Read The Hawk: Part Eight Page 2


  On Saturday morning, Laurie woke to feminine voices, reminding him of living at home. He smiled, a long time since he’d thought about being surrounded by all women, his father usually having left for work before Laurie rose for school. He took a quick shower, then found Lynne and Jane in the kitchen, finishing breakfast. Jane babbled at him, and seeing she was done, he collected her from the high chair, placing her on his lap as Lynne stood, pouring him some coffee. “What can I fix for you?” she said.

  “Nothing more than a slice of peach pie.” Laurie smiled, stroking Jane’s long curls, but keeping her away from his coffee cup. “How long’ve you been up?”

  “Not long, she slept in and so did I.” Lynne brought the plate and a fork to the table, but placed those items in the center. She sat near her guest and daughter, who seemed very pleased for a new admirer. “You’re not gonna get much pie eaten with her on your lap.”

  “I don’t mind sharing, unless you don’t want her having any.”

  “When it comes to pie, Jane doesn’t really grasp the concept of sharing.” Lynne relieved Laurie of baby duty and Jane protested as she watched him tuck into his breakfast. Laurie laughed while Lynne stood. “I’ll get her dressed while you eat. Then we can talk about today’s plans.”

  Laurie nodded as the ladies left the room. He had no idea what Lynne wanted to do, other than they were having dinner at the Aherns’ that evening. He thought about calling Stan, but decided against it. Better to say as little as possible to him, plus Stanford might think something was wrong if Laurie contacted him now. Stan would expect a call on Monday, confirming Laurie’s flight times for Tuesday. Laurie didn’t want to mesh those two worlds, how he thought of his life now. His New York existence and this western universe needed to remain far apart. Thank goodness the rest of America sat between the coasts.

  When Lynne and Jane reappeared, both mother and daughter were dressed for the day. “So, what do you wanna do?” Laurie asked, wiping his mouth, then sipping his coffee. “Do you need groceries or other shopping done? Put me to work,” he chuckled.

  “Well, I need to bake another pie, maybe two. I think it’s just us and Marek at their house tonight. If pie’s gonna be your morning staple, definitely two.” She winked at him, then handed Jane his way. She babbled, but Laurie discerned pie as one of her words. Lynne did too, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Maybe another peach and a pumpkin, it’s nearly the season for it.”

  Laurie bounced Jane on his knee, feeling very at home within this space. It was almost like Agatha had stepped out for a moment, Lynne filling in for her. “Will you make a sweet potato pie while I’m here?” he asked, lost in the joy he’d known back in April. Stan and Eric might not be close, then Laurie shivered; the next time Stan visited would probably be when the baby arrived. If Eric was human again, there wouldn’t be any issues, but what if….

  “Laurie, Laurie?”

  Lynne now knelt in front of him, her hand on his cheek, stirring Laurie from his thoughts. Had Lynne answered him about the pie, what had he missed? He felt sick inside, wondering just how split was his life. “Oh Lynne, Jesus, I’m sorry, I was just thinking about….” But he couldn’t speak, setting Jane to the floor. He rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Splashing water on his face, he took deep breaths, staring at his image in the mirror. This was his face, but his short haircut added to the sense of displacement. Or rather, how odd Stan would be here, not knowing what everyone else took as fact.

  When he rejoined Lynne and Jane, mother was toting her daughter as Jane sang something, yet the language wasn’t English. Lynne didn’t sing along, but the tune was merry, and Laurie came to their sides. “What’s she singing?” he asked.

  “Something Marek taught her. Well, he sings it all the time and she’s picked it up. It’s a lullaby, that I know.” Lynne faced Laurie, then handed Jane to him. “Are you all right?”

  “I dunno. I asked you about sweet potato pie, then….” He sighed, but Jane didn’t notice his glum mood, still singing her song. Laurie began to smile, unable to hide it. “God, she’s hilarious. Brings out the best in anyone.”

  “She does.” Lynne looked wistful, then she raised her eyebrows. “I answered you that of course I’d love to make a sweet potato pie. Marek will think you read his mind. Laurie, it’s okay you know. This takes time.”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands in the pockets of an apron she now wore. Laurie stared at her; she didn’t look like Agatha, but she projected that same maternal authority, although with Lynne it wasn’t as ingrained, probably because she’d been a mother for less than two years. Yet another role hovered, that of a nurse, which she had been for a long time. Then he felt humbled; not only had she cared for patients, but her own husband. She had written to Laurie that for years they had tried to have a child, but her long-held hopes had borne more than their daughter. In between the lines Lynne had sown the seeds for the truth Laurie was now facing, yet only now could he discern that miracle. “You tried to tell me about this in that letter you wrote earlier this year. After I read it, I didn’t really think about it until Stan’s funk got so bad. But you didn’t mean Stan, you meant Seth.”

  Lynne nodded. “Yeah, but Stanford needed you too. We didn’t know how he was.”

