Late on Saturday evening, Lynne rested in her husband’s arms, both seated on the sofa. Remnants of the party lay scattered on the floor, from bits of gift wrap to books and toys Jane had opened with assistance from Helene and Johnny Canfield. Jane would have happily played with the ribbons and bows, but those two youngsters were too excited to stand by idly. Lynne peeked around the room, also finding a few stray balloons which Marek had brought. He had claimed no party was right without balloons and while some had popped, a couple hung halfway in the living room, the helium beginning to dissipate as if the balloons were suspended by wires from the ceiling.
Only if Lynne concentrated did she recall who hadn’t been there, but in Eric’s warm grasp, that detail drifted away. Many pleasant notions filled a mother’s heart and some were connected to Lynne’s long chat with Frannie. After presents had been enjoyed, pie too, those mothers spoke unhindered in the kitchen for what at the time seemed like ages to Lynne. Perhaps that was simply because it had been a long while since she had shared her thoughts with another woman, or just in what Frannie revealed. Which wasn’t more than a mother’s love for her offspring and appreciation for yet another life to be celebrated. But to Lynne, Fran’s words went deeper; while Renee wasn’t mentioned by name, Lynne felt that woman’s absence wasn’t as painful as Lynne had assumed it would be. Occasionally Sam had looked slightly forlorn, then a niece or nephew would garner his attention, or Jane would clamor for him. She seemed fully aware of the guests’ places in her life. Sam earned the lion’s share of her affections, Marek on Sam’s heels. Then Frannie, followed by the youngest Canfields. Even Louie held the birthday girl and Lynne had detected no lasting ache from that encounter. Jane didn’t understand all the familial ties, but she had made Louie laugh, a sound that now bounced around in Lynne’s chest. All assembled that day had been pleased to share with Lynne and Eric the blessing that Jane was, and for those unable to attend, Lynne had indeed felt their love and good wishes. Laurie and Stanford had called that morning; Stanford had sounded subdued, yet his words were tempered with an underlying thankfulness that previously Lynne had never detected. The call had been brief; Constance’s funeral was also that day. Still Lynne had appreciated hearing from them and she’d allowed Jane to jabber into the receiver. Stanford had actually laughed, both Lynne and Eric had heard that strange but jovial sound. Perhaps it had done Stanford a world of good on that particular day to engage with an infant who in just two weeks would invade his life. Laurie had hoped that Jane wasn’t offended to only receive a card, reminding the Snyders that he still planned to take their daughter to FAO Schwarz. Eric had reassured Laurie that Jane knew full well of that activity and Lynne had let her husband end the conversation. Both had expected to hear from the New Yorkers and at the time Lynne had wondered if maybe Renee would also reach out. But the phone had been silent for the rest of the day and now, nearly bedtime, Lynne didn’t consider the only other person who mattered to Jane. Instead Lynne snuggled against her husband, who seemed aware of her thoughts. Eric gently stroked Lynne’s cheek, but didn’t insinuate anything further. They had been cuddling on the couch for over half an hour, yet too much ran through their heads for anything to be initiated.
The couple remained on the sofa for another thirty minutes, but when the clock chimed ten, Eric began to move. Lynne was sleepy, it had been a busy day, and church in the morning would initiate yet another round of tasks. Lynne would clean the house while Eric tended to Jane, or perhaps he might begin another painting. Plus now that Jane’s party was over, the upcoming trip to New York would be foremost on both adults’ minds, not to mention thank you notes to Marek and the Canfields and to Sam and….
Now Lynne allowed that small sorrow. Renee had been deeply missed, even if Sam seemed jolly and Frannie was chatty. Laurie and Stanford had no idea Renee hadn’t attended, for both of them had passed along their regards to Sam and his wife. When Stanford had mentioned Renee, Lynne had winced, but let it go without comment. Now as she sat alone on the sofa, a chill ran through her. Part of it was from Eric having left to lock the house. But Lynne couldn’t escape that in later years, when she examined the photos taken on that day, Renee wouldn’t be among the revelers. Would Jane ask where her godmother had been or, God forbid, might Jane not inquire? Would Renee simply slip from Jane’s realm and no longer be a part of any of their lives?
Lynne brushed tears from her cheeks, not wishing to dwell on such an unhappy future. Renee was speaking to Marek on a biweekly basis. Eric had shared that, after Sam left on Jane’s actual birthday. Once PBJ’s and pie had been partaken, then husband and wife had sat together on the sofa while Jane explored the living room. Eric had spoken softly, not wanting Jane to hear, also to ease into Lynne the depth of Renee’s pain. Yet it was good that Renee was sharing this and Eric had full trust in his pastor not only as a man of Christ, but as one to whom such hurt could be revealed. Lynne understood that, it wasn’t that she felt Marek wasn’t up to the task. But Lynne had so wanted to enjoy this day with Renee, thanking that woman for the role she had played exactly one year ago, and to confirm Renee’s position within Jane’s life. Then Lynne took a deep breath, standing from the sofa as Eric approached. She went into his grasp, realizing no matter how badly she might want Renee near, it was out of her hands.
