For two days Eric worked in the studio, but his efforts produced mixed results. Initially he had painted Sam with that man’s hands shoved in his pockets. But Eric painted over that pose, returning Sam’s arms to guarding his chest. Yet, as Lynne studied the canvas, she noted to her husband how she could still see the afterimage of Sam’s hands thrust into his jeans’ front pockets. Eric agreed, then he started outlining the Chevy, and by the end of the second afternoon much of the car was detailed. Lynne and Jane had joined Eric in the studio and Lynne wondered when Eric returned if he would scrap this entire canvas and start over. Yet, she said nothing, watching her husband frantically yet unsuccessfully attempt to bring to life a painting he’d been longing to create. As he set down his brushes, Eric remarked that tomorrow he wanted to spend the day working in the garden. Lynne nodded, then took Jane to the house to start the evening meal.
That night Marek stopped by, his presence a welcome distraction. He told stories of again being on Mrs. Harmon’s bad side; weeds were infiltrating the flower beds as if Marek’s position wasn’t more than the church gardener. Lynne heard weariness in the pastor’s tone and she wasn’t sure how much was to do with a fussy meddler or Eric’s pensive mood. When Eric asked Marek to take a walk outside, Lynne noted how her pastor moved slowly from his chair, his steps like lead weights had been attached to his feet. The men didn’t return until it was dark outside and Jane was almost asleep. Marek blew her a kiss as Lynne took the baby upstairs. When a mother left the nursery, she found the office light shining down the hallway. The pastor and Eric were again in deep discussion, over what Lynne assumed were some of the recent letters from Scandinavian. She had made out postmarks from Norway, but maybe Marek could better discern those that neither Lynne nor Eric could distinguish.
That morning Eric had spoken to Stanford strictly about the exhibit, which was moving soon to Sweden. How fluent was Marek in those tongues, Lynne wondered, as she went downstairs into the kitchen. She started the dishes and by the time the drainer was full, Marek stepped into the room. “Your husband’s right behind me,” Marek smiled. “My goodness that’s a lot of post to answer.”
Lynne nodded, then removed the rubber gloves. She glanced at the clock; it was nearly ten p.m. Usually Marek didn’t stay so late, but Lynne didn’t question it. “I asked him yesterday if he wanted me to act as secretary, he said he wasn’t sure.” She didn’t mind saying something so blatant to Marek; in a way, Lynne relished being able to speak about what was coming. Never before had she been given the opportunity to do so.
Before rumbled through her head, then she smiled, walking toward Marek, who stood near the table. He didn’t know how this kitchen used to look, how the whole home had once appeared. But as he was privy to the biggest secret Eric and Lynne concealed, maybe Lynne expected that of course Marek could also view this residence with a similar gaze. Maybe he could imagine how Sam had stood in the smaller version of this room, dripping water on the linoleum, furious at how Lynne had convinced Renee that Eric turned into a….
“I suppose the letters will pile up,” Marek said softly, interrupting Lynne’s thoughts.
She smiled, then sighed. “I suppose they will. He told me not to worry about them. But I do feel bad for not replying.”
“Don’t fret over it. I’d wager that nearly all who send their regards aren’t expecting the artist to answer them. They might not even imagine the letters would reach their destination. It’s more of the need to respond to how moving are Eric’s paintings. Unfortunately I’m hopeless with Scandinavian languages.” Marek chuckled. “Once the tour goes south, I’ll be more help again.”
“Do you speak Italian?” Lynne asked.
“Oh yes,” he smiled. “Spanish too. But my Portuguese is abysmal.”
Lynne giggled. Eric had given the pastor the full itinerary, or that which remained. The tour had been extended, but as far as Lynne knew, the paintings were due back in America by the end of the year. She didn’t consider where Eric might be then, instead she wondered if Stanford might arrange another New York showing. “I only speak English,” she said. “I must say I feel quite limited.”
“It’s a gift,” Marek smiled. “A blessing that I need to put into use, actually. Eric gave me permission to read the letters, or those I could make out. But he insisted that neither of us were to answer them. He said we’d never get anything else accomplished.”
Marek had gestured to Lynne as he spoke, as Eric had yet to return. Lynne nodded, then gazed to the kitchen doorway. The house was still, perhaps Eric had gone into the nursery to check on Jane. Lynne didn’t worry that he had altered, then fled. She would have heard him, and for some reason Lynne didn’t think Marek needed to witness the transformation. He had no doubt to what was coming. It was simply a matter of time.
