Stanford and Laurie stepped from their taxi on Saturday, marking the third day since a baby entered Lynne and Eric’s lives, as well as Renee and Samuel’s. It was also St. Patrick’s Day, which Laurie had noted a few times, licking his lips in anticipation of corned beef and cabbage. Stanford had rolled his eyes; what did a Jew want with Irish fare? Then Laurie had laughed; anything Sam Ahern made had to be delicious.
The men had taken a cab from the airport, not wishing to bother anyone for a ride. Stanford was still skittish about arriving so soon after Jane’s birth, but Eric had called on Thursday, assuring his art dealer that both were still very welcome. An infant’s sharp cry had emerged in the background, which Stanford found both odd and strangely inviting. What was the baby doing in the Snyders’ kitchen, and might she still sound that newly born on Saturday? Stanford had heard his nieces and nephews’ small cries, but none of them had seemed that novel, as if Jane Renee was a new form of infant. Stanford said nothing about this to Laurie, for Laurie would have teased that Stanford had a soft spot for babies. Stanford felt that wasn’t at all true, but he didn’t discount that perhaps as Eric had found a chink in Stanford’s armor, maybe Eric’s daughter might do the same.
The men grabbed their cases, then Stanford tipped the driver, who responded with a broad smile. Maybe the cabbie hadn’t expected such an extravagant gratuity, then Stanford smirked at himself. This wasn’t New York City, merely a small western town that Eric called home, but Eric Snyder was the most cultured part of it. Stanford followed Laurie through the gate, as the taxi headed back to town. Stanford didn’t even know the population, probably not more than ten or fifteen thousand, although since late Wednesday night, it was home to one more.
The house looked large to Stanford; it would take him ages to adjust to the renovations. And alongside those changes would be the presence of an infant. Stanford had mulled over what that baby might do to Eric’s paintings; she had already made a marked change in them, although Stanford didn’t expect the two canvases in Minnesota to make inroads with Eric’s future works. Those paintings hadn’t seemed to affect Seth much, or at least not enough to cancel the proposed electric shock therapy that was scheduled to begin next week. Stanford was glad to have had an excuse to take Laurie out of the city, and away from his mother and aunt. All the Abrams family could talk about was Seth’s impending course of treatments, and that afterwards he would never be the same.
Laurie’s steps were vigorous, and Stanford was glad for his partner’s excitement. They reached the kitchen door, and Laurie knocked softly. “Come on in,” Sam said, which Stanford could hear standing behind Laurie. Then Stanford inhaled the savory fragrance of corned beef, as Laurie opened the door, entering the Snyder kitchen.
Greetings were exchanged; Stanford received a hug from a very jovial and somewhat tired-looking Sam Ahern. Sam wore a chef’s apron, and a few days’ worth of stubble. Stanford smiled, then set down his case, as Laurie took off his jacket, placing it over a kitchen chair. “Well, how is everyone?” Laurie said quietly.
Sam grinned widely. “Everybody’s exhausted, but it’s a giddy fatigue. Well, all except Jane. She’s probably asleep, and I hope her mother is too.”
Laurie laughed quietly, then pointed to the coffee pot. “Are you all living on the proper fuel?”
“That and pie,” Sam said. “I think I’m finally getting the hang of making pie crust, but it doesn’t compare to Lynne’s.”
Stanford said nothing, letting Laurie carry their end of the conversation, as from the start Laurie had gotten on better with both Aherns. Then footsteps could be heard, and Stanford inhaled, hoping it was Eric. As that man entered the kitchen, Stanford let out a long breath, but then immediately he took another, for Eric didn’t look as before. He had filled out, for which Stanford was grateful, but weariness was more evident on Eric than on Sam. Yet, it was mixed with an inexplicable bliss that negated lethargy’s more debilitating aspects. Eric looked like he could live forever on coffee, Sam’s pie, and a newfound energy that Stanford knew was solely related to fatherhood.
“Laurie, Stanford, you made it, wonderful! How was the flight?” Eric embraced Laurie first, then hugged Stanford, patting that man’s back. Then Eric pulled away, chuckling. “We were starting to wonder if you’d had second thoughts about getting on a plane.”
