Page 16 of The Hawk: Part Nine


  Without a rabbi to consult, Laurie turned to the Snyders’ encyclopedias, but he found little information about Hanukkah. Memories from his childhood centered on food, gifts, and lighting the menorah, which he had decided would occur as close to sundown as possible once the Aherns and Marek had arrived. Laurie would light the shamash, which in the menorah Marek had found stood above the other candles. Then he would let someone else light that evening’s candle, maybe Paul with Sam’s help. By Hanukkah’s end, Laurie would light all eight, and he prayed that Eric would be present on that evening.

  Laurie had purchased a variety of small toys for Paul and Ann, but he’d followed Lynne’s edict for Jane; hair bows would be supplemented by a small piece of pie or a caramel slice. If the Ahern children asked about Jane’s gifts, Laurie would tell them that she wouldn’t remember. Not that Ann would, Laurie had considered, nor did he wonder if this would be his only Hanukkah spent out west. But for the first time, this holiday possessed a significant meaning to Laurie. He’d decided to read part of Psalm 91 that evening, and would read all of Psalm 100 on the last night. He’d explained to Lynne why that Psalm was special, and it had made her cry. But her tears had been accompanied by a smile, for Laurie shared that memory amid other happy recollections of his father. And that his dad would probably be rolling over in his grave that Laurie had grown so close to Lutherans and Catholics.

  A motley crew of gentiles, Marek had laughed, also present for that tale, relayed over lunch after church at St. Matthew’s. Laurie wasn’t sure when he returned to New York if his spiritual life would be satisfied merely by attending Friday night services. He joked with Marek and Lynne he might need to hunt down a Lutheran church, although he’d keep that from his mother. Rose was indeed pleased that Laurie was making the effort to celebrate Hanukkah, but she would raise her eyebrows if Laurie sought out a Christian place of worship.

  Maybe she would equate it to his relationship with Stanford, but Laurie had kept that observation to himself. Yet over the last few days Laurie had pondered how his life was set to change. Part of it was his newfound interest in faith, but the bulk centered on something he had casually mentioned to Paul not long after meeting that little boy; Laurie had decided to look for a house. Once Eric returned and was well, Laurie wanted to give the Snyders their privacy. Yet, returning to New York wasn’t a priority.

  Laurie didn’t want to go back until…. It had little to do with where Seth was, only the massive hole in Laurie’s heart. He was keeping in close contact with a few of his sculptors, but with others, Laurie had encouraged them to find a new dealer. Rose wouldn’t like this news, but Laurie couldn’t imagine living in Manhattan unless things with Stan were back to normal. And as the days passed, Laurie had grown doubtful that they could find a way to bridge this gulf. For all his optimism over Eric’s return, Laurie was deeply pessimistic about his own relationship.

  He hadn’t shared those feelings, but he wondered if Lynne could read his mind; more than once she had mentioned calling Stanford, yet the timing had never been right. Lynne slept every afternoon, usually overlapping with Jane’s naptimes. For the next eight nights, dinners at the Snyders would include others; Laurie was making latkes that evening, Sam was bringing chicken cacciatore tomorrow, and Marek had the next meal. The rest would be divvied up accordingly, but other than the occasional baking, Laurie didn’t want Lynne to worry about cooking. They had finished Christmas shopping yesterday, including a few items for Eric. Laurie didn’t contemplate what Lynne would do with those presents if her husband was still absent after the twenty-fifth. They weren’t extravagant gifts, stationary and a new sweater similar to what Laurie and Stanford exchanged. Laurie hadn’t mentioned that either. Thinking about Stan only caused heartache.

  If Laurie bought a place here, would he go so far as to move permanently, or would he use it as a getaway of sorts? He considered this while wrapping the last of Ann’s gifts. Then he walked to his bedroom window that faced the backyard; Eric’s studio and the storage building stood out starkly as trees and boysenberry vines were stripped bare. He didn’t need a showplace, merely a cottage, preferably on this side of town. He would be known as Lynne’s older brother, his accent setting him apart, also his solitary nature. He had no desire to replace Stan; Laurie couldn’t fathom ever falling in love again. It might take the rest of his life to get over losing the only one….