Then Lynne heard Eric’s footsteps and she smiled as he entered the kitchen. He looked exhausted, but not pained. Marek’s impromptu visit might be the last time these men saw each other. As the pastor gave his goodbye, Eric offered to walk him out. Marek waved him off, then kissed Lynne’s cheek. He only shook Eric’s hand, then grabbed a tin waiting on the edge of the counter. Half of a peach pie was covered by wax paper, as Marek had discovered a local outlet for fresh peaches. Lynne had frozen many, for Marek had bought an entire bushel. Sam and Renee had taken their share, but the bulk was meant for pies, now and all through autumn.
Lynne wasn’t sure if by the time Eric returned any peaches would be left. Funny were the markers, she thought to herself, returning to the sink for the last forks and spoons in the tub. As she washed those utensils, Lynne considered various manners of counting the days. The coming baby would be the biggest indicator, but she didn’t want to think of all that Eric would miss. Then he stepped to her side, squeezing her shoulders. “I’m going to bed,” he said. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
She turned his way, fatigue evident by the bags under his eyes, lines around his mouth, and those etched in his brow. “I won’t be long. I love you.”
He smiled, then kissed her forehead. “I’ll lock up. I love you too.”
Lynne closed her eyes as he walked away, hearing him rattle the kitchen doorknob, then leave the room. Once he was gone, she took a deep breath, then opened her eyes, staring into gray dishwater. She cleaned out the tubs, propping them upside down in the sink. Then she headed to the doorway and turned off the light. Another day’s work was done.
When she reached the bedroom, she found Eric wasn’t in bed. He wasn’t in their bathroom either. Lynne stepped out on the landing, but the hallway was dark, Jane’s door shut. Then Lynne peered over the banister; was one of the French doors ajar? She went to investigate, and found that yes, it was. As she looked through the panes, she saw her husband sitting at the patio table.
Lynne stepped outside, making Eric turn her direction. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, standing from his chair. He met her, then wrapped her close. “I tried laying down, but my mind’s a blur. I should’ve come into the kitchen, but I….” He paused, then kissed her cheek. “I found myself staring at the door, that one pane’s still noticeable. Not sure how, it’s so dark out tonight. Lots of stars to see.”
Lynne wanted to say that maybe Eric’s vision was already changing. But she nodded, gripping him. Was he truly going away, maybe all of this with Seth was a hoax. They hadn’t even met that man and she was pregnant and…. “Yeah,” she warbled, unable to keep calm. “Lots of stars out tonight.”
All evening, with Marek present, Lynne had felt in control. Now she began to cry, burying her face into Eric’s warm shoulder. He patted her back, placing soothing words in her ears, but they sounded hollow. She wasn’t sure if it was because of how he said them, or how she heard his missives. He would come home, he promised. He loved her and Jane and…. As he set one hand on her belly, Lynne started to bawl. Why, after so many years, was Eric being forcibly taken from their family?
Never before had Lynne needed to consider more than herself during his so
journs. She had weathered those absences perfectly fine, but now there were children in addition to Renee and Sam and Marek. And while all those people would fill Lynne’s mind and heart, her soul yearned for one man. Lynne wept hard for considering that; where was Jesus when she needed him?
“You won’t be alone,” Eric said in a whisper, his tone shaky. “Oh honey, I love you so much. I’m sorry baby, oh Lynne, don’t cry.”
“Why?” she mumbled, feeling guilty for her reservations. Then she pulled away, staring at her husband who, for as close as he stood, was hard to see in the dark. She caressed his face, finding she wasn’t the only one so distressed. Tears had rolled down Eric’s cheeks and she traced that dampness with her fingers. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make this harder on you.”
“I can’t tell you how much I wish I didn’t have to….” He cleared his throat, then sighed. “I started to feel it tonight. We don’t have much time left.”
Fear rippled through Lynne, but she fought to not break into tears again. She also cleared her throat. “Where?”
“All over. That’s why I didn’t come down with Marek. I felt terrible, like I was gonna change while he was still here. He knew something was up, we’d been talking about the exhibit, and suddenly I stopped in mid-sentence. He didn’t ask what was wrong, God, he’s so perceptive.” Eric sighed. “He just got up, saying he was gonna check on you. I know you won’t be alone this time and maybe that’s supposed to help, but honestly all I can think about is….”
He pressed his palm against Lynne’s flat stomach. “I’ve been praying about this baby, asking God why can’t Seth pull himself together, why can’t Laurie find the right doctors? Why me, which is something I asked rhetorically before I met you. Then when I did meet you, it was like, is this possible, should I subject her to all this, this insanity?” Eric huffed, then sighed. “I know why you’re pregnant again, why we had Jane, but I can’t seem to find the necessary compassion to justify what’s being asked of not just me, but you. And what about Jane?” Eric pressed his face alongside his wife’s. “Will she remember me even?”
