The Hawk: Part Five

by Anna Scott Graham

  On Wednesday morning, Renee drove the new car to work. Sam had made excuses the past two days, but Renee had patiently outwaited him, where before she would have badgered her husband. As she parked along the street, she wondered about that alteration of her personality, and if it would last.

  She didn’t show off the new vehicle until lunchtime and her colleagues were suitably impressed. None asked how the Aherns might have afforded such a luxury, although one older nurse, Vivian Kramer, smiled slyly when Renee mentioned that Sam had bought the car last week. Slight contempt had edged Renee’s tone and Vivian patted Renee’s shoulder, noting that men simply assumed women didn’t care about automobiles. Vivian remarked that it was she who had taught her younger brothers to drive, and that she preferred a manual transmission. Renee laughed, for the woman must be close to retirement age. They spoke about it later during a quiet moment in the office. Ritchie had taught Renee how to drive long before Renee was of legal driving age. When Renee’s father got behind the wheel with his daughter, Renee had to pretend she didn’t know a thing about working a clutch. To this day, Renee chuckled, Gene still thought he’d been the one to instruct Renee how to shift gears.

  All the way home Renee considered that moment, also how in just a few short months she had grown comfortable working at the doctor’s office. Part of her ease was the few nurses employed there and that the doctor, Mark Howard, was a rather progressive physician, although he too wasn’t far from hanging up his stethoscope. But Vivian was the senior nurse, and sometimes seemed to know more about the patients than Dr. Howard. Vivian was a widow, and her only child, a son, had been killed in World War II. Yet, she never acted like that tragedy had placed a damper over her life. Nor did she seem affected by her widowhood. Renee didn’t know when Vivian’s husband had died; it wasn’t a topic that came up in conversation. As Renee reached her street, she forgot all about learning to drive. If Sam hadn’t come home from Korea, Renee would have been widowed as well.

  She parked in the driveway, beside the old car. The vehicles were now referred to as the old car and the new car, but tomorrow Renee imagined she’d be back to the old car. She didn’t mind, it was simply nice now having two of them. No longer would Sam have to take her to work, which in Renee’s mind instantly translated to no longer would she and Sam have to avoid certain subjects. She shivered, then stared at her front door. Sam was inside, dinner was waiting. When arriving home last night she’d had the old car, but hadn’t come straight from work. She had driven from St. Matthew’s after chatting with Marek, mostly about what it was like having two automobiles. Had she even spoken about…. Again Renee shuddered. No mention of the Snyders had been made by either Renee or Marek. Then she giggled; no longer was he Pastor Jagucki. But for how long was Marek going to let her get away with not talking about what she was supposed to be working through?

  Renee got out of the car, locked it, then headed toward the front door. As she reached the porch, she turned back; the vehicles looked well matched, even if one was over ten years old. Sudden tears sprung from the corners of Renee’s eyes; their driveway looked like a family lived in this house, which wasn’t at all the case. Not that one of the cars was a station wagon, only that the Aherns had two. Two cars, for only two people? She blinked away the stray tears, then shook her head. Opening the door, she heard Sam’s gentle hum, then inhaled fragrances associated with chicken cacciatore. Sam had been making that meal since the couple had met, one of the ways Renee fell in love with him. How exotic, she had initially thought, and now, how many years later, he still cooked with the same skill and enjoyment. How many years, she wondered, as Sam continued to hum. Had he not heard her step inside?