  He wore a wry smile, then walked back to where gifts sat on his bed. Eight for Paul, the same number for Ann, plus two small packages for Jane. He smiled at how strongly these people were now woven through him. They couldn’t take Stan’s place, but a deep bond had been fashioned, mostly due to the secret shared by the adults. Then Laurie sighed; was that why he had grown so close to Agatha, for she had kept a similar secret. He missed her, but had refrained from calling the apartment. He knew she was doing all she could, but perhaps there was nothing more to be done.

  Laurie opened his door, but the house was still; both Lynne and Jane were resting. He walked along the hallway, taking quiet steps downstairs. He added wood to the fire, then found himself staring at that one glass pane. That trip had been over six weeks in length, then Eric was away for five months. Now that length had been surpassed, but according to Seth, Eric hadn’t thought of himself as human since…. Laurie shivered, then said a prayer. He had to set aside those considerations, especially on that day. Maybe the Festival of Lights was only a legend; how could one day’s worth of oil burn for over a week? Laurie thought to his chat with Agatha about miracles. He wanted to call her, but she was already headed home. Perhaps tomorrow morning he would try the apartment; he could tell her about Jane’s first night of Hanukkah, then assure her Lynne was in good health. He wouldn’t ask about Stan; Laurie’s heart pounded simply thinking of that man. Then Laurie closed his eyes, Eric’s message from last month resounding in his head. Taking a deep breath, Laurie opened his eyes, sighing heavily. If Eric could return, Laurie would gladly give up who he loved. Uttering another prayer, he glanced toward the ceiling, where mother and daughter remained asleep. Then Laurie faced the patio, ignoring that one clear windowpane.

  As Laurie fried latkes, Marek spoke Polish to Jane while Lynne crimped the last edges of pie crust. A sweet potato pie cooled on the counter, but this of apple, peach, and boysenberry had been a special request from Sam. Once Lynne put this pie in the oven, her kitchen work would be through. Marek had offered to wash dishes and Laurie had agreed to dry. Lynne assumed Renee would fill other gaps while Sam kept an eye on the children. Lynne didn’t think past that evening; she would take each day as it came and be glad for the blessings within her midst.

  “All right, this needs about fifty minutes.” She handed the pie to Laurie, who put it in the oven as Lynne set the timer. They would have dessert after lighting the candles, but Lynne wouldn’t attach any sentiments to those lights other than gratefulness for Laurie’s presence as well as small children which at times still seemed a surprise to all of their parents. Three years ago Lynne had been relieved merely for Eric’s return; as she gazed at their daughter, happy tears welled in a mother’s eyes. Jane seemed to be speaking Polish to Marek, or at least a semblance of that tongue. It certainly wasn’t English and Lynne giggled, wiping her face. She joined that twosome, sitting next to Jane, who smiled brightly. “I wonder how many languages she’ll know one day,” Lynne said, softly caressing her child’s head.

  “She’s a smart girl, the sky’s the limit.” Marek’s eyes twinkled. “And soon enough she’ll have someone with whom to speak Polish besides me.”

  Lynne stared at her pastor, but Marek laughed, pointing to the coming baby. “Actually, Klaudia’s terrified of speaking English, although her written grasp of the language is exemplary.”

  “How’s her Polish?” Laurie asked.

  “Just fine.” Marek smiled. “I haven’t spoken it with anyone other than Miss Jane, and what a joy that was.” He said something to her and she giggled. “I hope Klaudia will take the opportunity
to put her English into practice. I certainly don’t know any Norwegian.”

  Laurie laughed. “It’s all Greek to me.”

  “Me too,” Lynne chuckled. “Makes me wish I’d kept up the French I took in high school. At least Jane and this baby will know more than one language.”

