The Hawk: Part Four

  On Friday evening the Snyders, Aherns, and two New Yorkers were treated to dinner at St. Matthew’s courtesy of Pastor Jagucki. The fare wasn’t Polish, but English; roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes and an assortment of mixed vegetables with Brussels sprouts dominating. Sam asked for the recipe to the puddings, which were of the large variety, nearly six inches in diameter, and filled with delicious savory gravy. Marek said he would make copies for anyone interested and Laurie inquired as well, on Stanford’s behalf. Agatha Morris would hear this meal requested every time Stanford entertained.

  Supper was devoured amid jovial chatter, most of it in English, although Marek spoke Polish to Jane. Often she was in his arms, or in Laurie’s, as those men were seated next to each other with Stanford between Eric and Sam. Lynne and Renee were on the other end, but a common thread wound between the conversations, the buzz of excitement for that evening’s activity. Jane would be watched by Mrs. Kenny, St. Matthew’s secretary, until Lynne needed to feed her baby, or if the glare from the local public grew too bothersome. Many of the paintings were nudes and while Lynne didn’t mind their inclusion, how they were accepted was beyond her control.

  None from this series had ever been shown other than to family. Lynne gazed at those gathered in the church kitchen, finding all of these people were now related to her. She smiled as Marek handed Jane to Laurie while Eric and Stanford chatted with Sam. Only Renee was quiet, but Lynne knew part of that was Renee’s eagerness to hold Jane, yet Laurie would be gone on Monday. Lynne patted Renee’s leg and the women shared wide smiles. Renee felt as Lynne did, that Laurie would make a wonderful father. Yet, he seemed very happy in his role as uncle, as did the pastor. Marek never referred to himself as Jane’s uncle, but from how tenderly he spoke to her, in a tongue none of them understood, love was the underlying sentiment. It didn’t matter what Marek said to Jane; all Lynne heard was earnest affection.

  Marek then apologized for the absence of dessert, but a part of that was due to the shortage of time. The show was slated to start at seven, but this group needed to be at the library by half past six. It was now five thirty and as Marek stood, gathering plates, Lynne and Renee went to their feet. “No, you ladies sit right back down. This’s the least I can do for cajoling Eric to share his incredible art with those of us unable to travel to New York City.”

  Renee didn’t sit and Lynne smiled. What tussle of wills might emerge between the Polish pastor and a fiery redhead? “Pastor Jagucki, over my dead body will you clear this table alone,” Renee huffed.

  Sam laughed. “Now you’ve done it, Pastor.”

  Marek smiled. “Mrs. Ahern, as Christ washed his disciples’ feet, please allow me to put these dishes in the sink.”

  Renee’s jaw went slack and she humbly nodded, retaking her chair. But Eric stood, rolling up his shirtsleeves. “And then as Peter said to Christ, wash all of me Lord.” Eric gathered his plate, Stanford’s, and Sam’s while Marek laughed loudly, shaking his head.

  Sam joined them and quickly the table was cleared. As Sam started the dishes, Laurie handed Jane to Renee, then went to assist. Renee was placated and she leaned back in her seat, cooing to her godchild. Eric returned to the table, speaking with Stanford as Marek put away the leftovers. Lynne was struck by the altered dynamics, although that Stanford didn’t move a muscle was expected. Yet Marek had facilitated the women’s exclusion from what were their standard tasks. Lynne met his gaze and his grin was telling. Then he winked at her as Sam and Laurie seemed caught up in the washing and rinsing. Marek told them not to worry about the drying; the dishes could sit overnight. Sam wouldn’t hear of it, telling Eric to get off his duff. Then Laurie said the same to Stanford and Lynne had to bite her lip as that man truculently stood, a dishcloth thrust into his unpracticed hands.

  While Renee cradled Jane, Lynne considered that evening’s activity. The paintings would be exhibited for two weeks, but Stanford and Eric had discussed a European show, possibly for next spring. Stanford had been surprised that Eric was willing to part with many of the nudes, but Stanford hadn’t spoken about it with Lynne. Yet she truly didn’t care, for other than the one of her seated with arms outstretched, those depictions were of another woman. Her life as Jane’s mother had thoroughly altered Lynne to the point that unless a particular canvas meant something to Eric, all of them could be scattered to the winds. Only Renee had asked Lynne, discreetly of course, why she felt as she did. Lynne had smiled, then clutched Renee’s hands. Those paintings had been a way for Eric to express his love and to assist Lynne in accepting those affections. Then Jane had been conceived and Lynne hadn’t been able to continue speaking, not for herself or for Renee. The women had brushed away tears and Renee had nodded, but her smile shone, for since that conversation, the Aherns had begun to seriously investigate adoption. And much to Lynne’s joy, they had also spoken to Stanford about selling the painting of the three hawks. It would be offered alongside the nudes in a brief New York exhibition before the canvases were shipped to London. Stanford had told Sam that he expected those hawks to fetch at least what the nudes would earn, a rare chance for a collector to snap up one of Eric’s earlier pieces. And that it was of hawks made it even more valuable, for among those who most coveted Eric’s work, hawks now commanded top prices.

