The Hawk: Part Three

  Three days before Thanksgiving Lynne woke to familiar sounds that only last year had struck fear into her heart. She got out of bed as Eric raced from their room. She followed, but didn’t take the stairs. Instead she gripped the railing, waiting on the landing until he had opened the French doors. A cold wind forced her downstairs, but she didn’t go outside. She closed the doors, glanced at the darkness, then caressed her baby. “Daddy’ll be back soon,” she whispered, certainty in her voice.

  Later that morning she called Sam, who inquired if she wanted company. She declined, but asked if she could join them for dinner. Sam said she was welcome to spend every evening with them, but Lynne hedged, and Sam didn’t press. He did offer to make custard, in exchange for pie. Lynne smiled, agreeing to the deal. It would give her something to do on that first day of another of Eric’s sojourns.

  When Lynne arrived at the Aherns, Sam was preparing dinner. The women sat in the living room, where lit candles waited. Lynne hadn’t yet decided if she wanted to become Catholic, but since the middle of the month, her heart had been leaning toward some sort of spiritual home. She had spoken about it with Eric, who didn’t acknowledge the same call, but he was happy for her, and for what she and Renee had shared while he told Sam what was probably going to happen. Now that event had occurred, but Lynne’s soul wasn’t overly troubled. She wasn’t sure how Eric felt; the last two days he had been painting from morning until the last rays of light. They hadn’t spoken about his impending absence; all Lynne had done was pose for her husband, then made love with him. But his cries, as he’d fled the house, reverberated in Lynne’s head; they weren’t at all peaceful, and as she and Renee relaxed on the sofa, Lynne felt an irresistible need to intercede for Eric. She used words that conveyed her heart, not necessarily in line with Catholic liturgy. She prayed for his safety in the air, for his peace of mind, and for his timely return. And if that homecoming was before she had their baby, all the better it would be.

  Sometimes Renee gripped Lynne’s hand, sometimes the women weren’t aware of the other. Lynne hadn’t realized that Renee had gone to her knees until Sam softly called their names. Lynne looked at him, then noted that Renee no longer sat beside her. Then Lynne saw her friend on the other side of the coffee table, still meditating. Renee didn’t face them until she was finished, by which time Sam had helped Lynne from the sofa. Renee smiled in their direction, then leaned toward the table, blowing out the candles. Then Sam offered his assistance, and she stood. All three walked into the kitchen, where dinner was waiting.

  Little was said during the meal; Lynne didn’t wish to speak about Eric, Sam didn’t want to talk about Seth, and Renee felt that Lynne’s budding faith needed to stay veiled. All commented on the food; again Sam had outdone his previous efforts with pork chops. He had another chicken recipe to try, but with turkey looming, he would wait until next week. Lynne laughed that she would never tire of Sam’s efforts, and he smiled, noting he felt the same about her pie. Renee chuckled, that she had the best of both worlds, and the meal ended on a happy note, as if all their sorrows didn’t exist.

  It wasn’t until Lynne prepared to leave that a cloud descended. Sam asked if she wanted to stay there, the guest room was ready. Lynne looked around the room, then she stopped at the blue barn. Perhaps Eric had found shelter in such a building; she didn’t want to think of him flying in the cold. Purposely he had departed, even in this frigid weather, and where he was going, be it to see his father or further east, was even colder. She stepped toward the painting, not looking at the mice or the barnyard, just at that edifice. Then she glanced at Sam, who gripped Renee’s hand. The barn and his eyes were the exact same hue, and Lynne blinked away tears. “I’ll just go home tonight.” Then she cleared her throat. “Not that he’ll be back, but it’s where I belong.”

  The house would be chilly, and it was much larger than last time. But the baby had been conceived somewhere on that property, within Lynne’s home. She smiled, then rejoined her hosts. She grasped their hands, then took a deep breath. “Maybe on Thanksgiving I’ll stay over, but tonight, I need to be there.”

  Sam nodded as Renee sniffled. Lynne squeezed Renee’s hand again, as Sam retrieved Lynne’s coat. He helped her into it, then walked her to the car. She drove away, not thinking about how cool and vast the house would seem. She wasn’t alone this time, and she spoke aloud about Eric during the entire drive; soon, she told the baby, Daddy would be there with them.

  On Thanksgiving, Lynne received a phone call from Stanford, wishing her and Eric a lovely holiday. She asked about Seth, but the news was the same. He wasn’t well enough yet to travel east, but as soon as he was, Minneapolis was his destination.