  As the adults laughed, a knock on the kitchen door heralded the Aherns’ arrival. Jane clamored to be set down and Marek obliged as handshakes and embraces were shared. Paul asked what Laurie was cooking and as Laurie gave details, Renee and Lynne went into the living room, keeping an eye on the girls, who settled near a collection of toys by the sofa. Renee looked toward the kitchen, then caught Lynne’s gaze. “Are we eating soon?” Renee asked.

  Lynne nodded. “Then we’ll light the candles. Laurie’s so excited.”

  Renee smiled. “I have to admit, we’re pretty excited too. It was all the kids could talk about this afternoon. Paul wanted to head over right after lunch, but I told him you and Jane were asleep.”

  Lynne laughed. “We were. And I’m already feeling like it’s bedtime.”

  Renee set her hand on the baby. “How are you?”

  “Just very ready to have this….” Lynne placed her hand atop Renee’s. “Boy or girl, I don’t care which. Once Christmas comes, then so can this baby.” Lynne didn’t want a premature birth, but by the end of the month, the due date would be close enough. “How’s Ritchie?”

  Renee sighed. “The doctor thinks he can be transferred to a rehab facility maybe by next week. Don’t know how they’ll pay for it, but….” Then Renee shook her head. “Not like that part matters.” Renee cleared her throat. “One of Brenda’s brothers has organized a fund for them. I guess he’s a recovering alcoholic, so maybe he’s a little less biased than the rest of us.”

  Now Lynne gripped Renee’s hands. “It’s hard to be objective.”

  “Yeah, but….” Renee hesitated, then shared Sam’s plan for the Bel Air. Lynne’s eyes went wide, then she smiled as Renee nodded. “They’ll get better use out of it than us, and now that I’m home, we really only need the Impala.”

  “So many changes,” Lynne said softly. Then she looked toward the kitchen. “And speaking of changes, maybe it’s dinnertime.”

  Renee chuckled as Laurie called for them. Mothers rounded up their daughters, then headed to the kitchen where the men were waiting.

  A cheese platter was served alongside the potato pancakes, a meal that Paul found very intriguing. During supper, Laurie explained the significance of latkes, how a small amount of olive oil kept the temple light burning for eight entire days. That conversation led into why they would light one candle that evening, right after sunset. Laurie asked Paul if he would like to do the honors. Paul glanced at Sam, who nodded. “Can Daddy help me?” Paul asked.

  “Of course.” Laurie smiled. “If everyone’s finished, we can get started.”

  Paul was the first out of his seat, followed by his sister. The rest followed into the living room, where on the dining table sat the menorah, with candles already waiting. Laurie led the Ahern youngsters to the French doors. “Looks like the sun’s set.” He knelt beside them, then smiled. “Jewish holidays begin at sundown, which is great for lighting candles.” Then he stood, extending his hands, which both children grasped with their own. Laurie led them back to the table, then motioned to Lynne’s Bible, waiting near the menorah. “I’m gonna read part of Psalm 91. Then Paul, you and your dad can light the first candle.”

  Paul smiled, then walked to where Sam stood. As Paul leaned against his father, Renee collected Ann while Jane rested in Marek’s grasp. Laurie smiled at Lynne, then he picked up the Bible, flipping to a bookmark he had placed there earlier. He cleared his throat, then began to read.

  “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, who abides in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the LORD, ‘My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.’ For he will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.” Laurie took a breath, then looked at Paul and Ann, who solemnly stared back at him. He smiled, rousing their grins. Then he continued reading. “Because he cleaves to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him my salvation.”

  Laurie had skipped several verses, but had spoken what to him was the essence of Hanukkah. That it also resonated with Eric’s absence touched all the adults, but Laurie had shared these specific verses with Lynne. He closed the Bible, placing it back on the table. Then he reached for the candle in the center of the menorah. “This’s the shamash candle. We light it first, then use it to light the rest. Sam, would you do the honors?”