As Eric crooned how much he loved her, Lynne nodded. She also prayed, seeking peace and patience. This with Renee would have to run its course, just like other events Lynne had already experienced. It wasn’t like Renee was going to turn into a hawk and fly away. After an appropriate amount of time, Renee would return to their lives. Lynne smiled at herself, then kissed her husband. Eric reciprocated, then chuckled. “Are you okay?”
Lynne nodded, then caressed his face. “All things in God’s time, isn’t that right?”
Eric stroked around her eyes. “That’s about everything in a nutshell. Are you ready for bed?”
“I am.” Then Lynne giggled. One year ago, the idea of lovemaking was a remote consideration. Yet twelve whole months had passed, some of those days dismal and confusing. But many had been filled with pleasure, and as Eric led her to the stairs, Lynne couldn’t deny the bliss which emanated from this man and all they had endured. As they took the stairs, again she prayed for those she considered family and that as this evening came to a close, partners were wrapped close to those they loved. That was how Lynne fell asleep, entwined in Eric’s arms, no worries to plague her.
The next morning, the Snyders woke early, Jane eager to continue the celebrations. She was the center of attention at St. Matthew’s, news of her birthday making the rounds. After the service, mother and daughter chatted with a bevy of well-wishers in the foyer while Eric spoke to his pastor outside on the steps. Marek remarked upon how well the Canfields had seemed and Eric agreed. Time was a great healer, Marek smiled. It was just a matter of taking life day by day.
Eric nodded, then offered a sly grin. “I suppose day by day is all we can do. Thank the lord it’s all we’re given.”
“Indeed,” Marek chuckled. “Sometimes when I encounter Mrs. Harmon, I wonder if second by second is too much.”
“Has she been around lately?” Eric glanced down to daffodils just emerging from the soil. Then he stared at Marek. “Looks like the flowers are behaving this year.”
Marek looked to the plants, then smiled. “Yes, thanks be to God. Now I just have to pray that the tulips are as timely with their arrivals.”
The men laughed as women began filing out from the double doors. Ladies said goodbye to the pastor, then met up with their waiting husbands on the sidewalk. Eric turned toward the doors, but Lynne and Jane didn’t emerge. Perhaps Jane needed to be changed and Eric remained where he was. He wanted to speak to Marek about another subject, but that query required discretion. Not that Sam had alluded to anything so delicate yesterday; most of Sam’s time had been spent holding his goddaughter or entertaining Hel
ene and Johnny. Sam’s paternal side had been stirred and it had pained Eric to see such devotion exposed. Yet, as Lynne had noted last night, all things in their own good time.
As one last woman gave the pastor her best, Eric stepped inside St. Matthew’s, which was empty, parishioners with other places to be. Eric rarely visited his church other than on Sunday mornings, or the occasional Wednesday evening service, but the Snyders were still newcomers, and their presence on Sundays was what was expected at this juncture. Or at least to those who saw weekly church attendance as all that was necessary.
While Eric didn’t feel compelled to attend a Bible study, he wondered how his, Lynne’s, and eventually Jane’s lives would revolve around this church. Would they mark Jane’s baptism as profoundly as they had her birthday? They would be in New York on that date, where exactly Eric wasn’t certain. Lynne knew their itinerary, or Eric hoped she had a better handle on whose home they would be staying in week by week. Most of the trip would be spent in Manhattan, but now that Constance had passed away, perhaps Michael wouldn’t feel like hosting. Maybe they would attend church with Agatha, who had mentioned that in a recent letter to Lynne. Or maybe Laurie would invite them to his synagogue, which made Eric chuckle. Laurie was still going on occasion, but Eric didn’t linger on why. He didn’t wish to think about Seth, enough on Eric’s mind right there in town.
“Da-da!” Jane’s sharp voice rang through the emptiness, making her father turn around. Eric smiled, then quickly walked to where his wife and daughter were, at the back of the church. Lynne looked weary, but the last few days had been full of activity. Maybe when Jane took her nap, a mother might do the same.
Lynne released Jane into her father’s arms and Eric nuzzled against his daughter’s face. “Did you change her?” he asked his wife.
