One week had passed since the Snyders’ return. In that time, Seth had made overtures that he wished to stay longer in Miami, greatly pleasing his Aunt Sheila while worrying his mother and Aunt Rose. Laurie had let Seth’s latest decision pass without public comment and there was very little Laurie needed to say to Stanford. Laurie did write to his cousin, detailing the highlights of Eric, Lynne, and Jane’s visit, noting the Queens’ sketches, wondering if Seth’s artistic side might be piqued. Closing the letter, Laurie told Seth how much he loved him and not to come back with a Florida-born wife. While Laurie wasn’t thrilled by Seth’s continued absence, the lingering effects of the Snyders’ stay filled Laurie with a strange hope. He chalked it up to the coming baby, about which only he, Stanford, and Agatha were aware.
Yet, on the West Coast, one other knew of that blessing, and Dr. Salters had pronounced a mid-January due date for the second Snyder child. Lynne had seen her doctor the second day she was home and by the end of the week blood tests had confirmed what parents well knew. Lynne was sick in the mornings, sleepy for much of the day, and quite emotional, yet those symptoms had been concealed from the family’s pastor, as well as from Sam and Renee. Lynne wasn’t sure for how much longer she could keep the news under wraps, but neither she nor Eric felt the timing was right to tell the Aherns. Renee had joined Sam for a brief visit on Friday while Jane was napping. The women had shared copious tears and Eric felt the reason for Lynne’s excessive outburst had remained secret. The two couples hadn’t paired off during the Aherns’ stay, for it was simply to welcome home the Snyders, and to begin a form of healing for Renee. Eric learned that on Saturday, when the men bumped into each other at the market. While Sam didn’t get into specifics, Eric gleaned that a breakthrough of sorts had occurred, at least concerning the Snyders. Although, Sam had gently sighed, he wasn’t sure when Renee might be ready to see Jane.
That girl was a popular figure at St. Matthew’s the following day and a dinner date was set for Thursday between Marek and some of his favorite parishioners, he smiled. Lynne had started to cry, but her tears were of a happy sort, their homecoming now complete. Eric hadn’t realized how much he’d missed their usual routine until that Sunday at church. Once Renee had interacted with Jane, then perhaps life at home would be fully restored. But as a new week began, Eric would let that last step proceed as nature dictated. He hadn’t mentioned to Sam their upcoming project, only that the garden needed his attention as well as catching up on all the correspondence that now rested upon spare card tables in the Snyders’ living room.
The letters were separated into three categories, those with no return address, those with a legible address, and those in which Eric couldn’t decipher the origin. He would answer all the notes possible, and when Marek came for dinner, Eric would seek his assistance in translating those notes not in English, of which there were a fair number. But Eric could discern most of the mail and what he had found time to read touched him deeply. It also made him ache to work on the Queens’ sketches, but first, Eric had started to paint Lynne’s portrait.
Perhaps having been away from his oils and canvases had been good, for now Eric’s gift was being put to use at any spare moment. If Jane was sleeping, Eric and Lynne used the sunroom. If the baby was awake, the family trekked to the studio, the days warm and growing longer. Lynne didn’t mind that Eric spent much of the early evenings outside and on some of those nights she joined him, sitting on the stool with Jane in her arms while yet upon another blank canvas was created vibrantly colored life. As Lynne had hoped, Eric used bright shades in depicting his now expanding family and he said these same colors would continue in the Queens’ paintings. Maybe spring had enhanced a painter’s mindset, for the garden was lush, from leafy trees and boysenberry vines to lumpy grass-laden sod and a vast array of tulips waving in soft breezes. So many notions had accumulated, from friends to nature, welcoming a family home.
But it was at night when parents felt they truly had returned to their nest, once the house was locked, their daughter fast asleep. Eric then displayed to his wife how happy he was to be back within their residence, especially in their bedroom. Lynne usually fell asleep right after the couple made love, but Eric didn’t slip away to work; instead he watched her, sometimes brushing stray hairs from her face. He didn’t consider these moments were being stored up for later, he only pondered how wonderful was their life and how grateful he was to be cognizant of that fact. Much awaited outside their room, like telling their best friends about the baby, all the correspondence, and how many paintings Eric wished to begin. But most important was the woman beside him, the baby within her, and the child across the hall. When Eric fell asleep, he dreamed of those people as if not possessing enough conscious time to consider his treasures.
On Tuesday, Eric spent the early morning answering mail. He wanted to use the best light for painting, but so many letters waited, he felt guilty if not replying to at least a few. Lynne had told him not to worry about them, but Eric felt obligated to those with easily readable return addresses. He wrote ten notes, then his hand began to cramp. He smiled, stood from the table, then found his wife and daughter in the kitchen. Jane was in her high chair gnawing on apple slices while Lynne sat near her. Eric joined them, grasping his wife’s hand. So many emotions bubbled inside him, then he sighed. “There aren’t enough hours in the day for everything I wanna accomplish. What would you think if I hired a gardener?”
Lynne laughed. “If you find one that comes with a housekeeper, you’re on.” She gazed around the room. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that Renee and Sam did all that cleaning.” Then Lynne sniffled, reaching for a tissue in her apron pocket. She wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. “Oh my goodness,” she then chuckled. “This’s ridiculous.”
