Sam was still reading to Paul, both seated on the sofa, as Vivian and Renee drank tea in the kitchen. It was nearly nine o’clock and Renee had to wonder just how her friend would cope with this new arrangement; Ann had only fallen asleep ten minutes ago, having wept for her mother during all of Renee and Sam’s visit. Renee had rocked the little girl, telling her…. What had she spoken, for now Renee couldn’t imagine what she might have offered to such an inconsolable child, but finally it seemed to have eased Ann to sleep, or more rightly, she had cried herself out. But she hadn’t wanted to be held by Vivian, only Renee, although Sam hadn’t tried, too busy with Paul. Renee gazed across the table, finding an exhausted woman gripping a mug, wiping tears from her face. Renee reached over, steadying Vivian’s hands. Vivian nodded, trying to form a smile.
Yet, her mouth remained frozen in a worried half-frown, then she sipped her tea as Renee released her hands. Renee had only known Vivian since spring, but now she considered this woman a vital member of her family. Was it from all Vivian had done when Sam was sick, then Renee felt a distinct shift within her ribcage like her lungs were moving or maybe it was her…. When the Aherns had arrived, Ann had been squirming in Vivian’s grasp, crying hard. Paul had stood at his aunt’s side, tugging on her housecoat, also in tears. Sam had immediately picked up the little boy, while Renee stared at Vivian’s unkempt appearance, then Ann had been thrust into Renee’s arms, Vivian mumbling she needed the ladies’ room. No proper introductions had been made, and while Paul seemed to calm in Sam’s hold, Ann continued to bawl for her mother. Those cries hadn’t bothered Renee; they were to be expected from a three-year-old at this stage of loss, for there was no manner to explain to such a small child why her mother was gone, or her father. Then Renee had momentarily shut her eyes, not to drown out Ann’s wails, but to blot out the image of that woman. Red-haired and blue-eyed Beth Hamilton had bestowed those physical traits upon her offspring, yet that was all she would ever give them. Most likely neither would remember her, or Roy. Maybe Paul might carry some faint recollection, he was five after all. But Renee didn’t possess any memories from that part of her youth; she’d tried to conjure some while Ann kept howling, Paul’s whimpers in the background. Renee hadn’t been able to pull anything other than learning from where Thanksgiving dinner originated. She must have been eight or nine already, certainly old enough to be put off turkey for years to come.
While Ann wept, Renee had pondered a few notions, for Vivian didn’t return right away. When she did rejoin them, she was dressed in slacks and a long-sleeved blouse. She asked if Sam and Renee wanted something to drink, and Renee had shaken her head while Sam asked for a glass of water. Now Renee gazed at the clock, hanging over the kitchen sink window; it was late and neither Ahern had eaten dinner. But Renee wasn’t particularly hungry, although the tea was nice. What about Sam? She gazed around the kitchen; they hadn’t fed the children, maybe Vivian had given them an early supper. Renee nearly stood to ask Paul if he wanted a snack. But she only heard Sam’s soft murmurs, a tone he used around Jane or Fran’s kids when sleep was near for those youngsters. Renee smiled; Sam would make such a good father as soon as they got around to reading those dossiers.
Then Renee glanced at Vivian; perhaps she had assumed caring for two little ones wouldn’t be too taxing, yet that wasn’t the case. Then Renee grew curious; why had Vivian called the Aherns for assistance? Vivian had a wide circle of friends; on weekends she was always going to parks, museums, stately homes. Then Renee tutted herself; those friends were probably Vivian’s age, close to retirement, if not already enjoying their golden years. It had been wise for Vivian to call Renee, and Sam’s presence was helpful too. Then Renee listened carefully; Sam had stopped speaking. Renee caught Vivian’s attention, then motioned toward the living room. Vivian gazed that way, then nodded, visibly relieved that Paul might actually be asleep.
