When the Snyders reached the hospital, they found a contingent milling about the main lobby. Most of those gathered were older men, but a few younger fellows recognized Eric. He spoke to two of them as Lynne cradled Jane. She caught the eyes of a few women, but she didn’t know them, probably Louie’s relatives. Eric returned to his wife, leading Lynne near the gift shop. He took a deep breath, then grasped her hand. “They don’t know much, seems Louie was down here about half an hour ago. The rest of the family’s up in the maternity ward lobby, but I think that was just too close for these folks.”

  Lynne nodded. “Do you think it’s all right if we go up there?”

  “Yeah, I spoke with Russell, Joan’s husband. He said that Sam told him to tell us to head up there if we wanted.” Eric stroked Jane’s head. “I’m sure it’ll be fine to take her up there.”

  “Oh Eric, I don’t know. It might seem in poor….” Taste, Lynne wanted to say. “Maybe you should go up. We’ll wait down here.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll run up there and see what Sam and Renee think. Won’t be more than a few minutes.”

  As Lynne nodded, Eric led her to some open seats, but not far from where other ladies were speaking in somber tones. Then Eric sprinted to the elevator and within seconds he was gone.

  Jane was nearly asleep and Lynne set her over her shoulder. Patting the baby’s back, Lynne crooned a soft melody, occasionally peering up, finding gentle eyes upon her. Lynne smiled back, then a woman who looked in her sixties stepped Lynne’s way. “I’m Nancy Canfield, Louie’s aunt. Is your husband the painter?”

  “Yes. I’m Lynne Snyder, Eric’s wife. It’s nice to meet you.”

  The woman nodded. “I’ve seen that painting of Fran and the girls, it’s beautiful.” Nancy paused, then sighed. “We really don’t know any more than Fran went into labor, but it’s so early.” She gazed at the elevator door, then back to Lynne. “Louie was down here for a while, not much for him to do, but then a nurse came for him, and we haven’t heard anything since.”

  Lynne’s heart raced and she tried not to think of what could have kept Louie, and the rest of those upstairs, from coming down to inform those waiting here. Then Lynne considered Pastor’s words, that God was with Frannie and the twins. “Well, Eric went to see what he could find out. He’ll be back as soon as he speaks with Sam and Renee.”

  Nancy nodded, then clasped her hands together. Then she gazed at Jane. “How old’s your baby?”

  “She’s almost five months. Her name’s Jane.”

  “That’s a lovely name.” Nancy’s face brightened. “Is she your first?”

  Lynne nodded. “Yes. We’d been at….” That night’s activity now paled in importance. “We’d been out with Sam and Renee and I didn’t have a sitter.”

  Nancy shook her head. “You don’t need to explain. She’s a doll. Jane you said?”

  “Yes, Jane Renee.”

  Nancy’s eyes widened, then she smiled. “Well, that’s a fine name. I don’t know Sam and Renee that much, well, I did see Sam over summer, helping out with the kids.” Nancy’s tone quieted. “Poor Fran was so sick, just not that easy when you get older.” Nancy glanced at the elevator again. “We’ve been praying for her, I hope he’s listening.”

  “We’ve been praying too.”

  Nancy gazed at Lynne. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Goodness knows they’re gonna need all the help they can get.”

  Lynne nodded, but wasn’t sure if the woman meant now or later. Both, Lynne was certain, regardless of the outcome.

  For five minutes Lynne and Nancy Canfield sat in silence while hushed murmurs floated through the dimly lit lobby. Finally the elevator opened and Lynne stood, seeing her husband and Renee step out. Renee’s face was red, her bearing shaky, and Eric supported her as soon as they were clear of the doors. Lynne met them and others joined her. “How is she?” Lynne asked.

  “She’s, oh my God, she’s….” Renee burst into tears, turning to Eric, who grasped her.

  “She’s alive, but it’s touch and go right now.” Eric looked at Lynne as he spoke.

  “And the babies?” Nancy asked, standing beside Lynne. “How’re the twins?”

  Eric blinked away tears. “She’s had two boys, but they’re very small and weak.”

  Lynne gasped, as did others. In her husband’s gray eyes, Lynne saw a painful truth; those tiny infants wouldn’t survive the night. But Fran was alive and Lynne said a quick prayer, then stepped toward her husband, who was still shielding Renee. The Snyders nodded at each other, then Eric took Jane as Lynne embraced Renee, who started to sob. Lynne led her to the lobby seating as Eric followed them. The others gathered together, tears shed and more prayers offered.

