or maybe Renee would focus on the roads, and the trip would be in silence. Lynne usually detested the quiet, but the sparkling frost-covered trees seemed to demand reverence. Eric had said he would be back before winter set in, and for now, Lynne would hold him to it.
October began with another hard frost, then icy rain fell, putting Sam behind the wheel for several days. Renee and Lynne’s schedules were identical, for carpooling purposes, they had requested. No one asked Lynne if her husband was still away, but now rumors were hard to ignore within the hospital’s close confines. Renee had drifted apart from her usual circle of Catholic co-workers, but Lynne didn’t see her much on their floor, as Renee had been moved to the labor ward. Sometimes Lynne was called in, if several women were giving birth, otherwise she remained with those suffering from a variety of illnesses, some related to the unusually early cold weather. Then an outbreak of flu pulled Renee back to their floor, and for many days the nurses worked double shifts. Lynne and Renee managed to stay healthy, but Sam caught the flu, and for another week Lynne drove herself to work. Time sped by that month, and suddenly it was Halloween, which meant little to Lynne; no children braved her road, where homes were tucked far away from the road. She worked in the labor ward that night, a few babies born during her shift.
She was off for the rest of the week, which was surprisingly mild, after autumn’s blustery beginning. During that time, she visited the hairdresser, having her long tresses cut to her shoulders. She had told Renee she needed a change, and while Eric liked her hair lengthy, better to do it now, while he was still gone. While Renee worked, Sam visited Lynne at her house. They joked that maybe an illicit relationship between them would be the next grist for the rumor mill, but their smiles faded quickly. Then Sam cleared his throat. “I’m starting to wonder, I mean….” He sighed, then poured them more coffee. He didn’t return to his seat, staring around the room. “It’s been almost four months and….”
Lynne gripped her mug, warming her fingers. “I know. What I’m most worried about is how long it’ll take him to recover.”
She looked right at Sam as she spoke, hoping he understood her use of recover. What she meant was transform, but saying that word seemed in poor taste. But it was the truth, for Eric’s last homecoming hadn’t been easy, and now…. She sipped her coffee, then motioned for Sam to sit down. He did, and she reached for his hands, which he offered immediately. His grip gave her courage. “Sam, this time it might take him, well, longer.” Then she shook her head. “Of course it’ll take him longer, he’s never been away this long, and now it’ll be twice in a year and….” She inhaled, then stared at Sam. “If it’s very difficult, I might need some help.”
“How much vacation time do you have?”
“Plenty, but it’s not that. I’ve already talked to Renee about this, well, the last time we worked together. When he comes home, I’m gonna quit. I’d do it now, but I need the distraction.” She hated to say what else beat in her heart, what if he didn’t come home at all? But Sam’s slow nod indicated that he understood.
Then Lynne gave a small smile, squeezing Sam’s hands. “But yes, I will need help, or he will. And I think he’d do better with you than Renee. He didn’t want her to see him change, but then he wasn’t fully aware that she knew. But even still, I think he’d feel more comfortable with your presence, if that’s something you could do.”
“Of course, oh Lynne, sure. I’d be….” He nodded again. “All you have to do is call.”
“Thank you. I wish….” She released Sam’s hands, then grabbed her cup, finishing her coffee. Then she set the mug on the table. “I wish there was some way I could know, be here for him. Before, well, even if I wasn’t here, he changed easily, and could take care of himself. But now, I have no idea how he’ll be and….”
“Shall I come over here when you’re at work?”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that Sam.”
“Yes you could.”
Lynne gazed at him. Perhaps taking care of Eric wouldn’t be much different than what Sam did at the VA hospital. “All right,” she smiled again. “I’ll take you up on that.” Then she chuckled. “That’ll really give the gossips something to digest. You here, while I’m not? What’ll they say?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure it won’t take long for them to figure out something.”
Lynne nodded, thinking of a handful of nurses with overactive imaginations. “All right then. I go back on Friday. I know Renee’s off a few of those days, but it might be better if it was just you here. Not that Eric has anything against Renee but….”
“I know she’ll understand.”
Lynne nodded. “Yeah, she will.” Then Lynne rolled her eyes. “My God, this’s ridiculous. But then, it’s out of our hands. All we can do is wait.”
“And pray,” Sam smiled.
“I’ll leave that to you and Renee.” Lynne grinned, then stood. “More coffee?”
Sam shook his head. “Lynne, God hears all prayers, even those offered without faith.”