“I did and now you can drive us home. I think I’ll catch forty winks when she does.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Eric smiled, leading his wife into the foyer. He glanced around, but didn’t see Marek. Perhaps the pastor had assumed the couple had already left, or maybe Mrs. Harmon had sought Marek’s attention. Eric didn’t call out, but walked with Lynne through the double doors. No one waited on the sidewalk, everyone was gone. Eric wasn’t bothered that he hadn’t offered a proper goodbye to Marek; maybe they would attend the Wednesday service, or perhaps Eric would invite the pastor over for dinner. Sam’s unfinished sentence still clouded Eric’s thoughts, but maybe Sam didn’t need to complete that statement. Eric had a very good idea how Marek had made peace with his family’s demise and Eric wouldn’t need to badger Sam for the answer. Nor would he nag Marek for it; Eric would wait until….
Low clouds obscured the sun, what initially caught Eric’s attention. The day had been bright, if not a bit cool, much like yesterday, perfect early spring weather. As the sun momentarily disappeared, Eric looked around, then spotted Marek far down the street, kneeling beside a young boy who seemed to have fallen. Eric saw the cause for the spill; roller skates lay in a heap near the boy’s feet. Marek helped the youth to stand, then collected the skates as the boy brushed off his trousers, both breaking into smiles. The lad looked around eight or nine years old with brown hair, but from a distance, Eric spied the resemblance between the pastor and his charge. Then Eric chuckled; that painting was now being viewed all over Europe. Yet, it was right there in front of Eric and Lynne, who also stared at the scene.
Both Snyders knew this child wasn’t a member of St. Matthew’s, merely a local who had gotten his feet tangled. Marek patted the boy’s shoulder while the youngster thanked him for lessening his fall. Marek advised the lad to get some knee pads, lest his mother scold him for torn trousers. The boy laughed, then ran off, waving with one hand, skates dangling from his other. The boy probably realized that Marek wasn’t only his neighbor, but did the youngster understand what now Eric saw as clearly as the blue sky, which no longer was obscured by clouds, making Eric break into a small sweat.
As he mopped his brow, he glanced toward the pastor, who nodded at the trio. Then Marek met Eric’s gaze. They stared at each other for seconds as another wave of Marek’s history tumbled into Eric’s consciousness, confirming what Sam had alluded to days before. Eric didn’t ponder that someone else roamed this earth with similar hawk-like tendencies; now Eric allowed for miracles, which before he had never considered his odd existence. But a miracle had saved Marek Jagucki’s life, just like the marvel of Eric’s daughter, who called for her pastor in a Polish-sounding voice.
“Ah, now I can give you all a proper send-off.” Marek took the squirming girl from her mother’s arms. He kissed Jane’s cheek, then tickled her chin. “But first I had to rescue some trousers from yet another session under a mother’s sewing machine.”
“Is he all right?” Lynne asked.
“Oh, nothing hurt but a bit of pride, which at his young age could use a bruising now and again.” Marek laughed, then hoisted Jane into the air. “Now to Miss Jane here, I wish another beautiful year of life and very few tumbles. And of course, many slices of your exquisite pie.” Marek smiled at Lynne. Then slowly he gazed at Eric. “And goodness knows how many sittings as the daughter of an exceptional painter.”
Lynne giggled, but Eric remained stoic. He nodded at Marek, conveying how yet another truth had been shared without any words spoken. Marek nodded back as Lynne issued an invite for lunch. Eric wasn’t at all surprised that the pastor begged off, then accepted an invitation to dinner, on Friday night. Eric understood the delay; Wednesday evenings were taken and now so were Tuesdays and Thursdays, spent counseling Renee. What had been revealed, in merely a gaze, required a few days of contemplation for both men. But by Friday, Eric expected a discourse to occur and while he wasn’t certain if Lynne would be privy to the conversation, there was much for Eric and his pastor to discuss.
It was to Eric that Jane was handed over, the men again sharing one more glance. Lynne was oblivious, chattering about what kind of pie to bake. Absently Marek mentioned pumpkin, which placated Lynne. Yet in Marek’s faraway tone, a painter detected layers of history as if Eric was standing in front of the blue barn. For the first time, Eric could envision that edifice, but neither as himself nor as the hawk he’d been when first encountering it. There was no falcon or mice; a smoky haze swirled up from the structure, soldiers gathered round, laughing and gesturing to those trapped inside.
Eric blinked, but the image didn’t budge. Taking a deep breath, he shook Marek’s outstretched hand as Jane whimpered. Lynne took the baby, not noticing how the men’s gazes never left the other. Eric released Marek’s hand, then nodded. Marek said nothing, but words weren’t necessary. Lynne offered their goodbyes, repeating the dinner invite for Friday over Jane’s Polish-tinged jabbering. Eric escorted his family to their car, then drove home, allowing Lynne’s soothing voice to calm his racing heart. When she grasped his hand, he gripped back with force. The rest of the trip was in silence, buffered by Jane’s sing-song murmurs from the back seat.
Chapter 93
The Hawk: Part Five Page 12