“Thank God,” Vivian then whispered. But she didn’t move to verify her assumption, taking another drink of tea. Renee however needed confirmation. She stood, quietly walking to the doorway separating the two rooms. Sam had Paul over his shoulder, was heading to the hallway. He met Renee’s eyes, and she could tell he wanted to ask where to lay the sleeping boy. Renee walked to the hallway, turned on the light, then led her husband to where Renee had lain Ann to sleep. Enough light shone from the hall so Sam could see Paul’s bed across from where Ann slept. Renee stood in the children’s doorway, observing how gently Sam placed Paul on the mattress, not wishing to wake either child. Sam set a blanket over the youngster, then bowed his head. Renee shivered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Sam was praying over that boy, then she wiped her face as Sam turned around, heading her way.
They left the room together and Sam gripped her hand until they reached the living room. Then he released her, quietly clearing his throat. “Gonna use the bathroom,” he whispered.
Renee nodded, then she smiled as Sam went back down the hall. She hadn’t turned off the light, mostly because Sam had closed the kids’ door, and Renee needed to relieve herself before they left. She would do that once Sam returned, but would make sure he had a cup of tea in front of him. He probably needed something stronger, maybe a stiff drink once they were home and had eaten a late supper.
By the time Sam joined the women, tea waited for him at the table. Renee couldn’t remember if Sam had ever met Vivian, so she made those introductions, then excused herself. She didn’t tarry, although as she walked back down the hallway, she paused at the children’s bedroom door. She heard nothing but small snores, then made her way to the kitchen, turning off the hallway light as she went. Vivian was still gripping her mug, Sam’s in his hand, and Renee retook her seat, feeling a little weary, but satisfied. She and Sam could leave that evening knowing they had indeed offered four very helpful hands.
Silence permeated the kitchen, which also made Renee smile. Then she hid a grimace, for in looking at Vivian, stillness within this home would be a fleeting dream for ages to come. How long would it take Ann to adjust, then Renee shivered. Was it easier for orphans surrounded by other children, or was this the ideal situation for such changes to be initiated? Then Renee wondered if this was how Vivian’s time in Colorado had gone. “Was this how it went before you all came back here?”
Both Vivian and Sam stared at Renee, who suddenly turned crimson. She hadn’t prefaced her query with any comment, and her words must have sounded judgmental, if not overtly rude. She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, that was terrible for me to say. I was just wondering….”
Yet to Renee’s surprise, both Sam and Vivian reached out their hands to grasp hers. Then Vivian cleared her throat. “No, it wasn’t terrible, and neither one was that upset.” Vivian sighed, squeezing Renee’s right hand, then she let go. “Some of their neighbors helped out and the kids were used to their house. It’s only been hard, well, since we got here.”
Renee nodded, gazing at her left hand, still held by Sam. “Well, I just wondered.” Renee stole a glance at her husband, but his face was hard to read. Then she looked at Vivian. “Were you surprised, I mean, that you’d been made their guardian?”
Vivian shook her head. “Beth had asked me even before they had Paul. I said yes, I mean, you never assume the worst.” Vivian trembled, but Renee felt it wasn’t in sadness. More futile in nature, as if she had lost a patient, not a niece. Maybe that was the best way to handle it for now, Renee permitted.
“And well, here we are,” Vivian continued. “But to be honest with you both, I just don’t know if I can….” Taking a deep breath, Vivian let it out slowly. “When I went out there, I was actually surprised I was still their guardian. Roy doesn’t, I mean, he didn’t have any family.” Vivian paused, then cleared her throat. “But they’d lived there for several years and I figured they had friends more their age who’d, you know.” Vivian peered into her cup, toying with the handle. “I never asked, I mean, that would’ve been strange. But no one said anything to me while I was
there, maybe that would’ve been more odd. And until we got back here I thought it’d be okay. Ann doesn’t understand anything, I mean, she’s so little, and Paul….” Vivian sighed, gazing first at Renee, then at Sam. “He was his daddy’s boy. Looked just like Beth but….” Now Vivian’s voice quivered. “Both kids looked just like her, a lot like my brother. But how I’m supposed to take care of them, I just don’t know.”