“It was running late, but here we are, in plenty of time for dinner.” Laurie laughed, then hugged Eric again. “Michael sends his congratulations, as do Mom and Aunt Wilma and the rest.”
Stanford had wondered if Laurie would mention them; the women had taken small relief from the news about Stanford’s client’s new addition. But it hadn’t stemmed their glut of anxiety. Still, a baby was something to celebrate, especially for Eric and his wife, for how long they had waited. Then Stanford glanced at Sam. That man seemed unaffected by this event, or maybe he was so tired, it didn’t matter.
How would Renee seem, Stanford wondered, as Laurie asked about Lynne and Jane. Eric noted that both were asleep in the master bedroom. “If you want, feel free to make yourselves at home upstairs. Lately when Lynne naps, she only seems to stir when Jane cries.” Eric smiled. “Human instinct’s a funny thing, but it’s kept us going all these years, so I’m not gonna argue with it.”
“Well, only if you’re sure. Stanford and I rested on the flight. I don’t wanna wake either the baby or the new mother.”
“Eric’s right,” Sam smiled. “Go on up and make yourselves comfortable. Lynne won’t hear you at all.”
“But what about the baby?” Stanford said quietly.
Eric chuckled. “Believe me, if Jane needs to wake, she will. She sure loves to sleep though.”
“Well, I’d love to change out of these clothes. Stanford will take his room, and I’ll grab the one next door. Seems those will be our accommodations from now on, what with the new arrangements.” Laurie gently slapped Eric on the shoulder, then headed toward the stairs. “But I’ll be back down in a jiffy. Sam, put me to work when I return.”
“Will do. Should the first order of business be a celebratory whiskey?” Sam smiled.
“Absolutely,” Laurie nodded. “Stanford, are you in?”
For a second, Stanford blinked, wondering if Laurie meant the drink, or something else. They had decided that for this short trip, separate bedrooms were a must, what with the Aherns coming and going. “I could use a drink, yes please.”
“Terrific. Eric, are you with us?” Laurie asked.
“I’ll pass for now. Maybe tonight.” Eric smiled at Laurie, then at Stanford. “Renee’s catching forty winks in the nursery, but if she wakes, she might want a shot. Sam, I’ll leave that up to you.”
Sam laughed as Stanford followed Laurie out of the kitchen, going right up the stairs. As Stanford reached the landing, he smelled fresh paint, then looked back at the closed master bedroom door. Had Eric already started depicting his new family? Stanford then saw the mostly closed door to what now was the nursery, faint snores wafting through the crack. He smiled to himself, only men were awake at that moment. He was glad for it, or that Renee was asleep. Then he found himself at the end of the hall, two open doors waiting.
Laurie stopped at the first, on the left. “I’m just gonna change clothes. I’ll unpack later, but feel free to….”
Stanford grasped Laurie’s hand, then kissed his cheek. “Are you going to be all right?”
Laurie’s smile eased Stanford’s mind. “I’m not gonna think about him here. Here Stan, all is new and very right with the world.” Then Laurie set his lips to Stanford’s, leaving an intimate kiss. Stanford tried to back away, but ultimately he permitted it, aware that Laurie needed it as much as he did.
For the next hour, the gentlemen enjoyed whiskeys and quiet conversation in the kitchen. Then the tender cries of a newborn were discerned, and Eric left the group, returning with a wrapped bundle. Sam watched as Jane was introduced, first to Laurie, for he was seated on that side of the table. Laurie’s eyes misted
over, then he smiled. “Why Eric, my God, she’s beautiful. Hello Miss Jane. I’m Uncle Laurie.”
Sam felt a brief flash of envy, which surprised him, then it floated away as Laurie stood to wash his hands. Laurie returned to his chair, then accepted the gift Eric was eager to bestow. Sam had wanted to ask about Seth, but the chatter had been so lighthearted, he hadn’t mentioned him. But Laurie seemed weakened by the quiet baby, as tears formed in his eyes. Laurie stroked the baby’s hat, careful not to touch her cheek. Sam had wondered if either Laurie or Stanford might commit that faux pas, for if Jane wasn’t hungry, best to let Lynne stay asleep.
