When Laurie called the Snyders that afternoon, Eric was away, but Lynne took the message, which wasn’t more than Laurie wanted to speak to Eric when he had some free time. Lynne relayed that her husband was at the Aherns’, sketching Sam and the Chevy, but that he’d call Laurie when he got home. Laurie asked Lynne how she was feeling, and they chatted briefly. Then Laurie closed the call, again thanking Lynne for her prayers. He didn’t mention Eric in that sentence, which made Lynne smile as she placed the receiver back in the cradle. Somehow even a man as free spirited as Laurie Abrams still considered religion more of a woman’s preoccupation.
Lynne pondered that as she made Jane’s lunch, then ate her own. Lynne purposefully didn’t mull over what Laurie wanted to tell Eric; it would have little bearing on a man already with one foot out the door. Since Stanford’s call, Lynne had been mentally prepared for her husband to bolt from their home, his return unknown. Hopefully Eric would be back before Christmas, but for how debilitated Seth was, Lynne wouldn’t harbor any timetables. She was feeling a little less weepy, which had been a surprise. Perhaps that initial symptom would have by now disappeared regardless of Stanford’s news. Or maybe Lynne had steeled herself for what she, Eric, Sam, and Renee knew was inevitable. Even Marek seemed aware, for he had spent considerable time with Eric after church last Sunday, and had invited the Snyders to St. Matthew’s for dinner. They had declined the invite; Eric only left their house to sketch Sam. Lynne expected that after today, Eric would have enough drawings to start that painting. But its completion wasn’t a given, at least not right now. The only tangible notions Lynne could grasp were the child clamoring for more food and the one within her stirring a mother’s nausea.
But morning sickness was also abating; Lynne felt this pregnancy was easier than how Jane’s life had started, which alleviated some of the surrounding restlessness. Eric was edgy, working non-stop on the Queens’ series during the day, then painting Lynne’s portraits in the evening once Jane was asleep. He even managed to capture their daughter at dinnertime, Jane smiling in her high chair as Eric’s food grew cold. Lynne didn’t scold him; he was attempting to juggle as many projects as was feasible, and now that included the risky venture of stepping outside the privacy of their property. Yet he hadn’t wanted to paint Sam at any other location; Eric needed to do this work in front of the Aherns’ home as if reclaiming his humanity. Lynne hadn’t argued with him about it. Actually they spoke very little, but now she had something to tell him, and she wondered how he would react concerning Laurie’s rather vague message. It was as if Laurie was again speaking in code, the way Lynne used to discern within his letters what he couldn’t write. As Jane began to quiet, Lynne prayed for two men in Florida. She didn’t bother to inquire if Eric would soon join them.
After laying down Jane for a nap, Lynne tidied the kitchen, then sat on the sofa. She closed her eyes, but even though sleep beckoned, many thoughts kept her awake. She peered around the room; a few letters had arrived and while Lynne had left them out for Eric to see, most likely they would be added to the growing pile in the office upstairs. For a few days Eric had let the mail gather on the dining table, as if he had plans to answer those notes. Then Lynne moved them all upstairs, no use for them to take up space or weigh on Eric’s mind. Lynne had considered asking if he wanted her to reply in his stead, but then she would get distracted, an item not essential. When they spoke, only necessary details were shared. When he came home today, however, she would mention it. Lynne assumed that after Eric called Laurie, there might be little time left for a husband and wife to do more than make love.
Intimacy had taken precedence when Eric wasn’t painting. If Jane was asleep, the couple was in bed, and Lynne ached, thinking about sleeping alone. Well, she wasn’t truly solitary, as a slight wave of nausea rolled through her. Then she smiled, unable to keep that joy hidden. This sojourn would be the hardest on the one absent. This time Lynne had plenty to keep her company.