  Lynne never thought about the money. While she had teased Eric that baby clothes weren’t cheap, that wasn’t the impetus behind selling the nudes; they simply didn’t need to keep them. Lynne was privy to the idea Eric still wished to explore, but that series would be too precious to sell, and they did need to eat. Eric itched to start painting the sketch of Marek and Jane, plus he wanted to coax Laurie and Stanford into a sitting, if time permitted, before they left. Too many lovely moments of those men with Jane had convinced Eric to try to get them to pose, even for a rough sketch. Laurie wouldn’t balk, but Stanford might, yet, Lynne had found him enamored of a little girl who smeared his glasses, drooled on his shoulder, and laughed in his arms. Plus Eric had complained of not painting Renee and Jane lately, but he never mentioned Sam and Jane. Lynne wondered just how long Sam could avoid becoming one of Eric’s subjects.

  She had managed for years, even as the artist’s wife. But as that artist’s wife, Lynne hadn’t been able to say no forever, and she imagined that eventually Sam would allow Eric to start a series that would never be for sale. It wouldn’t sit in their storage shed either, but be sent on a world tour, needing to be seen by as many as possible. And for that series alone, Lynne would permit the sale of the nudes. If Sam would ever give his consent, Lynne might even consider parting with her favorite canvas.

  But she knew that wouldn’t be necessary; there were paintings aplenty for those interested. Eric had been prolific last year; more nudes of Lynne existed than were needed, but not all were waiting in the library. The first few would never be shown publically, the intensity of the couple’s love requiring discretion. Stanford had been pleased with those chosen for this local show, almost a teaser for what would be sent to New York and onwards. Lynne’s favorite would accompany and continue on to Europe, but only to be admired. The orchard in spring was going too and like that of Lynne on the stool, it would find its way back home, although while it would return to its place in their living room, that painting of Lynne would probably dwell in the storage building. Lynne smiled, thinking of what tonight’s reaction would entail. For years she had worked as a nurse, cloaked in a white dress, hat, and stockings. But another side of that same woman would serve notice that uniforms were often deceiving.

  Then Lynne winced as Marek joked with Laurie and Stanford that they made a surprisingly adept team. Laurie laughed, but Stanford rolled his eyes. The pastor probably thought Stanford’s contempt was solely related to where he stood, at the end of an all-male line of dishwashers. Did Marek have any idea of the New Yorkers’ true connection? It hadn’t taken Lynne very long to discern it, although the Aherns hadn’t been aware until much later. But Marek was a European and while h
e was also a clergyman, perhaps his past permitted greater opportunities of love. Lynne thought it sad that Marek was alone, wondering if he had left a girlfriend in England, or maybe even in Poland. She had told her husband that if Marek ever revealed what had happened to his family, she didn’t want to know. All sorts of inhumane atrocities had been perpetrated, and not only to Jews; nearly a fifth of Poland’s population had been killed.

  Yet, to see him now, one would never guess Marek had lost not only his immediate kin, but the entire extended clan as well. Eric had promised that he wouldn’t share those details and Lynne expected he was still ignorant, for she never saw any secrets between only her husband and their pastor. Other confidences swirled within St. Matthew’s kitchen, but not those facts.

  As Jane began to squawk, Lynne smiled, then grimaced, as her milk came in. Renee handed over the baby and Lynne stood, catching Eric’s grin. Better to feed Jane now than have her crying in another hour. Lynne stepped from the kitchen as Marek said she was welcome to use the small church library, just to the left. Renee followed and turned on the light for Lynne, who immediately sat down, putting Jane right where she wanted to be. Renee didn’t stay, but soon Eric joined his family. “You need anything?” he asked.

  Lynne shook her head, a great warmth coursing through her. She had fallen in love with this church mostly due to the endearing pastor, but also in how much this place meant to Eric. He smiled, kneeling beside her, stroking their daughter’s wild strip of brown hair. Her curls were unruly and the hair along the sides of her head was starting to thicken. She was trying to hitch and once she was on all fours, no longer would she be rubbing off the hair near her ears.