Lynne had stepped to the counter, then she turned back. Sam still smiled, and she chuckled. “Well, I’ll think about it. I know he hears your prayers, not sure about those from a heathen like me.”
She began to pour herself another cup of coffee, then she paused. Sam had been the one who prayed for them that night Eric came home, the stench of bird more than Lynne could take. She looked at Sam, but he wasn’t gazing at her, just staring at the chair Eric would b
e using, if he was there. Lynne didn’t believe in God, but the Aherns’ faith had worked a miracle that night, Sam’s faith specifically. “Sam, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
He glanced at Lynne, then smiled. “I took no offense.”
She set her half-filled cup near the coffeepot, then pulled out the chair on his right. Lynne sat beside him, then clasped her hands in her lap. “You were praying for us that night he came back.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Sam, that night, I went to bed in the guest room. The smell of, well, it was too strong, and I just couldn’t take it. After a few hours, I heard him calling for me, and at first I could still smell it. He’d taken two baths, but it was probably in the sheets, and the mattress, and still on him, and I was nearly sick. Then suddenly it was gone. All I could smell was disinfectant, candle wax and….”
Sam flinched, and Lynne wondered if this was too much for him, both in revealing part of Eric’s homecoming, and that Sam had been the one in the middle of the night praying for Eric. And for Lynne; both of them had been covered in Sam’s missives. Then he cleared his throat, nodding. “Renee and I stayed up late, then she went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. God only knows how many rosaries I said, I guess one of them worked.”
“Or all of them,” Lynne said softly, grasping Sam’s hand.
“Maybe,” he said, offering a strong grip.
Then Lynne snorted. “You know, maybe I should believe. My husband turns into a bird, why does the idea of a deity seem outrageous?”
Sam nodded. “When you put it that way, yeah. What’s wrong with believing that a man died, then came back to life, all the while proclaiming he was savior of the whole world.”
Sam’s tone was light, and they both chuckled. “Doesn’t sound that odd to me.” Lynne gave Sam another squeeze, then released his hand. “Thank you, for everything.”
“Wish I could say it’s my pleasure. But I tell the guys at the hospital the same damn thing.”
Lynne nodded, then she gazed at him. “Both you and Renee work with the sick. Or the injured,” she quickly added.
“Oh, some of them are pretty sick.” He smiled. “In body and mind. But black humor is better than none.”
She wanted to nod, but didn’t. Rarely had she and Eric joked about his transformations, and now, nearly four months later, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the future. “Well, yes,” she said after a pause. “Sometimes black humor is all we have.”
She stood, retrieving her cup, but no longer did the coffee appeal. Sam coughed, then stood, coming to her side. “Lynne, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”
“No, I understand. Those men aren’t any better off than Eric.” Then she looked at Sam. “But at least they’re human, all the time. Maybe they’ll always be shell-shocked or….” She almost said maimed, then caught herself. “But at least they don’t change into hawks.”
“No, but a part of them is back in Korea. A part of me is there too. It lessens as time passes, but we’ve all left pieces of our souls in that country. I imagine every soldier does.”
“Will Eric, will he….” Be a whole man again, she wanted to say, but then that too might offend Sam. What made a man a man, Lynne wondered. Was Sam any less masculine because he couldn’t father a child? She sighed, then stared out of the kitchen window. “All I know is I love him, and no matter how he comes home, or what he turns back into, I will still love him.” She met Sam’s gaze. “I told him that, before he left. He was saying that I didn’t need to stay with him, what a load of nonsense.”
Sam grasped Lynne’s shoulder. “I know what he meant. When I realized what’d happened to me, I didn’t want to burden Renee with that.”
Lynne nearly smiled, recalling that Renee had slapped her husband, when he brought that up, in the hospital no less. “But she loves you as much as I love him. You guys can’t get rid of us.”
Sam smirked. “Guess we can’t. She slapped my face right in the hospital, she tell you about that?”
Lynne nodded, and Sam chuckled. “No more secrets between us, I guess.”
Then Lynne looked away. Sam didn’t know everything about Eric’s dad, but that had been his choice. “No secrets,” she muttered.
Sam stepped back, and Lynne again stared out of the window. Then Sam returned to his chair at the table. The silence was only broken when Sam cleared his throat. “Well, I should be going. Just call anytime, day or night, okay?”
“Uh-huh. I will.” She gazed at him. “Thanks Sam, for everything.”
He was on his feet, halfway to the kitchen door. “You’re welcome Lynne.” Then he opened the door, quietly closing it behind him.
Chapter 21