The ringing stopped as Sam opened his front door. He frowned, then placed his jacket on a kitchen chair, still staring at the telephone. It could have been anyone calling, Renee, Lynne, or any of Sam’s relatives. For all Sam knew, it could have been Laurie, but Sam disregarded that, if only for the long distance charges. If something was wrong in Florida, Sam expected to learn about it from Lynne, unless the news was terrible. Then Stanford would call, not that the cost would be much different than from Florida, but Laurie would be in no shape to pass along that type of information.
As far as Sam knew, Seth was still receiving shock therapy, as well as heavy medications. How was Eric supposed to help a man so inundated by psychosis, Sam wasn’t certain. He rarely dealt with such patients, for there was little for them to impart verbally. Sam had just come from the VA hospital, where his role remained unchanged, chatting with veterans who could talk about battles, but were unable to relate those experiences within everyday life. Their problems might be similar to those Seth had initially suffered, but what that man now endured was well beyond anything Sam could tackle. Sam prayed that Lynne would receive a letter from Laurie noting how that hawk had simply disappeared. Sam might have to return to posing for his portrait, but even that would be preferable to waiting for Eric’s homecoming.
Small guilt edged Sam’s thoughts, for when he’d last been at the Snyders, chasing after Johnny and Helene, he’d spied that unfinished project in the studio. Eric had painted Sam with his hands in his pockets, but it was an ethereal gesture. Instead Sam viewed his arms crossed tightly over his chest, like standing in front of the Chevy was a form of torture. Then he grimaced, staring at the phone, wondering who had called. Maybe it had been someone from St. Francis’ Orphanage. Father Markham had returned from his retreat, sending the Aherns’ details and priestly references to that home, and once again Sam and Renee were in a holding pattern. But this time, even with Eric’s absence, Sam wasn’t tentative. He wanted this change, though the timing seemed poor concerning Eric and Seth. A year had passed since Frannie lost the twins, which she had pointedly remarked upon over the weekend. Her visit had carried an ominous sense, which was exacerbated when she revealed that she and Louie knew about those New Yorkers. Sam had half expected her to mention Eric as a hawk once she had dropped that other bomb, but concerning Lynne’s husband, Frannie only said how special was that man, and how good that he had gone to support Laurie. Her poignant tone had been a little hard for Sam to hear, wrapped up in her lost sons, Lynne’s missing husband, and Laurie’s ill cousin. Then Fran had smiled, noting how good it was that Stanford had traveled to Miami, something Renee had briefly spoken about when Frannie first arrived. Sam wasn’t even sure how it had come up, but perhaps it had merely been so his sister could reveal what allegedly she and Louie had noticed the first time they met the New Yorkers. Sam felt a little dumb, for he’d known them a good while before realizing the truth, which he’d not taken as blithely as his oldest sibling. Sam would love to know what Louie thought, but that would be gossiping behind Laurie and Stanford’s backs. He, Fran, and Renee did discuss Ritchie and Brenda’s separation, and again Sam had been stunned by his sister’s liberal views. She didn’t think a divorce would be so bad, especially for how damaged was the Nolans’ marriage. Renee had to agree, although her mother was heartsick over it. Ritchie was drinking again, while Brenda was in the process of choosing a lawyer, Renee had said quietly. But better for Brenda and their children not to see him so unwell, she had added, leaving her parents’ sorrow over their alcoholic son unstated.
Sam had wanted to interject that maybe a new Ahern would stir Marie and Gene’s joy, but he’d held his tongue, not wanting to offend his sister. On the way home from Lynne’s, Sam had told Renee his thoughts, and she had started sniffling, but not from sadness. Now Sam talked openly with his wife about parenthood, but it was one of the few topics that didn’t carry a dark cloud. Yet unlike at this time last year, Sam didn’t feel suffocated. The anger and grief he’d possessed when Fran lost the twins had been directly related to him, while Eric and Seth were…. They were his brothers, but not by blood. Then Sam sighed. The child he and Renee would adopt would be similar, and would that detachment linger? He wouldn’t know until they got that far, and he glared at the telephone.
If some had called from the orphanage, they would try again, as would anyone else with pertinent information. Sam turned his attention to the refrigerator. He needed to start cooking, for regardless of who had called, Renee would come home, wondering what there was to eat. He smiled, for their appetites had returned, weight regained. Sam patted his gut, which was larger than Lynne’s, but not by much. With this baby she was already showing, and said she could feel it. Renee had tried, but the flutters were too slight, what she’d mentioned on their way home, but not around Fran. Sam didn’t think too much about his sister being with Lynne when she had that baby. January was months away.