Laurie stared at Jane, then chuckled. “I haven’t held a baby in a long time. I’d forgotten how little they are, but you said she was eight pounds, correct?”
“She certainly was. Don’t tell Lynne you think she’s small, she’d beg to differ.” Eric smiled, then winked at Sam. Lynne was still in some discomfort, but she had taken a bath that morning, saying afterwards she felt almost human again.
Eric sat down as Laurie cooed to Jane, who seemed happy to be admired. Sam loved holding her, every time realizing a healing balm being poured over his head. He and Renee had discussed it, both noting that soothing sensation, which neither had experienced when holding any of their siblings’ infants. Not even with any of Frannie’s kids had Sam ever felt so…. Restored was the best way to describe it, but the couple hadn’t spoken of any more than those feelings. Although last night Sam had dreamed about that blue barn, but no longer did it house a gelding and brood mare. Just ponies, several of them, but Sam hadn’t given it much consideration.
Now, watching Jane weave a similar spell on Laurie Abrams, Sam wondered about Seth. As Laurie spoke quietly, his tone also relayed unwinding tension, as if Laurie was taking deep lasting breaths. Sam had felt that way too, but he knew what was being unearthed. He’d told Renee about that as well, speaking of Josh and Larry when Eric and Lynne were fast asleep. It was just to protect Lynne, for Sam had spilled his guts about those dead men when Eric was in a similarly lost state well over a year ago. Yet, it wasn’t for Lynne to know, or Jane, in the same way Laurie didn’t breathe a word about Seth, although Seth Gordon was in that room, Sam felt him in every sentence Laurie uttered. Sam gazed at Eric, who seemed to agree. Eric looked worried, as if now that Jane had arrived safe and sound, her father was no longer bound to remain.
Then Sam glanced at Stanford, but as usual, that man was hard to read. He did seem excited to hold the baby, as soon as Laurie relinquished her, but that would be time in coming, for Laurie was besotted with Eric’s daughter. Then Sam peered at Stanford, who was staring at Laurie, but not wishing to rush Laurie’s time with Jane. Stanford’s face carried different sentiments, those of highly personal feelings. Sam quickly looked at the table, then stood, stepping to where the beef simmered. He’d been waiting for the New Yorkers to arrive to add the cabbage, then about half an hour before everyone was ready to eat, he would throw in the potatoes. Sam didn’t like to overcook the spuds, it made the dish gooey. He concentrated on the cooking, because if he looked again at Stanford….
If Sam took another glance at that man, he would see exactly what bound him to Laurie, and it wasn’t the New York art world. It was love, which prickled the hairs on Sam’s neck. Sam had seen instances of that in Korea; a few guys hadn’t been adverse to…. Sam tried not to shiver, but he couldn’t help it. Quickly he turned around, finding Jane still in Laurie’s competent hold, Stanford chuckling with Eric. Maybe Sam had gotten it wrong, maybe it was merely Stanford’s guard falling. But why had Laurie been at Stanford’s apartment on the night Jane was born? Why not stay at his own place, why….
Then Sam swallowed hard, as Laurie reluctantly handed Jane to Eric, who then placed that baby in Stanford’s unpracticed grip. As Stanford tried to fit her in the crook of his elbow, Eric assisted, while Laurie laughed quietly, but love edged his tone. It shined in Laurie’s eyes as he gazed at Stanford, who seemed slightly stiff, but not as formal as before. Love then was exchanged as the men gazed at one another, glances then sent Eric’s way, but not with the same intensity. Then Sam turned back to the stove; Eric knew, but didn’t seem bothered by it one bit.
Stanford didn’t coo to Jane as Laurie had, but he asked Eric if he’d been painting in the last few days. Eric laughed, admitting that a mostly finished piece was in the nursery, maybe that was why Renee was still sleeping, paint fumes knocking her out. But it was only a small canvas, of mother and daughter, and once Renee was awake, Eric would be happy to share it. Other new paintings were accumulating in the sunroom, the last pictures of Lynne before Jane’s birth, but none of them were similar to those that had been sent to Minneapolis.
The gentle hum ceased, then Sam stared at those seated at the table. Laurie’s hands were clasped in front of him, then Eric patted those hands. “How is he?” Eric said softly.