  “How bad he was, you mean.”

  She gripped Laurie’s hand. “I appreciated your honesty after that. And while I know it’s uncomfortable, I’m glad you know now.” She picked fluff from her apron, then met his eyes. “I also know how hard it’ll be when you go home, believe me, I understand.”

  “Is that why you want me to tell him?” Laurie’s mouth felt dry, and he couldn’t mention Stan’s name.

  “It’s one of the reasons. And I do understand how hard it’ll be for him to even begin to accept it. There’s nothing easy about any part of it, Sam didn’t fully believe until he watched it happen. And then….” She sighed. “Then it’s like living a new life, it’s like….” She smiled. “It’s like believing in God, which probably sounds very improper, but that’s one way to equate it.” Then Lynne shook her head. “Maybe you’re right, putting it that way, not that I’m any judge to Stanford’s state of faith, but….”

  Laurie chuckled. “That’s pretty apt.” Laurie sighed, then kissed the back of Jane’s head. “But he loves this little girl here, hates admitting it, but he does. He admires the hell out of Eric, and you too, and that’s the biggest reason I can’t tell him. You’ve all wormed your way into his heart, which is the last thing he ever wanted. If he knew about Eric….”

  Lynne nodded, twisting the hem of her apron. “It was the last thing Sam ever wanted to believe, it went against everything his faith stood for. I never thought he’d forgive me, to tell you the truth. And until the day he saw Eric change, I knew he still thought I was crazy, even though Eric confirmed everything once he came home. Maybe that’s the biggest reason not to tell him.”

  “Whatdya mean?” Laurie asked.

  “He’d think we’d all concocted this to shut him out. You’re right, we have sort of gotten under his skin.” Lynne wore a small smile, then smoothed Jane’s hair from her face. “Spending time with you all in April was so lovely, I felt like I got to see the man behind the art dealer.” Lynne chuckled, joined by Laurie. “Eric so badly wanted to sketch you two together, and that last day, when you were looking for an extra suitcase, would’ve been perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Stanford dressed so casually.”

  Laurie nodded. “We talked about it later, or rather I brought it up, but he didn’t argue. But now….” Laurie shook his head. “He can’t know Lynne, it would, Jesus, I can’t even imagine how he’d try to argue about something so….”

  “Inexplicable,” Lynne offered.

  “Yeah. If it’s not black, it better be white. But I knew that when….” Now Laurie smiled broadly. “When I met him. And the funniest part is our relationship is all grey. But he totally overlooks that, goes right on with his day. And I love him th
at way. I fell in love with him that way and by God Lynne, after everything he’s gone through this year, I just can’t….”

  Laurie blinked away tears, which Lynne subtly wiped away. She kissed his cheek, then squeezed his hand. Then she pulled a can of sweet potatoes from the cupboard, telling Jane how happy Uncle Marek would be after dinner that night.

  While Lynne baked, Laurie and Jane trekked about in the garden; he admired the new boysenberry plants, which had grown from how Lynne had described them in letters from earlier in the year. Laurie thought much about their correspondence as Jane led him near the birdbath which bubbled, along to the patio, where she tried to climb into a chair. He also considered Lynne’s words about Sam when Jane ran toward the studio, the uncompleted portrait in full view. Laurie hoisted Jane in the air, then settled her on his hip as he admired that piece, finding how Eric had initially painted Sam with his hands thrust into his pockets. Not that this pose, with Sam’s hands guarding his chest, was any less foreboding, but why had Eric changed the position of Sam’s arms? Then Laurie wondered about the Aherns adopting a child. Lynne had inferred those plans were in flux, and as Laurie turned back to the house, he set Jane to the ground. She ran ahead of him, laughing wildly, her brown hair flying behind her. She wasn’t a baby anymore and Laurie’s heart ached for all Eric was missing.

  The sweet potato pie was cooling on the counter, but the oven timer ticked, and Laurie inhaled deeply, unable to tell what else Lynne had made. He asked Jane if she knew, but she only repeated the word pie. When Lynne joined them, she relieved Laurie of his charge, but kept mum about the pie. “It’s a surprise,” she smiled, putting Jane in a tall seat that Laurie had seen in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Is that new?” Laurie asked, sitting near Jane. She leaned toward him, but didn’t seem to require his support.

  “Fran brought it over a few weeks ago, said Helene had outgrown it. Since you’re here, I don’t need to keep as close of an eye on her, plus she’s nearly too big for the high chair now.”

  Laurie sighed inwardly, again feeling that ache. “Well, probably good to get her used to it now.”

  Lynne nodded, then brought them each a slice of peach pie. She sat next to Laurie, but watched Jane. “I need to start thinking about moving her out of the crib. Although,” Lynne paused for a bite of pie, chewing slowly. Then she took a drink of water. “The baby will be in our room for a while, maybe I don’t need to move her until after Eric comes back.”