  Renee stayed where she was in the living room, still in her coat and wraps. The scent of tomatoes, Italian herbs, and simmering meat took her back to after the war had ended, 1947. She was just beginning nursing school, living at home, and not dating anyone. High school romances had sustained her romantic yearnings for a few years, but at nineteen, Renee was far past such shallow flings. She wanted what her older siblings had found, Ritchie and Brenda the senior married couple in Renee’s family. They already had two kids and Brenda was expecting their third when Renee bumped into an already balding young man just outside the market. Sam Ahern, as he immediately introduced himself, carried a full bag of groceries, yet he’d found a way to shake Renee’s hand, making plenty of eye contact. At first she assumed he was staring at her odd gray-white irises. But the longer he’d looked at her, the more she found herself unable to gaze from his bright blue eyes. It was love at first sight, even if it took a few years before they were married. Renee had wanted to finish nursing school while Sam was dithering around in college, although his heart was in cooking. All that time both lived at home, then after Sam went into the army, Renee returned to her familial base. It was a short-lived stay that was sometimes interrupted by Ritchie’s presence. Then Sam came back and once he was discharged from the VA hospital, they bought this very house. Renee had saved all her earnings and she worked full time. On one income the Aherns had managed to pay their mortgage, few other expenses for them to meet.

  Sometimes when Ritchie was drunk, he mentioned this to Renee, how lucky she and Sam truly were. Kids cost an arm and a leg, he’d drawl, to which Renee always smiled politely. She never chastised her brother, for a couple of reasons, one being that even if Ritchie was totally smashed, he never said this around Renee’s husband. The other was that Ritchie was right. Her sisters and sisters-in-law had inadvertently noted the same idea, although none ever broached that if they’d had fewer children, the costs wouldn’t be so high. Maybe they never considered that fact, but then none of them worked, associating in tight Catholic cliques that didn’t permit such nonsense. Yet Renee spent much of her time around a variety of women, or she had when working at the hospital. She’d never dwelled much in the Catholic sphere there, mostly because her best friend hadn’t shared Renee’s faith.

  Renee swallowed hard, then sighed. Then she grimaced as Sam still hummed. How long had she been standing there, wasn’t he starting to worry? She glanced at the clock on the far wall; it was only five thirty. Maybe he was already used to her late nights when she saw Marek. On Tuesdays and Thursdays she didn’t get home until six, perhaps that was Sam’s timing now for dinner. The cacciatore smelled done, but there were still the egg noodles to cook, and Renee didn’t hear him filling a pot of water. All he did was hum, sometimes moving about the kitchen, oblivious to his wife standing only feet away.

  If they’d had kids…. Usually Renee never entertained that idea, but if they had, Sam would know she was home because their children would have been outside playing or sitting here in the living room, watching television. They would have heard their mother drive up, then started clamoring that Mom was home. Renee didn’t switch the roles she and Sam had possessed since their earliest married days; she had always been the breadwinner, he with a degree in history. But Sam’s love wasn’t for dates and events, but what emerged from pots and pans. Only Renee had known just how much Sam loved to cook and that all he’d wanted to do was run a restaurant. If he hadn’t enlisted, that would have been his aim, much to his parents’ chagrin. But Sam was different from the men in his family, who either worked white collar jobs or wore a collar. Older brother Ted was a priest and younger brother Henry was just as devoted to the church without having been ordained. The Aherns were a quieter clan than the Nolans, or as Renee would admit, not as prone to drink. The Aherns were more spiritual, she allowed. Most of them, Renee then permitted.

  But who was Renee to judge Sam’s youngest sister Joan? Joanie and Russell used birth control, Renee was certain, otherwise they’d be like all the rest, with too many mouths to feed. And here was Renee with two cars in her driveway, both of them paid off in full. Yes, she and Sam still had a mortgage, but there were no other outstanding bills. Ritchie and Brenda were up to their ears in d
ebt, in part that Ritchie’s drinking contributed to his occasional bouts of unemployment, not to mention how much it cost to raise nine kids. Brenda worked as a secretary and sometimes she was the only one with a job. Renee had never known financial deprivation, she and Sam were careful with their money. Well, they had been careful, and now they were rich. No way to say otherwise, what with a paid-off brand new car taking up space in the driveway.