Laurie shook his head, then released a long sigh. “They’re starting shock treatments next week. Stanford and I will stop there on our way home. Mom and Aunt Wilma felt it best that since I was gonna be out here anyways….” He shook his head. “Your paintings helped a little Eric, but not enough, or not to Seth. Supposedly other patients have found great comfort in them.”
Sam stepped toward Stanford, and the men gazed at one another. Sam didn’t have to ask to take Jane, as Stanford readily handed her in Sam’s direction. Then Stanford stood, but didn’t approach Laurie, although Sam could tell that was what Stanford wished to do. If it had been just Eric and the New Yorkers, Sam imaged that Stanford would be kneeling beside his….
“We’ve been praying for him,” Eric said. “How long will you stay in Minnesota?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Stanford said. “If Laurie can see him, maybe a few days, but if they don’t think he’s up to visitors, we might just speak with the doctors and head home. To New York,” Stanford added, with a cough.
Yet Sam knew what Stanford meant; home wasn’t merely a city to these men, but a shared apartment. They weren’t only friends, and probably had been that way for a long time, as now Stanford pulled up the chair Sam had used, beside Laurie. Stanford sat down, but didn’t touch Laurie. Yet he stared right at Laurie Abrams, whose hands were now firmly grasped by Eric.
Sam wanted to flee, he wanted to protect Jane, he wanted to…. But he couldn’t move, watching how Laurie began to weep, removing his hands from Eric’s, then placing those hands over his face. Now Stanford leaned toward Laurie, whispering something Sam could barely discern. Yet, the words weren’t important; more was the tenderness expressed. Sam quietly slipped from the room, as Jane began to mew, her cries barely audible over the sorrow drifting from kitchen.
Eric found Sam in the nursery, seated beside his sleeping wife. The men shared a glance, then Eric motioned for Sam to follow him.
“Is Laurie all right?” Sam asked, once he had closed the nursery door.
Eric nodded. “They went for a walk, it’s not too cold out. But I think dinner would be helpful. How long will it take?”
“Forty minutes,” Sam said. “I just need to throw in the vegetables. Jane still with Lynne?”
Eric smiled. “Yeah, thanks for taking her in there.”
“It was my pleasure. Did you learn any more about Seth?”
Eric sighed, then led Sam to the end of the hallway. The guest room doors were still open, and Eric could see Stanford’s unpacked suitcase sitting on his double bed. Eric assumed that for this short trip, the men would use both rooms, but Eric also wondered if perhaps Sam had discerned the nature of the men’s relationship. That would have no bearing on where Stanford and Laurie slept, for Renee would still be in and out. But Eric had been watching Sam, as well as trying to comfort Laurie. “They didn’t know much more than what Stanford said. But Seth’s family really didn’t want it to come to this. One of Laurie’s aunts had shock therapy, and it didn’t go well at all.”
Sam nodded, then stared at his shoes. “Well, we’ll keep praying for hi
m. I’d better go get the cabbage in the pot.”
As Sam started to walk away, Eric reached for his arm. “Sam, they’re together. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
Sam stopped, but didn’t immediately face Eric. He took a deep breath, then shrugged. “Their personal life isn’t any of my business.”
“No, but while they’re here, I hope it won’t be any sort of hindrance.”
Sam met Eric’s gaze. “What do you mean by that?”
“Lynne knows.” Eric stepped Sam’s way. “But it’d probably be best to keep this from Renee.”
Then Sam sighed heavily. “Yes. Yes it would.” Sam paused, started to speak, then stopped himself. Again he glanced at his shoes. “Gotta get the veg started. Does Lynne need anything?”
“I’ll get her some juice. When they come back, tell them she wants to see them, but that she’s not quite ready to take the stairs yet.”
“Sure, will do.” Sam’s tone was aloof, as he walked the length of the hall, not slowing by either where his wife still slept or where Lynne nursed Jane. Eric sighed, then followed Sam as far as the master bedroom. He peeked in, finding his wife happily breastfeeding their daughter. Lynne looked up, her face with a quizzical gaze. Eric entered the bedroom, but didn’t speak until the door was closed behind him.
Chapter 57
The Hawk: Part Three Page 17