Lynne nodded. “She will, of course she will.”
“Maybe,” he said, pulling away, but not moving his hand from Lynne’s belly. “I can’t make the same pledge with this baby as I did with Jane, and that rips me apart. I knew I’d be here for you then, but I can’t say that now. And I know I’m supposed to trust in God, how many times did I throw that in Sam’s face last summer? I told him that not even Christ was spared, and here I am, bellyaching about being away from you and our daughter, oh jeez.” Eric kicked up some gravel, then stepped back from Lynne. “This’s nuts, you realize that? How am I supposed to help Seth at all, what can I say or do or….”
Lynne didn’t look at her husband, but up to the heavens, which were dotted with a multitude of stars. She closed her eyes, but those bright speckles lingered under her lids like she had stared directly into the sun. Yet these twinkles were gentler, there was no harshness. She inhaled that notion as a hint of peace entered her heart. Breathing deeply, she brought more of that calm into her body, for she needed plenty. Yet this balm didn’t need to be shared with the coming baby; it was exclusively for Lynne’s soul.
She smiled, opened her eyes, then walked toward her husband. She reached for his hand, placing it between her breasts. “I know so little,” she began, that calm permeating her tone. “I look up and all those stars make me feel pretty small. I’ve been trying to be rational about this, trying to be calm, trying to pray, but now, tonight, oh Eric, I love you and no, I don’t want you leaving. And you’re right about what you told Sam last year. But it’s one thing to have all the answers when the threat isn’t directed your way. Now it’s all around us. And I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t been giving this up enough either.” She sighed, then kissed her husband with passion. As she pulled away, she placed her hand along his face. “If I tell you now that we have to trust, you won’t think I’m being facetious, will you?”
“Oh my God no. I need all the reminders I can get.”
His tone was light, which made Lynne giggle. “I feel like even more than when you came home right before Christmas I’m being asked to give you up again. That’s what it is, but I’ve been ignoring just how much I’m being asked to trust. Before….” Lynne paused, then swallowed hard. “There I go again, before this and before that, but now before means something else. And maybe that’s the biggest unknown. What comes next neither of us can fathom. And I don’t just mean you going away. You never had to do more for your father than listen to him, and yeah, that’s all you’re gonna do with Seth, but it wasn’t about saving your father’s life.” Lynne inhaled, accepting the weight of that statement. Then she exhaled. “Not that whether Seth lives or dies is up to you, but that’s the reason you’re going. Or it’s one of the reasons. There’re more I know, but what they are is as mysterious as all those stars. Hopefully not as numerous.” Lynne kissed her husband again, but this time it was a gentle peck on his cheek. Then she took his hand from her chest, setting it again on their baby. “How many miracles Eric, how many? Maybe every breath we take is one, certainly this child is. You’ve given me another child honey. And while I want you here, I have you here.” She pressed his hand against her skin. “I know that’s small comfort to you now and I’m sorry but I, I….” She started to weep, so mixed were her emotions. Peace flowed through Lynne, yet she felt unable to share it with her husband.
Not even through lovemaking could Lynne proffer what now flooded her heart, and she wept for that most of all. Eric wrapped himself around her, but his arms were cool. She gripped him, wishing he could sense her ease, which she allowed might wane in the coming days. But at that moment Lynne could bear the misgivings that had plagued her since Seth tried to kill himself. If that man succeeded, a great loss would occur, one that Lynne felt had to be avoided at all costs. If Eric missed their baby’s birth, as long as Seth was on the road to recovery, Lynne wouldn’t argue. But how Eric felt was out of her hands.
Yet standing beside him, under the starry sky, she wondered if maybe peace was being shared. His breathing was even, his hands no longer chilled. Then he kissed her and as she responded, perhaps he was finding relief. They necked for several minutes, Lynne the one to break away. She wanted him, but not there on the patio. “Shall we go inside?” she asked softly.
He was quiet and Lynne wondered if he’d heard her. As he gripped her hand, motioning toward the garden, she knew his answer. They walked to the studio, but Lynne didn’t worry that Jane would wake. Under the stars the couple made love on a sofa that had served them well previously. They remained there for another hour as in the darkness Eric prayed aloud, beseeching his savior for the calm Lynne possessed. Her prayers were spoken inwardly, asking on Eric’s behalf for that same peace.
Chapter 119
The Hawk: Part Six Page 21