She laid her palm over her belly; she wasn’t showing, but how quickly had this child muscled his or her way into Lynne’s consciousness. Perhaps that was how second pregnancies went for any woman. Lynne had been in denial when Jane had first been conceived, but now a mother relished even the unpleasant moments, although Lynne rarely vomited. And now that she wasn’t so prone to tearful outbursts, then Lynne sighed. Maybe after Eric left, those unstable eruptions would return. But if they did, those closest to her would understand. She hadn’t considered making excuses for Eric’s absence to their St. Matthew’s acquaintances. If they asked, she would tell them he was on a painting sabbatical, what she planned to tell Fran Canfield as well. Lynne didn’t ponder any more than that, no use fretting needlessly.
She closed her eyes, then drifted to sleep, dreaming of stacks of mail collecting on the table. Lynne woke to her husband’s soft voice, finding his smile as she opened her eyes. Eric looked refreshed and for a moment Lynne forgot all that swirled around them. Then she noticed wrinkles around his eyes; were they new? She stroked his cheek, which was ruddy from all the time he’d spent in the studio, and maybe from the last few days sketching Sam. Then she shivered; soon enough he’d be out in the elements. She needed to tell him about Laurie’s phone call. But first, Lynne permitted her husband’s affections.
Eric didn’t speak as he sat beside her, then wrapped her against him. Lynne closed her eyes again, feeling as if she was melting into him, he was so warm. His kisses landed along her face, then her neck, while his hands traveled along her back, gentle caresses that felt as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they were back in New York, maybe they were college students again. Lynne felt that unfettered as Eric tenderly reminded her how deep were his feelings for her. If not for Jane sleeping overhead, Lynne imagined Eric would strip the clothes both were wearing and make love to her right on the sofa.
Lynne maneuvered herself into a reclined position and Eric lay atop her, but neither attempted to undress. They necked passionately, making Lynne forget that she was expecting a second child, much less a mother already. As she made overtures for intercourse, Eric complied, but clothes still acted as a barrier. Lynne didn’t mind; they had made out in this manner when they first met, yet after he told her about turning into a hawk, she had spurned him until witnessing that event. Then they had made love, needing to seal a pact that Eric had never dreamed was possible. Lynne had fully imagined falling in love, getting married, and having a family, but Eric had never considered those possibilities.
As they continued fooling around, Lynne didn’t think about Seth and Laurie; she concentrated on the reality that had indeed come true for the man she loved. Yet, that other part of his existence, dormant for ages, was now hovering. Eric began to unbutton Lynne’s blouse, and she tried to concentrate on his actions, those of a normal human man. They were married and loved one another desperately. Eric was now quite needy and Lynne was too. If Jane stirred, Lynne chuckled inwardly, it would be Eric to head up the stairs, for he was still dressed.
But Jane remained asleep as her parents delved further into their shared passions. Eric didn’t remove his clothing, only his wife’s. Lynne accepted her husband’s generosity, wondering when she could reciprocate. Perhaps they would forgo the roles of artist and model that evening, especially after the telephone call that Lynne knew needed to take place. Maybe after speaking to Laurie, Eric would then spend the rest of the night allowing Lynne to display her emotions. Those feelings ran so deeply within her, culminating in the baby she carried. She came to that notion, weeping tears of joy and gratitude. Eric wiped her face, then lay upon her, kissing her cheeks. “I love you baby,” he whispered, brushing aside stray hairs. “Oh Lynne, I love you so much.”
She nodded, unable to speak, yet for how many more days and nights would they be able to love like this, for how long would they be separated? While she rued his expected absence, Lynne was grateful to be aware. She immediately gave thanks for such oddities, then she smiled. “When can we continue this?”
“I’d say right now,” Eric laughed, “but I know as soon as we go up those stairs, someone will hear us. Tonight, oh my God, as soon as she’s in her crib.”
Lynne giggled, then bit her lip. She wanted to tell him about Laurie’s call, but didn’t want to lose the lightness of that moment. “How did the sketching go?” she asked instead.