  Sam nodded, taking that candle from Laurie, who lit it with a match. Then Sam handed it to Paul. “You ready?” he asked his son.

  Paul smiled, gripping the candle, then lighting the one Laurie pointed to. Then Paul carefully placed the shamash back in the center of the menorah. The lights twinkled, reminding Laurie of his childhood. He closed his eyes, said a prayer, then looked at those with whom he stood. Now Lynne toted Jane, who pointed at the menorah while Renee kissed Ann’s cheek. Sam was speaking to Paul, who then met Laurie’s gaze. “Why does Hanukkah begin at night?”

  Laurie smiled. “Because that’s what the….” He nearly said Torah, but chuckled instead. Then he gazed thoughtfully at Paul. “Well, let’s see what Lynne’s Bible says.” Laurie again picked up the Bible, going to the very front. “Jews call this book the Torah, but Genesis is the same no matter where you read it.” Laurie led Paul to the sofa and the rest followed. Once all were seated, Laurie began to read. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.” Again Laurie had omitted some verses, but as he looked at Paul, the little boy nodded his head.

  “Night turns into daytime,” Paul smiled. “That makes sense.” Then he grew somber. “What’s a Jew?”

  Now Laurie laughed. “I’m a Jew, like your parents are Catholic. It’s just another way of celebrating God.”

  Paul glanced at Sam, who nodded. Then Paul looked back at the menorah, from where a soft glow emanated. “How long will the candles burn?” he asked.

  “We’ll give them about half an hour. Then I have something for you, Ann, and Jane.”

  “You do? But it’s not Christmas yet.”

  “Hanukkah’s different than Christmas. In the meantime, maybe we can have some pie.” Laurie looked at Lynne as he spoke.

  “I’m not moving from this sofa,” she giggled. “But I’ll eat whatever someone brings me.”

  Marek stood, then was joined by Sam and Renee. “You two stay put,” Marek said. “Laurie, a piece of sweet potato?”

  “Please,” he said, grasping Lynne’s hand. “What do you want?” he asked her.

  “I’m not picky.”

  He chuckled, as now they were the only ones in the living room, Jane having been led into the kitchen by Ann. Laurie placed the Bible on the coffee table, but still held Lynne’s hand. Then he gazed at her. “I remember asking my dad that same question, why all our holidays were celebrated at night. And his answer has stayed with me all this time. He said it was because no matter how dark was the night, the day always came.” Laurie squeezed Lynne’s hand, then he stared at the menorah. “And you know, he was right.” Now Laurie looked at Lynne, a few tears falling down her cheeks. He wiped them away, then kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll call my mother tomorrow, tell her the latkes were a big hit.”

  “Will you tell her about the rest?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if she’d believe me, I mean, why should a bunch of gentiles care about Hanukkah?” He laughed as Lynne added her chuckles. “But this has been the most meaningful Hanukkah I’ve ever celebrated.”
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  “I don’t think it’ll be our last,” Lynne said, motioning at the menorah. “Marek told me to keep it here. I need to find a proper place for it.”

  “Maybe I’ll tell my mother you’re thinking of converting.”

  “Would she believe you?” Lynne smiled.

  “Nah, but I’m sure she appreciates….” He stood, then walked to where the candles flickered. “Dad always looked at life as why not? Why not give a three-year-old chocolate cake, why not find the good in any given situation.” Laurie turned around. “I have no idea what he’d have thought about me and Stan, but maybe eventually, he’d have understood.”

  “Maybe I’ll try calling Stanford again.” Lynne’s tone was soft.

  “Well, I was gonna call Agatha in the morning. I’ll call her, you try him and we’ll see what happens.”

  Laurie walked back to the sofa, then sat beside Lynne, embracing her. As they separated, Renee brought each a slice of pie, sweet potato for Laurie, apple-peach-boysenberry for Lynne. Laurie savored his while gazing at the glowing candles, his father’s hopeful voice a balm upon Laurie’s weary soul.

  Chapter 173