More on Sam’s mind was that coming weekend; he wanted to barbeque, but not at the Snyders. Maybe he could invite Marek too. Sam smirked, then sighed. Then he was curious; Frannie knew about the New Yorkers, did that Pole know as well? Probably, Sam allowed. Marek knew a lot for not having lived long in this town. But did he understand how much Sam had sacrificed by letting Eric paint his portrait?
Sam ignored that, instead focusing on dinner. By the time Renee shouted that she was home, Sam had supper waiting. Renee entered the kitchen with a smile, then joked that her stomach had rumbled all the way from work. Her kiss was light on Sam’s cheek, but her hug was robust, and she pressed against him. “Smells so good honey,” she giggled. “My goodness I’m hungry.”
Then her kisses were more fervent, placed along the back of his neck, making him shiver. He turned around, wrapping her close, running his hands through her hair, which was again cut short. She’d done that recently, not giving a reason other than it was easy to care for. He hadn’t asked if that was because she thought her time might soon be curtailed, then he gripped her with force, so grateful she was standing near him at all. A year ago they had been far apart, all his fault. Lynne and Jane were living alone and that pained Sam, but Renee was in his arms and very happy to be so, vigorously kissing him. If not for dinner, Sam would take her into their bedroom and….
The phone rang and while Renee didn’t seem to care, Sam pulled away. “Someone called when I got home,” he said quickly. “I don’t wanna miss them again.”
Renee’s eyes went wide as she nodded. “Answer it Sam.”
He picked up the receiver. “Hello? Oh hi Vivian.” Now he rolled his eyes, staring at his wife. “Yeah, Renee’s right here.” Sam pointed the receiver toward his wife and Renee stepped his way.
“Hi Vivian. Everything all right?” Renee’s voice relayed her slight frustration. Both of them were edgy when it came to the possibility of…. Sam returned to the stove. As soon as Renee was off the phone, he’d dish up supper, but better for food to stay warm in the meantime.
Then Sam stared at his wife. Usually Renee was chatty, but she said nothing more than uh-huh. Sam went to where she stood, finding she had one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, the other gripping the receiver so hard her knuckles were white. Had a patient died, Sam wondered, or had something happened to Dr. Howard? Renee’s head was bent over, Sam couldn’t see her face. But she shivered and he put his arm around her. To his surprise, she leaned against him as if otherwise she would fall to the floor.
“Okay, well, take as long as you need. And keep in touch, uh-huh. Yeah, I’ll let everyone know. And we’ll be praying for you all. Okay, sure. Take care and fly safely. Bye bye.” Renee’s voice trembled as she hung up the phone. Then she burrowed against Sam’s chest, her whole bearing shaky. Then she burst into tears.
“Baby, what is it?” Sam clutched her, then brushed short hairs from her face. He kissed her forehead, but didn’t pull her away. She seemed on the verge of a breakdown, but didn’t want to sit. “Oh Renee, sweetheart….”
She wept for over a minute, then looked at him, sniffling as she did so. Her eyes were huge, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Renee, my God, what happened?” Sam brushed away some of those tears, but another wave poured from her eyes. “Honey?”
“Oh Sam, her niece, Vivian’s niece was in a terrible car accident! She just got a call from a hospital in Colorado, she’s their only next of kin. She thinks, oh my God….” Renee closed her eyes, then crossed herself. “Her niece’s in critical condition, the woman I met, when I took them the bear. And it doesn’t sound good for her husband.”
Sam swallowed hard, but bile crept up his throat. “Oh dear God no.”
“She’s not sure about the, the….” Renee erupted in tears again, and it took another minute for her to speak. “Vivian doesn’t know if the kids were with them, all she said was that her niece was, she was….” Again Renee sobbed, nestling against Sam. She only pulled away to retrieve a napkin from the table, but she sat before blowing her nose. Sam sat beside her, gripping her hands when she was through.
“Is she going out there, is that why she called?” he asked gently.
“Yeah, she’s leaving tonight. She has no idea when she’ll be back, and she tried calling Dr. Howard, but he wasn’t home.” Renee glanced at the clock. “I’ll try him in a little while. Oh Sam, that woman was her only living relative, her and the….” Renee choked, then shook her head. “Oh what if they’re, what if….”