  Renee cried hard and Lynne eased her onto a double seat, sitting beside her. Eric sat to Lynne’s left, bobbing Jane, who had stirred from Renee’s outburst. Lynne had several questions, but didn’t wish to further upset Renee. Then Lynne gazed at Eric. When was the last time he had looked so stricken? Was Fran’s health that precarious, yet, Lynne didn’t inquire, speaking softly to Renee, who continued to wail.

  Then Lynne looked up as the elevator doors opened. Sam and his sister Joan stepped out, Joan looking as disheveled as Renee. Her husband Russell came to her side and Sam walked toward the Snyders and Renee. Sorrow was evident on Sam’s face, also bitterness. Lynne wondered about that emotion as Sam sat next to them, but left one vacant seat between himself and Renee.

  “Well?” Eric said.

  “They still won’t say if Frannie’s gonna make it. But the priest hasn’t given her last rites, so that’s a good sign.”

  “And the twins?” Lynne said slowly.

  Sam glanced at Eric, then motioned to the rest. “Did you tell them?”

  Eric shook his head.

  “Sam, what?” Lynne said, still gripping Renee.

  Sam trembled, then stared at his wife. To Lynne, the look was more of a glare, as if somehow this was Renee’s fault. “Sam, actually, you don’t need to say anything.” Lynne knew the risks and while she wished for the truth, it seemed a great chasm separated the Aherns. She squeezed Renee, but didn’t ask Sam to embrace his wife. Renee had calmed a little, but Sam wore an angry countenance.

  “You guys should probably go home,” Sam said. “I’ll call you in the morning, let you know what’s going on.”

  “Will you be here all night?” Eric asked.

  Sam nodded. “I’m not leaving till I know Frannie’s outta danger.”

  “Well, all right then. Shall we take Renee with us?”

  “Yeah, do that.” Sam stood, not making eye contact with anyone but Eric. “I’d appreciate it.”

  Eric stood as well, stepping near Sam. “We’ll take her to our house. Listen, please don’t hesitate to call, I mean….”

  Lynne observed how Sam never looked at his wife; what had happened, Lynne wondered, for Renee never tried to meet Sam’s eyes.

  “I’ll call you first thing in the morning, let you all get some sleep.” Sam shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I’m gonna go talk to Joanie and Russell, then see what the rest of Louie’s relatives are gonna do. They might as well go home too, no use waiting around here anymore.”

  As Sam stopped speaking, Renee jerked away from Lynne. Renee stared at her husband, then almost stood, but she was too wobbly to get up. Sam didn’t pay any attention to her, but he patted Eric’s arm, stroked Jane’s head, then walked away without any goodbye. Lynne was reminded of when Sam had visited her during Eric’s absence two years ago, that same seething fury. Only now it wasn’t directed at Lynne. This time Sam wanted to throttle Renee.

  By the time the Snyders reached home, it was nearly midnight. Renee hadn’t spoken more than to thank them for the ride, but she had been surprised that they didn’t drive her to her own house. Eric wondered if Renee had been listening to her husband, not that Sam had said much to her, or had he directed any conversation Renee’s way? Lynne carried Jane inside while Eric led Renee, but she ba
lked at going upstairs, said she would sleep on the sofa if that was all right. Eric nodded, retrieving some blankets and a pillow. The room next to where Stanford and Laurie slept was open, but for some reason, Renee preferred the couch.

  Eric didn’t tarry long, making sure the doors were locked. He said a quiet goodnight to Renee, but she didn’t answer other than by the slight nod of her head. Eric took the stairs, finding the nursery door mostly closed, the guest room door at the end of the hall shut. His bedroom door was also nearly closed, only a crack of light underneath. He stepped inside, firmly shutting the door behind him. Lynne was already in bed, her Bible in hand. She looked to have been crying and Eric kicked off his shoes, then got in beside her.

  Lynne began to weep and Eric moved the Bible aside, cradling his wife. He wondered what she assumed from her time as a nurse and concerning the great gulf now present between the Aherns. Eric had found them on opposite sides of the maternity ward lobby, Sam speaking with his brother Ted and Louie while Renee stood with Sam’s sister Joan and the rest of their female relatives. None of the Canfield children were present; Eric learned that Sally was keeping an eye on her siblings, but he wondered if Sally knew about the tragedy which had occurred. Probably not, unless Louie or someone else had called the teenager.