Vivian stared again at her mug, vigorously shaking her head. “I don’t have the energy,” she said softly. Then she met Renee’s gaze. “And to be honest, I just don’t have the….” Vivian blinked away tears, then wiped her face with her sleeve. “It’s not that I don’t love them, I do. But it’s been way too long since I, since, oh my goodness.” She reached for a napkin from the center of the table, then blew her nose. “They need real parents, more than some old aunt they barely know. They need….” Vivian glanced at Sam, then Renee. “Folks like you two. There’s a reason I called you tonight Renee. I know we’ve only worked together since the beginning of the year, not even that long. But you and your husband, well….”
Renee’s eyes grew wide as the words fell into her ears. Not for one moment had she considered what Vivian was insinuating, had Sam? Renee looked at him, then she began to tremble. Tears were rolling down his face, he was nodding his head. Then Renee gazed at Vivian, who had grasped Sam’s left hand, and she was crying too. Was she still speaking, Renee wondered, but the only sounds were those of two weeping adults, although the tones weren’t sad. Well, Vivian’s seemed a little sorrowful, but Sam’s mood carried no unhappy resonance. He breathed deeply, then stared at Renee. His eyes were wet, wide, and so blue, as though an ocean rested in his face. Renee tried to inhale, but her breaths were choppy, not like the calm water of Sam’s eyes, as if the whole world was sitting in Renee’s midst, waiting for her to jump right in.
“You want us to do what?” Renee tried to look away from Sam’s face, yet, she was drawn back to his eyes, the blue like she had never seen. It wasn’t the hue of Jane’s; it was the blue of the sky when Eric flew past the nursery window, a magnificent blue, beautiful and free and blessed. Renee shivered, then bit her lip. Then she peered around the room, trying to gather her bearings. This wasn’t St. Francis’ orphanage, this wasn’t St. Joseph’s either. It was simply the home of…one older woman. It wasn’t a house for children, or not to be raised within, perhaps only to visit. Renee thought back to when she had brought over the bear, toys strewn about the living room, but that evening no playthings had caught her eye, nor had that bear been present. Where was that bear, Renee mused. “What happened to Scooter?” she blurted.
What was real, she also wondered, needing to know something concrete. Vivian had only asked for their help, that was all she’d said on the telephone just a few hours ago. But where was Scooter? Ann simply needed her bear, that would fix everything. Dossiers sat on the Aherns’ coffee table, other children who had been waiting for years for parents. Yes, Ann and Paul were orphans too, but, but, but….
“Oh that bear,” Vivian sighed. “Ann threw it in the garbage a few days after….” Vivian met Renee’s gaze. “She stopped talking for a couple of days, I was getting worried. Then one afternoon, after she’d had her nap, she took Scooter into the kitchen and threw him in the trash. I pulled him out, was going to throw him in the washing machine, but she was adamant, actually took him from my hand, then right back in the garbage he went. When she wasn’t looking, I took him out, was waiting for her to ask for it back. She never did, although she did start talking again. She didn’t even pester Paul for his bear. That was right before we came home, which made me wonder how things would go here. And they’ve been just terrible. They’re so upset still, and I know it’s a huge shock, believe me I understand that. But I’m just not that young anymore and it’s not fair to any of us.” Vivian glanced at Sam, then back to Renee. “And I mean all of us. Maybe that sounds selfish of me, but I’m not only thinking of myself. I’m thinking about two children who would do so much better with real parents. And I certainly don’t mean to overstep my bounds, I don’t wanna impose upon you. But I’ve been thinking about this, well, since that night I called you, when I first learned the news. I’ve watched you Renee, around the few kids we get in the office. And while I don’t mean to….” Vivian sighed. “I’m old and I’m tired and it pains me greatly to admit this, but I’m not the best person for this job.”