Sam nodded; it was one thing to think of adults losing their lives, but little children? Sam winced; the twins had been gone a year, but they had been so sick and tiny. Not that Sam knew anything about these kids, but Renee had seen them; she’d found the little girl’s bear, with the plaid scarf. Sam recalled that story from earlier in summer as if Renee had just run that errand. Having left the bear at the office, the girl had been brokenhearted without it. That innocuous task had ushered in where the Aherns now were regarding adoption. If not for that stuffed animal, would Renee had finally come around?
Maybe, Sam thought, but perhaps not until after Eric had returned from Florida, or perhaps never. Sam glanced again at the phone; Renee had still been at work when Sam missed that earlier call, maybe it was just a wrong number. Maybe Sam would never know, but if not for that missed call, perhaps he wouldn’t have been as eager to answer Vivian’s. Sam shook his head; trivial details were better to consider than the tragedy unfolding for Renee’s co-worker. Cradling his still weeping wife, Sam shut his eyes and began to pray. They probably wouldn’t hear anything until sometime tomorrow, leaving plenty of time to offer their petitions to Christ.
The next morning Sam drove Renee to work. Then he headed to Lynne’s, where he’d told Renee to call him as soon as she heard anything from Vivian. Lynne was surprised by Sam’s arrival, but once she learned the reason, she hugged him, then started another pot of decaf.
Sam ate a piece of boysenberry pie while Lynne did the breakfast dishes. Jane was chatty, and Sam studied her, finding other than her eye color how much she looked like her mother. Freckles were just starting to dot Jane’s cheeks, and her facial structure reminded Sam so much of Lynne that he found himself staring at mother, then daughter, looking for any differences. Sam couldn’t spot any, which made him wonder what the new baby would look like. If it was a boy, perhaps he would be Eric’s doppelganger, but if it was another girl, would she have blue eyes like Jane, or brown like Lynne? Lynne came to the table, then took Jane from the high chair, placing the toddler on her lap. Jane’s smile was fetching, but Lynne was somber. But still they were like twins; had Vivian’s niece shared a similar bond with her daughter?
Was that woman alive, or dead as Renee feared. Sam gazed at the clock, it was just past nine. “I wonder when we’ll learn anything.”
Lynne sighed, stroking Jane’s head. “They’re an hour ahead of us, not sure if that’ll make any difference. What a terrible thing!” Lynne kept her voice even, but her eyes appeared haunted. She kissed Jane’s head, then shook her own. “I’m glad you came over. I mean, not for the news, but it’s good to see you.” Her smile was wan, but color rose in her cheeks. “I think mornings are hardest. I wake up and he’s gone and I have to get used to that throughout the day. It used to be bedtime was bad, but now I’m so tired at the end of the night, I never have trouble falling asleep.”
Sam had been half-listening, but her tone as she stopped speaking was nearly rote. He met her gaze, seeing a strange fortitude in her eyes. Lynne was weary, but this wasn’t new, other than not being completely alone. And not only was there Jane; Lynne was visibly pregnant now, her face rounder than usual, her arms filling out. Even with the table blocking much of his view, Sam could see the difference, then he wondered if he hadn’t been looking for this change a few days back when Frannie was with them.
Lynne appeared as she had two years ago when carrying the girl who didn’t look at all like a baby. Jane was in between that toddler-little girl stage, but then she was nearly eighteen months old. Sam shivered; Eric had been away for eight weeks, did Jane remember him? Assuming that little girl and boy were all right, for how long would they recall their mother or their father, if he too had…. Sam’s stomach ached, but he could do nothing for that family other than pray. He reached for Lynne’s hands, then recited the Lord’s Prayer. Lynne joined him, but when they finished, Sam still felt sick inside.
Jane began to squawk and Lynne took her upstairs. Sam remained at the table, but didn’t finish his coffee. He stared at the furnishings, then realized he had no idea what to make for that evening’s meal. He stood, heading for the cupboards; perhaps he would cook there that night, better to be with family. Sam opened a cabinet, then grabbed a cookbook, thumbing through the pages. A loose sheet of paper stopped him; Sam gazed at a drawing of Lynne with her arms outstretched, eyes closed, and her face like he’d never seen, as if a penance had been demanded.