  None of Renee and Sam’s relatives knew about the Bel-Air; Sam was waiting to tell his family until after they’d had the car a few weeks to make sure the vehicle was suitable. Renee wouldn’t breathe a word until after all the Aherns knew, although she expected Sam’s family to take the news with a grain of salt. Both clans were aware that Sam and Renee had made a healthy sum off the painting they had sold, that wasn’t a secret. And everyone knew the miserable price associated with that canvas. Maybe Renee hadn’t spoken about that with Marek, but one of these evenings it was bound to come up.

  One of these Tuesday or Thursday nights Renee would have to mention it or there was no reason for her to continue seeing Marek. And if she stopped seeing Marek…. Then Renee choked, which immediately made Sam stop humming. Then he stood in front of her as if all she had needed was to make one noise, alerting him to her presence. Before Renee could speak, Sam’s arms were around her, his face beside hers, his soft, loving voice in her ear. Maybe he had known she was there, but that she’d needed time to process certain issues. Maybe Sam was more in tune with her than Renee realized. She might be going to therapy, but Marek was patient, as was this man, who said he loved her, was glad she was home, and was she hungry? The noodles were nearly ready, Sam crooned, like that statement was some kind of romantic pick-up line. Renee smiled, then kissed him. He tasted like tomato sauce, which made her giggle. “Been trying out dinner early?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Just making sure it’s good. C’mon honey. Let’s eat.”

  Sam tugged on her hand, but Renee still wore her coat. She smiled, then cleared her throat. “Okay, but let me get outta my jacket. Don’t wanna get sauce on it.”

  Sam turned to face her. “How long’ve you been home?”

  His tone wasn’t facetious, which at first slightly peeved Renee. Then she glanced at the clock, which still read five thirty. But how was that possible what with all she had pondered?

  “Um, well….” Again she stared at the clock, was it broken? The hands hadn’t budged, yet ages felt to have passed since she stepped in the front door. She had been back to just meeting this man and, and, and…. And now it was 1963, they had been married for well over a decade. It had been years since Sam had been in the army, years of a life that Renee hadn’t imagined when she’d met him. Had she been so wrong in those dreams of a bustling home filled with….

  She had been incorrect, she realized, slowly removing her coat like it was a shield of armor. Cautiously she set it over her arm, still not ready to relinquish that safeguard. Kids either ate you out of house and home or they died in wars, leaving you alone. Vivian might not act like her dead son was a burden, but she must carry deep scars from such an awful wound. Becoming a widow might not have been all that difficult, Renee mused, what with that horrific notion already bludgeoning Vivian’s heart.

  What would life without Sam have been like, Renee suddenly thought. No children would have been hard, for she probably would always have wondered what kinds of kids they would have had. Maybe she would have met someone else, gotten married again, been a…. But she and Sam had been married an entire year before he went away and Renee had never fallen pregnant. Maybe their childlessness had nothing to do with Sam’s injury. Maybe it was all because of her.

  Rarely was this scenario pondered because for so many years it had been Sam to nix the idea of adoption. It was due to Sam that Renee wasn’t a mother, but what if? What if Sam hadn’t joined the army or what if he’d been drafted, but never gotten shot? He would have come home, still a mess, but wholly unharmed in the physical, and then month after month would have passed with no babies to show for all their intimacies. Renee would have been like Lynne, or how Lynne used to be, assuming infertility was all her problem. But for Renee and Sam, that would have been reality. And maybe, even on this night all these years later, it still was the truth. Maybe Renee was never meant to be a mother in any shape or form.

  Sam stepped her way, but left space between them. Renee nodded, wordlessly thanking him for his discretion. Yet she appreciated his presence, she loved this man beyond any words imaginable. She loved him so much that for years and years all she could fathom was that if they adopted a child, how much more would she love him. But offspring wasn’t a barometer for affection. Children were often the outcome of love, but whether a couple had nine, six, or three kids, their love wasn’t bound by that progeny. Or maybe it was diluted, Renee considered. Then she shook her head. Joan and Russell’s relationship couldn’t be compared with Ritchie and Brenda’s by simply using the number of children as a measuring stick. Too many other factors complicated the argument.