  “We don’t have to leave until she’s ready,” Eric smiled. “Marek and Sam can take Stanford and Laurie over there. I’ll show up whenever Jane’s done.”

  Lynne giggled. “Now that wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Well, this isn’t New York.”

  “No, I suppose not. But don’t wait on our account. Renee can bring us over in their car.”

  “Absolutely not. I won’t enter that library without my favorite ladies.”

  Jane moved away from Lynne’s chest, staring at her father. She smiled, then chuckled, then acted as if she was finished. Lynne tried to entice her to return to nursing, but Jane seemed to have only needed a little snack, what Eric said as he stood. “We don’t have to leave for another fifteen minutes. I’ll be back in a few, see if she’s really done.”

  Lynne nodded as Jane laughed, then burped. She didn’t seem to want anymore and as Eric stepped away, Lynne stroked her daughter’s soft cheek. Jane only wanted to be held and when Eric returned, both Snyder females were ready to depart for the exhibit.

  Two and a half hours later, Lynne sat with her baby in one of the library’s smaller conference rooms. Mrs. Kenny had been sent home, for now Jane was indeed hungry, and Lynne hadn’t needed to remain at Eric’s side. The crowds had been bigger than any of them had considered, traveling from larger cities a few hours away. Some lamented that none of the canvases were for sale, but Stanford had been adamant; he wanted Eric’s work to receive the maximum prices, which would only happen in New York. Yet, many people were content to finally see Eric’s output, or a smattering of his endeavors. The blue barn was the main focus, until a patron reached the collection of nudes. Then a thoughtful hush was encountered, in part for the honesty Eric had painted, and that the model was right in the room. Lynne didn’t make eye contact with anyone except her family, but she felt many gazes upon her. When Mrs. Kenny came her way, noting that Jane needed her mother, Lynne was happy to leave the makeshift gallery. That had been twenty minutes ago and Jane showed no signs of relinquishing Lynne to the waiting crowds.

  Eric and Pastor Jagucki had arranged the canvases in order of completion, the blue barn and the three hawks some of the first to be seen. The nudes had been last, with many Ahern and Nolan family portraits sandwiched between, including the one of Lynne and Renee in their nursing uniforms. Eric had asked the women’s permission and both had acquiesced, but Lynne’s appearance as a starchily dressed health professional had only made the nudes more captivating, and somewhat scandalous. And shocking they were, for Eric hadn’t concealed his wife’s beauty, nor his love for her. Her portrait on the stool garnered the most attention, for she looked nothing like the woman in that white dress and cap, her brown hair hidden, a no-nonsense look on her face. In the nude, that hair flowed past her shoulders, Lynne’s smile wide and free. Her closed eyes invited the viewer to wonder what secret she was keeping, for despite her far-flung arms, a great mystery remained, and few within the crowds realized it was the couple’s infant daughter to elicit such bliss. But then, Lynne had smiled to herself, at the time she hadn’t been aware either.

  When Mrs. Kenny approached Lynne, Jane wailing in the secretary’s arms, a mother had been happy to step away from furtive stares and a few outright motions of recognition. Renee had offered to accompany, but Lynne had shaken her head, wanting a few moments alone with her baby. Eric had popped in, but Lynne shooed him away too. His place was center stage, while she was happy to remain in the background.

  This night had also revealed to Lynne that she wouldn’t need to attend the opening festivities when many of these canvases were displayed back east. She would probably travel with Eric, wanting to see Laurie and Stanford, and Michael Taylor too. And Agatha would likely insist that Lynne came, if only to meet Jane. Depending on when that exhibit was planned, Lynne would attend solely for family’s sake. Then she winced as Jane tugged forcefully. Perhaps they would also be introduced to Seth.

  Lynne wanted to meet him, but on appropriate terms. She wanted to shake his hand with Eric at her side, both of them greeting Seth at the same time. Yet, a New York showing wouldn’t occur until early 1963 and by then Seth would have been home for a few months. Might he need Eric before then, and not as one artist advising another? Then Lynne shook her head. She couldn’t worry about that, it was out of her hands.

  She smiled at her baby, who wasn’t teething yet, but soon enough. Would Lynne keep nursing if Jane started biting? Maybe that would usher in attempting for another child. Lynne giggled, then brushed soft curls from the baby’s face. Jane stared at her mother, then pulled away, a huge smile on her face. Lynne’s heart felt to bursting and she hoped that by next spring she wouldn’t be the only mother she knew.