Sam set down the book, then stared at the sketch; when had Eric done this, and why had it been set aside, somewhat deliberately, although Sam felt strange examining it, like he was a voyeur. The drawing had been made in haste, Sam could tell by the rough strokes of Eric’s pencil, and the paper almost seemed crumpled. He gazed at the edges, finding the beginning of a tear along one side. Then he returned to Lynne’s face, lines framing her mouth, her shoulders slumped, but her arms reminded Sam of…. He shook his head. This wasn’t similar to any previous paintings Eric had made of Lynne, although Sam knew of one that it might be like, a nude that Sam had never seen. Renee had talked about it in passing, a picture of Lynne seated on a stool when she was first pregnant with Jane. This image, however, projected little bliss.
Or the joy had come at a steep price, Sam thought. Indeed, it was more like a sacrifice offered; had Christ felt that way when hanging from the cross? Then Sam shivered. This was a similar scene, although Lynne was depicted from the waist up. Yet now that was what Sam imagined, someone giving their all for the sake of others. Maybe Eric had fashioned this as a self-portrait of sorts, maybe he hadn’t even been conscious of that notion. Or perhaps it was simply to note how much Lynne had endured over the years. As footsteps resounded, Sam cleared his throat. He set the sketch on the counter, meeting Lynne and Jane as they reentered the kitchen. “Anyone call?” Lynne asked.
Sam shook his head, taking the toddler from her mother’s arms. “All quiet here.” Then Sam gazed at Lynne, who was now looking at where Sam had been standing. Sam turned around, the sketch plainly in view.
Lynne didn’t speak, but she headed that way, and Sam followed her. Jane was unusually hushed, which made Sam wonder; did this child in any way realize the magnitude of her father’s talent, or his absence? Lynne picked up the sketch, then fingered the paper. Then she stared at Sam. “Where’d you find this?”
“I was looking for a cookbook. It was inside.” Sam again cleared his throat. “When did he do it?”
Lynne gazed at the paper. “Last Christmas Eve. I’d asked him to paint me and he drew this and….” She looked at
Sam. “I nearly ripped it up, but he took it away before I could.” She went back to studying the sketch. “I don’t know why he drew me this way, he said he didn’t know either.” Then Lynne met Sam’s gaze. “You found it in a cookbook, is that what you said?”
Sam nodded. “Thought I might make dinner for us here tonight.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Her voice was soft. “I put it in that cupboard after he did it. But I didn’t put it in a cookbook. He must have.”
“He must’ve.” Sam squeezed her shoulder. “Lynne, it’s gonna be okay.”
She nodded absently, still lost in the sketch. Then she looked up, tears in her eyes. “I asked why he did this, if he had something to tell me. He said no, or not that he knew, something like that, but his tone was like, like….” Lynne put her hand right over Sam’s heart. “Like he knew it was for something important.” Lynne removed her palm, placing it on the baby. Sam didn’t say a word.
They stood silently until the phone rang. Sam went to answer it and Lynne followed, taking Jane from his grasp. “Snyder residence,” Sam said. “Oh hi honey. Did you hear from her?”
Lynne and Jane left the room as Sam nodded, but his body felt hollow. Then he glanced at the far counter where Lynne had left the sketch. The paper seemed to glow, or maybe it was only the depth of meaning Eric had evoked in probably what had taken him mere minutes. But life changed in seconds as Sam answered that he understood all that Renee had said. And while he did comprehend her words, the significance was fuzzy, for there seemed no plausible reason why in Colorado a mother and father were dead, two little children left behind. Vivian didn’t know when she would be back, Renee added, which Sam translated into Renee temporarily taking the lead role at Dr. Howard’s office. But something else sat behind Renee’s words, that perhaps she would become the permanent office manager. As the only relation to those orphans, maybe Vivian would quit altogether, moving east or bringing them here. Renee didn’t know those details, which were sort of like the reasons Eric had drawn his wife in such a striking pose on the same day the Aherns learned Robbie Carver wasn’t meant to be their son. Sam considered that irony, then told his wife he would collect her from work, and that they would eat dinner with Lynne and Jane that night. Renee agreed to all of Sam’s proposals, then asked him to pray for Beth and Roy Hamilton. They hadn’t been Catholic, Renee whispered, and she wasn’t even sure if they’d had faith. But they were in God’s care now, Renee was certain, and Sam concurred with her. They were beyond this place, while their children had been spared.
Chapter 130