Eric sighed, then chuckled. “Well, I did change his pose. He put his hands in his pockets for about two seconds, which gave me just enough time to put that on paper. Better than how he’s had his arms over his chest for the last two days.”
Lynne nodded, imagining Sam making that slight adjustment, not thinking Eric would catch it. “Are you about done, with the sketching I mean?”
“Yeah. He was making noises that the next few days were gonna be busy. But that’s okay. I can start painting tomorrow, see how it goes.”
She nodded, then stroked his face. He looked aged, but maybe it was all that time in the sun. Then she began to cry, unsure if her tears were hormonal or from…. “Eric, Laurie called earlier. He wants you to call him back.”
Silence permeated the room; if Jane woke, her shouts would sound like gongs, Lynne considered. Eric didn’t blink, his eyes wide. Lynne shut hers for a moment and when she opened them, Eric had closed his. He took several deep breaths, but didn’t move away. “What did he say?” Eric asked in a somber tone.
“Just that he wanted to speak to you. That was it, so I really don’t know more than that.”
Eric nodded, then opened his eyes. He moved away from Lynne, then sat at the end of the sofa. Lynne didn’t move, as if she was posing for him; he looked at her the way he did when she was stretched over the chaise lounge, or how she used to lay on the studio couch. He didn’t meet her gaze, but all of his focus was upon her. Lynne stared at his eyes, which were wide, taking in all he possibly could.
She wondered what he was thinking; he wasn’t considering painting her portrait, far more to ponder than his craft. Was he mulling over how far he had to fly, the season ahead, or was he simply trying to maintain his humanity. Years before, when he knew a departure was imminent, he’d attempted to remain as a man by sheer force of will. He’d never found success; his alterations were beyond his capacity to control. This one was no different, but the scope would surpass any previous trip. Florida was all the way across the country and while it was summer now, maybe Lynne wouldn’t see her husband again until next spring. Their baby would have arrived; he would miss that event, not to mention how much Jane would change. Suddenly Lynne understood the weight of Eric’s regrets. He didn’t want to go, not even if it meant improving Seth’s mental health. No reason existed to appease Eric, not a single one.
Lynne leaned up, sitting on her skirt. She was completely nude, how had Eric removed all of her apparel? He had loved her so thoroughly as if he knew Laurie had called, that this disruption was imminent. Would Lynne have one more opportunity to make love with her husband? If she did, she wanted to leave him so breathless and sated that for those moments this part of his life was erased. Was that even possible, she wondered, grasping his hand, which felt cool to the touch. Maybe not even she had that ability.
“I love you.” Her tone was soft, but laced with all the fortitude she could muster. Yet, there was nothing more to add, for those three words carried the weight of all her affections. He nodded, then gripped her hand forcefully. Then he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. She blinked away tears; how precious was this man, and how human he was. He was still a human being, but for how much longer?
She didn’t consider how a lengthy absence would affect him; Sam knew what do to when Eric returned and Marek could be called in as back-up. Renee might be taking care of Lynne and a newborn, maybe. Lynne briefly mulled over those options. Then she set them aside. “Eric, lay down.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“You heard me. If Jane wakes, I’ll get her.”
He fought a smile. “You don’t have any clothes on.”
“And in a minute, neither will you. Now lay down and….” Lynne kissed him in a manner that brooked no argument. “We might not have much time,” she added, catching her breath.
How much time wasn’t broached as Eric complied with his wife’s wishes. The couple didn’t use words as Lynne displayed her affections. Jane slept through that encounter, then napped a little longer as Eric wrapped Lynne close, expending some of his grief. By the time a little girl awoke, her mother was fixing pie crust while her father sat at the patio table, studying sketches that might or might not find their way onto canvas. Lynne knew that for however long Eric remained with them, painting might fall by the wayside, unless it was a portrait of the family Eric was destined to leave behind.
Chapter 118