  Lynne relayed that to Sam and Renee, then Sam took a call from Laurie, who sent his regards to all. Lynne was glad Laurie had reached out in that manner, yet Sam and Renee didn’t seem aware of the men’s connection. Lynne did wonder if either Stanford or Laurie had wanted to speak to Eric; Lynne wasn’t sure what she would do when that happened, for eventually Stanford would request a moment with his client. Sam brought it up, after ending the call with Laurie. What did Lynne want him to say, if either art dealer asked about Eric?

  “I don’t know.” She sighed, then leaned back, patting her belly. “Any ideas?”

  She smiled as Renee and Sam both shrugged. This time last year all three had been despondent about Eric’s absence. This year, the biggest challenge was how to explain it to the New Yorkers, how Sam still referred to the men. But his voice had been light, and Lynne had nodded, wanting to preserve their privacy as well as her own. Yet Seth had known something, she was certain, and she ruminated over that as silence fell over the dining table. That one figurine had the same deformity that Eric used to possess. With her newfound faith, Lynne couldn’t discount what Seth had sculpted, even if it was years ago. If Eric was on his way east, he might not be back for months, and ultimately Stanford would want an explanation.

  “You know what? Let Stanford bring it up, because he will, one of these days.” Sam took another bite, then spoke with his mouth full. “Depending on when it is, and it probably won’t be long, you can tell him Eric’s on another retreat. That he wanted to go now, before Christmas and the baby. Stanford’s pretty reserved,” Sam smiled. “You put it like that, and I bet he won’t ask anything else.”

  Lynne nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  “But what about Laurie?” Renee also had another bite, but she swallowed before speaking. “He’s not as….” She giggled. “He’s not at all like Stanford Taylor.”

  “You know, those two.” Sam shook his head. “Like oil and water, I mean, in their bearings. I have no idea how they stay friends, other than they work in the same circles. But you know the saying, opposites attract. I suppose that goes for friends as well as spouses.”

  Lynne kept a straight face. “I suppose you’re right.” Then she sipped her water. “And in the meantime, I also think you’re correct about letting Stanford bring it up. I’ll just tell him Eric needed some down time. There really isn’t much more to say.”

  There wasn’t, on any of the subjects, although a strong kick against Lynne’s spine made her flinch, and brought Sam to laughter. “Well, I think someone would disagree with us.”

  “She seems to think so too.” Lynne smiled, then stood from her chair. She walked around, as the baby did somersaults, but all those movements were what Lynne had been feeling for the last month. A fetus had no idea who was missing, or who loved who. Lynne stepped to where Sam sat, and she gingerly laid his hand upon the baby. Sam had yet to feel anything, and he grew silent, pressing his palm where Lynne had directed.

  Then Renee set her hand on Lynne, who closed her eyes. Their prayers coursed through her, and she could almost sense the purpose, that one little child wouldn’t realize a voice was absent. Lynne remained in that position until another sharp kick made her jump. Then all three laughed, as Sam stood, embracing her.

  December began with rain and wi
nd, but Lynne went out as often as she felt necessary, to buy groceries and Christmas presents. Renee came over when she wasn’t working, and they began to sew crib bedding; Lynne had chosen green and yellow, not wishing to saddle a boy or girl with the expected hues. Sam purchased two Christmas trees, and Lynne decorated hers with lights and baubles used at this time last year. Yet by now, Eric had not only returned, but was nearly human again. She did ponder that fact as she joined the Aherns at church, or when Stanford called, not asking to speak to Eric, just wondering how they were. They meant a husband and wife, but Lynne took it as her and the baby. Before, Lynne would have put Eric on the phone within a minute, but this time she made small talk with Stanford, sometimes chatting with Laurie, who also avoided mentioning Eric. Not until the middle of the month did Stanford skip over his words, but Lynne didn’t mind. He was showing great restraint, and she let the break in the conversation pass without comment. When he said goodbye, Stanford’s tone was especially kind, and Lynne wondered if Laurie had been listening, and was now giving Stanford an earful.

  Lynne wrapped presents for Eric; new clothes and books, some stationary. They gave each other practical gifts, although years ago he had bought her jewelry, but nothing ostentatious. Lynne hadn’t worn those pieces in ages, simple opal pendants and earrings that rested in her upper drawer.

  She had saved them, but for no apparent reason, certainly not to give to her children. Then she smiled, patting her belly. “Perhaps they are for you,” she said. “Maybe I should see if they’re still in good condition.”