  “Renee’s on the couch,” Eric said. “Jane fall asleep okay?”

  Lynne nodded, then reached for a tissue on her nightstand table. She blew her nose, then looked at him. “What happened?”

  Eric swallowed, but his mouth was dry. “She had a hysterectomy. They couldn’t stop the bleeding after the babies were delivered. She lost a lot of blood, that’s why her condition’s so tenuous.”

  “And the twins?”

  Eric sighed, tracing his wife’s damp eyes. “You probably know more about this than me, something about a twin-to-twin transfusion? Not to mention they were so premature. Sam said they were born alive, but last rites had been administered right afterwards.”

  Lynne nodded. “I wondered if that was it. They must be identical then, that’s the only time it happens.”

  “Yeah, Sam said something about that.” Eric cleared his throat. “Honey, something’s very wrong between him and Renee. When I got there….” Eric explained those details, then felt a lump in his throat. “I’ve never seen Sam so mad, that’s what he was, he was simply furious.”

  “That’s what he was like when he visited me when you were gone. Eric, I have no idea what’s wrong between them, but it’s serious.”

  Eric nodded. “Well, we’ll pray and try to facilitate as best as we can. Maybe she said something or….”

  Eric stopped speaking due to the horror on his wife’s face. “Lynne, my God, what is it?”

  “Oh Eric, that day they came over and you were showing off the back garden. Renee wanted to tell me something, but she prefaced it with she hoped I wouldn’t hate her, something about Fran and the twins. Oh my lord, I wonder if she was gonna say….”

  Lynne’s tears restarted and Eric pulled her close in part to muffle the sound, which was as painful as Renee’s deep sobs shed in the hospital’s lobby. He also didn’t wish her to say another word, which would have been impossible for how hard Lynne wept. She didn’t need to tell Eric what she thought, for Eric had seen that truth when he’d painted Renee alongside Lynne and Jane earlier that summer. Eric didn’t judge Renee, for he and Lynne had gently spoken about the same: why again was Fran pregnant? But now the worst had occurred, not that Renee’s feelings were the cause. It was no one’s fault that the babies had been born so early, or so ill. Even if the transfusion hadn’t happened, they were tiny infants, well, one was smaller than the other. But even the larger twin was far too little to survive. Eric had caught a few pertinent facts; born at just over thirty-two weeks gestation, they had weighed less than six pounds combined, and weren’t expected to live through the night. Eric had seen the priest, not from St. Anne’s, but from the Canfields’ local parish. He’d been comforting various family members, but neither Sam nor Renee had been the subject of his consolation. Eric then wondered about Louie; when had he been told of his wife’s condition? Eric was grateful to have shared in Jane’s birth, but that rarely occurred. Men were expected to remain in the waiting room, then the good news was brought to them by a nurse. Louie had been in the downstairs lobby for a while, did he not realize how serious was Fran’s condition?

  Maybe he’d felt like Renee, or maybe his older relatives had needed his presence. Not that Louie could have done anything for Fran, and now there would be no more concerns about further Canfield offspring. Hopefully Fran would pull through with no lasting physical debilitation. Her heart, however, would take ages to heal.

  Lynne had calmed and she slowly pulled from Eric’s grasp. They stared at each other, similar thoughts coursing through their minds. Eric kissed her softly, then as she laid down, he took back the bedding, removing his clothes. He left on his briefs in case Jane stirred or Renee needed something, or if Sam did call. But Eric didn’t expect to hear from Sam for several hours, unless Fran’s condition took a severe turn. It would take Samuel that long to feel like speaking, not that he was angry with the Snyders, only that Sam’s wife was in this house. And for now, Sam wanted nothing to do with Renee.

  Eric couldn’t change that, but he was exhausted, and his bed was warm. He snuggled against Lynne, who wrapped her arms around him. The couple wasn’t intimate, but they held hands as Eric began The Lord’s Prayer. He spoke for them both, but Lynne’s quiet Amen made Eric blink away stray tears. Then they turned on their left sides, more prayers leading both into unsettled slumber.

  Chapter 70