  By then Fran would have delivered the twins, but more on Lynne’s heart was Renee. Not that Renee would know this sort of connection, but while this time was precious to Lynne, it wouldn’t last forever. Time sped so quickly; here it was August already, but Lynne wasn’t ready to wean her daughter. She would let Jane dictate a sibling’s arrival, or actually God would make the decision.

  Jane seemed finished and Lynne hoisted her over her shoulder, two burps released. Lynne didn’t immediately set Jane to her other breast, instead nuzzling against her daughter’s face. While she wished Renee could experience this sort of bond, perhaps Renee didn’t need this kind of connection with her offspring. Then Lynne wondered how Frannie would do with the twins; thank goodness there were enough Aherns and Canfields to assist when those babies arrived. Fran’s due date was for late September, but twins had their own timetable, and while the longer Fran carried them the better, they might come early. Daily Lynne prayed for that family, especially for a mother who must have mixed feelings about her predicament. As a Catholic, Fran had been raised with the notion that a large family was God’s blessing. But as a woman caring for all those children, the sentiments could be somewhat altered.

  Lynne set Jane to her chest, but the baby showed no interest in nursing. Jane’s eyelids were starting to droop and Lynne smiled. Renee had offered to take them home, once Jane was ready for bed. All Lynne would have to do is return to where the paintings stood, then catch the attention of any of her most loved. Even Stanford would know what Lynne needed, which was to take her baby home and end this day. Lynne stood, placing Jane in the Moses b
asket, waiting on the floor. Lynne rearranged her blouse, then slung the baby bag over her shoulder. She gripped the basket’s handles, then left the room, heading for where crowds still gathered.

  She saw Laurie first and he didn’t need more than the nod of her head. He fetched Eric, who wore a broad smile. “You two ready to leave?”

  “We are. How’s it going?”

  “It’s been quite a night. Stanford’s getting tired of being pestered to sell any canvases, otherwise, I think he’s quite pleased. And he’s been subtly badgering me to let him put together an impromptu show for November.”

  Lynne smiled. “Well, I’ll leave all that to you gentleman. So who’s gonna take us home?”

  “Renee was just here a few minutes ago, asking when you might be ready. I told her to go ask you, didn’t you see her?”

  “No, just been me and the girl here.” Lynne smiled down at her sleeping baby. Then she scanned the room. “I don’t see her or Sam. Maybe they both needed the restroom.”

  “Hmmm, well, why don’t you wait in the conference room and I’ll hunt them down. They can’t be far.”

  Lynne nodded, then returned to where she had been just moments before. The door had been closed for her privacy, yet the light had been on, but perhaps Renee had forgotten to check on her. Lynne waited for several minutes, then Jane stirred. Lynne patted the baby’s back, speaking in soothing tones. Jane calmed and returned to sleep.

  But still no one came for them. Finally Lynne stood, stepping to the door, opening it a crack. The light in the hallway was dim, but she could make out a figure, running her way. It wasn’t until the man was nearly upon her that she saw it was Pastor Jagucki. “What is it?” she said softly.

  Marek was out of breath and he gripped Lynne’s hands. “Sam’s sister’s gone into labor. One of his brothers was just here and the Aherns have left for the hospital.”

  Lynne shivered from Marek’s anxious tone. “Oh my God, is Fran all right?”

  Marek shook his head. “Not from the sounds of it. Eric said he’d be here in a few minutes. I told him I would close up the show and Laurie and Stanford offered to stay as well. I’ll take them to your house, but I think Eric wanted to take you to….”

  Lynne nodded. “Yes, I mean, at least to see if they’re….” Lynne started to cry. “Oh my goodness, she’s not due for several weeks. Oh Pastor, this isn’t good at all.”

  Marek squeezed Lynne’s hands. “It might not look that way, but God is with Sam’s sister and those babies. We’ll keep them in our prayers and trust that his will is good.”

  Lynne looked back, her daughter asleep in the Moses basket. She nodded absently, for the pastor was right. Yet, a mother’s heart ached for what Frannie, Louie, and their family must be considering. As Eric ran the length of the corridor, Marek released Lynne’s hands, and she stumbled into her husband’s grasp. Eric hugged her tightly, then kissed Lynne’s damp cheek. “Let’s go. I told Sam we’d get over there as soon as possible.”

  All Lynne could do was cry while Marek collected the baby basket and the diaper bag. He followed the couple to their car, helping Lynne get seated while Eric put Jane in the backseat. Lynne’s eyes were teary as Eric started their vehicle, and her vision was still blurry as he backed out of the parking lot, Marek seeing them off into the dark night.

  Chapter 69