“Gonna be a long soppy pregnancy.” Eric smiled, kissing her damp cheek. He took a deep breath, then let it out. “So we’ll tell Marek on Thursday. When do you wanna tell….”
Before he could finish, Lynne shrugged, then started to weep. She leaned against Eric’s shoulder and he embraced her, all the while being stared at by Jane. She didn’t join in her mother’s tears, then grew bored, returning to her piece of apple. Eric smiled at both females, wondering how the next seven and a half months would proceed.
He imagined it might be much like this, with Jane not being bothered at her mother’s outbursts as long as food, drink, playtime, and naps were included. And hours spent posing, although Jane had squirmed in Lynne’s grasp. That task might take longer for Jane to reacclimatize to, but Eric wasn’t worried. He could sketch her on the run, then paint her later. Or maybe she would be happy to sit with her Uncle Marek, or her godparents. Or at least her godfather, and Eric sighed again. Unless the Aherns came over that night or tomorrow, Marek would be told about the baby before them.
As Lynne composed herself, Eric released her, feeling a strong paternal sensation. It was deeper than what he’d experienced when Lynne carried Jane, maybe it would increase with every child. Eric smiled at himself; how blessed were they to have one daughter, and now maybe two? Eric hadn’t considered a son, even for how emotional was his wife. But Eric didn’t ponder that issue. Instead he gave Jane another piece of apple, handing his wife a napkin. Her tissue had been balled up and placed on the table, making Eric wonder if he should invest in paper products. Lynne might go through a forest by the time January came.
While Lynne again blew her nose, Eric inhaled the sweetness of home; last month had shown him new and unique experiences, yet how good was it to be in this house, how wonderful was their simple life. Then he smiled at himself; needing a gardener, and maybe even a housekeeper, denoted a distinct change for the Snyders. Then a small shiver crept up Eric’s spine. Perhaps they could manage without help. Eric hadn’t changed form in well over a year and a half, but he couldn’t discount the possibility.
Now he sighed in weariness. Lynne looked his way, her red eyes attentive to his change in mood. “What?” she asked, caressing
his face. “Eric, are you all right?”
He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of having forgotten a part of his existence that could never be omitted. For a few moments they were like any other family, well, a family that could afford such luxuries. Yes, they were indeed blessed, but it was balanced by a secret that while known by a few needed to remain concealed. In no way could Eric risk exposing that element of his life, and how fortunate that during the home renovations nothing had occurred. He leaned back in his chair, gripping Lynne’s hand. “I just realized how absurd is the idea of having a gardener or a cleaning lady.” He grimaced, then released Lynne’s hand. “Sometimes I forget, you know, like it doesn’t happen anymore, like it won’t ever occur again.” He stood, feeling slightly shamed. Then he looked at his wife. “I can’t count on it not and the last thing we need is someone here who’d….” Now Eric laughed. “They’d run away screaming, but eventually come back with a posse. We’d never have any peace.”
Eric could envision such a disturbance, like witch hunts from medieval times. No walls would be high enough, and the safety of his family was paramount. He walked to the kitchen doorway, gazing at the stacks of letters. People from Europe had found him, he wasn’t anonymous. Was that a mistake? Perhaps he should have remained unidentified. Now it was too late, unless he and Lynne moved to a deserted island. Those who loved them would understand, even Stanford and Laurie. But no one could live alone, bringing Seth to Eric’s mind. Maybe for now he was better off in Florida. Those people were objective compared to his family in Brooklyn.
Never having possessed relatives other than his wife, Eric hadn’t worried about being discovered. And maybe all this fretting was for nothing, for it had been ages since Eric had changed into a hawk. But now he needed to take care, for while his pastor knew, and the Aherns, the public needed to remain ignorant. That public wasn’t merely fans of his work, but the average local who spotted him at the market, their friends at St. Matthew’s, even those related to Sam and Renee. How would Lynne explain to Fran and Louie, or to Joan and Russell? How could any of it be understood?
Eric sighed again, but as he exhaled, Lynne grasped his hand. “I love you. So far we’ve managed to keep you under the radar.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but now everything’s different.”
“It is, but not for the worse. We have people in our life, family we never expected.” Lynne placed his hand on her flat belly. “Someday we’ll have to tell Jane and this baby. And if someday we need to inform others, we’ll find a way to do so delicately.”
Eric looked at her. “Delicately huh? That’s a funny way to put it.”
“How else could you tell Stanford?” Lynne wore a sly grin. “Not that I can think of any situation where he’d need to know, but maybe. In the meantime, you’re right about hired help.” Lynne giggled. “It was a nice idea though.”
“Yeah, it was.” Eric shrugged, then smiled. “You’re gonna be so busy, how will I find time to paint you?”
He placed his other hand between her breasts, then set both of his hands on her hips, making her giggle again. The kiss began as she grew still, and they only broke apart due to Jane’s squawking.
They laughed, turning her way, finding her banging on an empty tray. Lynne set another piece of apple in front of the toddler, then returned to her husband’s embrace, only leaving Eric’s arms when Jane hollered for more food.
Chapter 110