Now Vivian began to weep, placing her hands over her face. Yet Renee was frozen in her chair, the revelations swirling around her. Sam however, scooted beside Vivian, then took her in his arms. Renee heard him offer words of comfort, and she detected no judgment. She also heard a cautious acceptance in his voice, although she wasn’t certain if that was linked to Vivian’s admission of her inability to care for the children, or did it extend to…. Renee blinked, then gazed at the clock; it was almost ten. She had work in the morning, best that they wrap up this night and…. Then Renee found Sam’s eyes upon her, that inviting ocean just inches away. There was no doubt in her mind to what he wanted, but was it fair, not only to those children at St. Francis’, but to Beth and Roy, even if they weren’t living. Was it right that they had died, and here were Sam and Renee stepping into their places as if…. Renee couldn’t look away from Sam’s eyes in the same way she hadn’t been able to stop staring into the sky on the Fourth of July. Was it just that Eric turned into a creature, was it right that Lynne and Jane were alone, was there anything at all equitable about any of these situations?
Then Renee inhaled something familiar, yet she couldn’t place the scent. It wasn’t that of church, her house, or from work. Breathing again, she concentrated. She gazed at her blouse, then to her left shoulder, where Ann had fallen asleep. It was the smell of a child, perhaps the scent of Ann’s pajamas, or that of her copious tears. Renee’s shirt had been soaked, but now it was dry, still the smell lingered, yet it wasn’t offensive, even if Ann had been so disconsolate. Renee’s heart stirred from that thought, then it began to pound, but was that indeed God’s will? She gazed at Sam, his eyes still so blue and open, the slight nod of his head making her shiver. He was amenable to this notion, a family waiting just down the hall for them. Then Renee looked at Vivian. Her aged eyes beseeched Renee’s agreement.
But would this further harm these youngsters, to be uprooted first from Colorado, then to this house, then to…. “What if this makes it worse?” Renee mumbled those words, unsure if she was actually considering Vivian’s proposal.
“I’ve thought about that,” Vivian said. “Last night was just the same, so I called some friends, they’re grandparents, I thought they’d get the kids to quiet down.” Vivian sighed. “They only lasted an hour, bless their hearts. Ann ran around screaming for her mother while Paul just curled in the corner of the couch, wouldn’t let any of us near him. After Bob and Mary left, I sat on the sofa, wondering what I was gonna do. Finally Ann cried herself out on the floor while Paul fell asleep sort of cuddled near me. But he wouldn’t let me hold him, goodness knows I tried. But tonight, and while I know Ann still cried the whole time, they let you two hold them. They haven’t allowed anyone to hold them, not in Colorado or here. I called you tonight Renee because no one else was left, and I needed to know. And, well, now they’re asleep and it won’t be easy, and maybe that’s not fair to you two. But they need people they can trust and I saw it tonight. They trusted both of you. Don’t ask me why, not that you’re not good people, but nobody else has been able to hold them, nobody else but you.”
Again Renee’s breathing grew choppy, for that scent stirred a memory, many of them, but the strongest was that of presenting Lynne and Eric with their newborn daughter. How sacred was that moment, and only an hour or so ago had Renee been the unwitting recipient of that same gift. The knowledge of that blessing washed over her as tears fell down her face, both for Vivian’s words and that awareness. Some things in this life weren’t at all fair, but that didn’t negate the rightness, even if it seemed
unbalanced. Renee stood, although her legs were shaky. She glanced again at the clock, it was a few minutes after ten. At a few minutes after ten on the first of October, she had become a mother. Gazing at Sam, she saw him nod, he seemed to realize it too. Then as if Vivian was the attending nurse, Renee went to that woman, who was assisting in a delivery of sorts. Renee knelt beside her, then embraced her. Vivian wept hard, although Renee didn’t ponder the reasons. There were many possibilities, but the main one was that of two children being given to their mother and father. Perhaps not the ones who created those little lives, but those destined to care for them for what remained of their youth and beyond. Renee had no idea how long she would live, but for the rest of her days she would be Ann and Paul’s mother. That bittersweet notion filled her entire being, losing the sadness and strengthening the joy with every breath Renee inhaled.
Chapter 141
The Hawk: Part Eight Page 5