  Then Renee thought of Lynne and Eric. Renee had known that twosome for years and only in the last twelve months had a baby intruded. Renee clucked at herself for describing Jane with that adjective, but in a clinical manner, she permitted it. Then she wanted to burst into tears, for since Lynne became pregnant, Renee couldn’t deny the newly discovered tenderness between the Snyders. Eric had become a different man what with an expectant wife and Lynne had certainly changed into a new woman, the sort of woman Renee never would be. And maybe that was just how Renee Nolan Ahern was meant to be, regardless of Sam’s injury or any other obstacle. Robbie Carver wasn’t supposed to be Renee’s son because in all probability, Renee Ahern was infertile. And sometimes in this life there were absolutes which never altered.

  Sam would never father a child and Eric would always have a penchant for changing form. Marek’s entire family was dead; these were issues fixed within the universe. Like Christ, Renee added. Maybe some folks didn’t believe in God, but that didn’t render Jesus simply as a man. Renee took a deep breath, feeling a strange peace within her chest. All the years she had pined for a child had been wasted. She was never meant to be a mother and it was high time she accepted that fact. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, it wasn’t Robbie’s grandmother’s fault either. It was the way it was, no more, no less. Renee wore a wary smile, purposely not considering that for years and years Lynne had felt the same. All that ran through Renee’s mind was a curious calm, which had nothing to do with Sam’s grasp upon her hand.

  “Renee, honey, you all right?”

  She looked right at him, wondering if she should tell him. But if she told him, he’d only sigh, then maybe mention that Marek wasn’t the right counselor for her. Marek was exactly the kind of person she needed, someone who had suffered greatly, but put it all behind him. He hadn’t badgered her, but let her come to this on her own. And tomorrow she would tell him that and thank him for their few sessions. It hadn’t taken very long to reach the root of the dilemma, which was that Renee was the trouble. After all these years, it hadn’t been Sam’s problem at all.

  “Yeah Sam, I’m fine. Just hungry. Let’s eat.” She gripped his hand, then gave a broad grin. “Smells so good, just like always.”

  He nodded, then took a deep breath. “Well, it smells good. Let’s see how it tastes.”

  Renee laughed loudly; Sam was always fretting about his cooking, but only she knew it. It was why he changed recipes so often, well, everything but the custard. He was always looking for the perfect formula for chops, chicken, or anything else that caught his fancy. Sam took her coat, setting it on the sofa, then he led her into the kitchen. Renee sat down, watching him fill their plates. Then she gasped, but as she did so, Sam rattled pans, not hearing her, for he didn’t turn to see what was the matter.

  Renee was grateful for the commotion, for it took her several seconds to catch h
er breath. What would Sam do when he learned the reason for her peace of mind? Would he seek a divorce now that he knew he wanted kids? Renee had no doubt about that; Sam ached for a family and he was hoping that Marek would change Renee’s mind. But Renee’s mind was more firmly set. Maybe she would have to be honest with Sam, it was the least she could do. She needed to tell him the truth, but first she would inform Marek, maybe he could help her find a way to gently break this news to the man Renee adored, but wouldn’t cling to. An icy chill ran up her back as Sam put a plate in front of her. If Sam wanted to be a father, best they split up now, giving him that opportunity. She loved him, that wasn’t in question. But Renee would sacrifice anything for him to be happy. It was the least she could do after all that Sam had suffered.

  All the years of their marriage, Renee had set a misplaced dream in front of her wifely affections. She owed Sam much in the way of reparation, even if he didn’t realize it. But now it was time to pay up. Renee took a bite of dinner, but it was tasteless. She tried another, still no flavor. But she didn’t wish to hash it out that evening. First she would tell Marek, then Sam. In the meantime, she ate her supper, complementing Sam on yet another fine meal even if seemed like sawdust in her mouth.

  Chapter 94