  She took the stairs, humming a Christmas carol. Unlike last year, Lynne slept in her bed, which seemed large, but it was a queen mattress. She opened her top dresser drawer, then moved aside underwear, revealing several small boxes bought at the local department store. She didn’t know how Eric had afforded these gifts, for they had saved every penny to buy the house, or to purchase painting supplies. But somehow he had socked away enough to give her these trinkets, what she had thought of them when first opening the boxes.

  The chains were flimsy, one of the reasons she had stopped wearing them. The earrings had also been cheap, but the stones glittered in the light, various shades of blue opals flecked with yellow sparkles. Lynne fought tears but lost, the first time since Eric had left that she ached for him. Not even at night had she been troubled, praying before she drifted off to sleep that he was safe, and whomever he was with was benefitting from his presence. At times she felt like a different person from last year; she wasn’t bitter or devastatingly lonely. Now she had the baby for company, but the man who had scrimped, probably on his supplies, to buy her these gifts wasn’t there to hold her, or tell their daughter or son just how much their mother had been delighted with these simple treasures.

  Lynne dangled one pendant, the first one if her memory was correct, then she smiled as the stone sparkled in the light. Unhooking the clasp, she placed it around her neck, fastening it. Then she gazed at the opal. Dangling from a long chain, the stone lay flat along her sweater, reaching the beginning of her bosom. Previously she had worn it under her blouses, for while the opal was pretty, the chain was not. Yet now it held a different significance; one day she would give it to a daughter, or perhaps a granddaughter. It carried deep value, which she accepted was exacerbated by Eric’s absence. But even if he was here, she still would want to keep it safe, for she would have descendants. Lynne smiled, deciding to wear the necklace until Eric returned, and maybe beyond that. Gazing at her reflection, she admired the opal, even the chain. She would wear it until that necklace broke, then ask Eric for a new chain.

  After inspecting all the pieces, she went back downstairs, stoking the fire. Sam replenished the hearth every time he visited, and she rarely needed to step out for more wood. Her cupboards were filled with canned goods; when Eric returned, Lynne wouldn’t need to run out for more than milk and perishables. Then she tutted herself; Sam would do the shopping, unless the day was exceptionally balmy. And depending on how long Eric was gone, she might be so cumbersome that even driving to the market would be difficult. Lynne gazed at the fire, then to her middle. The baby was visible, but wasn’t being depicted on canvas. There would be a break in the series, or maybe no further pictures would be created.

  She stepped into the sunroom, the fading afternoon light casting long shadows. But Lynne didn’t mind, for the room was warm, the fireplace providing plenty of heat. If Eric was there, she would probably be lying on the chaise lounge, most likely undressed, posing for him. Canvases waited on easels, and all were finished paintings. But now three weeks had passed, Christmas was eleven days away. She was still spending Christmas Eve with the Aherns, joining them for midnight mass. But instead of Lynne hosting Christmas dinner, Sam would do the cooking. Lynne would even wake at their home that morning, no use to stay here by herself that night.

  She turned to see the tree, on the far side of the living room. Early in November, she and Eric had discussed where it would go, nowhere near the fireplace, both had agreed. It stood near the large windows, and was covered in colored lights that Lynne left on all day. She could just make out the presents underneath, all carefully wrapped and labeled. Each one was for Eric.

  Lynne had no idea if he had gone shopping for her before he left. He never mentioned it, other issues on his mind. Was he heading for Vermont? She shivered, then stepped to where the tree sparkled, much like the opal resting against her chest. She inspected the ornaments, some she had made when they were first married and so…. They had been poor, no doubt, and he hadn’t assumed his paintings would fetch more than enough to cover his supplies. How had he saved to buy her the jewelry, how had he….

  She took a deep breath, not wishing to fall into sorrow. It wasn’t good for the baby, she felt, and she gently patted that bulge, which seemed to have increased over the last week. Renee had discreetly asked if Lynne needed larger maternity clothes. Not that the blouses and slacks she wore were tight, just that suddenly the baby had undergone a growth spurt. Had Renee been tactful as not to remind Lynne that these days weren’t being documented?

  But somehow they were, if only in a mother’s consciousness. Lynne fingered the pendant, then the aged chain. When Eric returned, he would smile, seeing that piece around her neck. It would bridge the gap in the series, no matter how large it loomed. And if when he came home the baby was already born, Lynne would tell him how wearing that necklace had reminded her of all the blessings she possessed; his baby, and now again her husband. Eric would come home, she assured herself and their child. “Daddy won’t be gone forever.”

  A soft kick was the fetus’ reply. Lynne inhaled deeply, smoothing her sweater over her child, hers and Eric’s. They had finally gotten pregnant; he would come back to her, and their offspring.

  Chapter 43