  Laurie listened to not only Lynne’s words, but her tone, which was as if Eric was actually on an artist’s sabbatical. “Lots of things I never considered,” he said softly.

  She looked at him. “It’s funny, because before he left, we didn’t talk about these issues. But now, well….” She patted her baby. “There’s no stopping the inevitable. I know he misses us, thank you for passing along my message. Don’t think I haven’t considered flying out there. But I need to let him do that work, goodness knows I have enough here to keep me busy.”

  Her voice remained stoic, but Laurie’s stomach hurt. He took deep breaths as when he’d stepped into the bathroom, then wondered if indeed this was real. He gazed around the room, then smelled the pie on the counter. It was the same scent as he recalled from when Lynne had made it in Manhattan. Then she gripped his hand, making him close his eyes. This wasn’t a dream. He looked her way, felt she wanted him to make eye contact. If he did, what would that signify?

  “Laurie, if you don’t wanna go to dinner tonight, Sam and Renee will understand.”

  Now Laurie smiled. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Read minds.”

  Lynne giggled. “I was a nurse for years, not to mention the wife of a very gifted painter. And while I don’t quite have eyes in the back of my head….” Lynne reached across, taking Jane’s empty plate, upon which she was about to whack with her spoon. “I can feel them growing. By the time this baby arrives, I’ll probably have them, just in time I think.”

  Jane protested, but only until Lynne gave her daughter a sharp stare. Laurie tried not to laugh, for he didn’t want to undermine Lynne’s authority. Jane pouted, then smiled as Lynne stood, offering Jane a plain-looking cookie. “She eats these at St. Matthew’s when Mrs. Kenny and Marek watch her. One piece of pie is enough for now. Goodness knows how much she’ll get tonight.”

  “Is Sam or Renee the biggest offender?” Laurie asked, assuming Renee would be the soft touch.

  “Marek’s the worst,” Lynne smiled, “and Jane knows it. You watch, she’ll want on his lap as soon as Sam serves dessert.”

  Laurie nodded, then having finished his pie, he took Jane from her chair, snuggling her close. “So what’s up with the Aherns adopting a child?”

  He’d wanted to ask before they left, but hadn’t thought Jane needed to be excluded from that conversation. Yet Lynne felt otherwise, as she stood, mentioning it was naptime. Jane seemed to understand that word, for she protested slightly, then wearily slumped over her mother’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” Lynne said to Laurie. Then the women left the room.

  Laurie gathered the dishes, but left Lynne’s as pie remained. He returned to his seat, noting the quiet. What did Lynne do while Jane napped, probably caught some rest at the same time. The more pregnant she became, the more sleep she would need; how often did Sam come over to help, Laurie wondered, or Fran Canfield, although she would have her youngest in tow. When Lynne returned, Laurie was lost in thought, but he turned her way as she cleared her throat. “Let’s go outside. It’s a nice day, not sure how many more of those we’ll have.”

  They sat at the patio table, but Lynne left one of the sunroom doors ajar. She sat closest to the doors, while Laurie seated himself with the house in view. He glanced up at one of his bedroom windows, the curtain fluttering in the small crack he’d left open. Jane’s window was shut, the curtains closed.

  As Lynne began to speak, Laurie paid attention, not wishing to make her repeat anything. The Aherns did have a few children’s dossiers from an orphanage several hours away. As far as Lynne knew, they were still reviewing those files. Yet, her voice took on a more poignant tone as she told Laurie about the Hamilton family, or rather, two orphans. Lynne wasn’t sure if those children and their aunt had returned from Colorado, but she knew they were due to arrive soon. Then Laurie grasped what Lynne left unstated, nodding in agreement. Why he felt so aligned to Lynne’s idea, he wasn’t sure, other than probably because his relatively open mind had been blown wide apart in the last few weeks. Maybe some might think it strange, crass even, but why shouldn’t the Aherns consider caring for that little girl and boy?

  “Perhaps their aunt will remain their guardian.” Lynne caressed her baby as she spoke. “But she’s not a young woman, not that age is a deterrent. It’s just a feeling I have,” Lynne added. “Maybe I’m biased right now,” she smiled, still with her hands on the baby. “But I’ve been praying for them, keeps my mind occupied.”

  “My God how terrible, but maybe you’re right.” Laurie shivered, although the sun felt warm on his back, glinting off the windows, making him squint. Then he stared at the closed French door, Jane’s small fingerprints marking several of the panes. But one up high caught his attention, it seemed clearer than the rest. Laurie went to inspect it, squatting by the door. It wasn’t that no fingerprints marred the glass; others near it were devoid of Jane’s handiwork. It was simply a newer piece of glass, yet now it stuck out like a sore thumb.

  He stood, then walked back to his seat, still noting that one pane. Then he stared at Lynne. “Did I miss something again?”

  She shook her head, that mysterious grin again on her face. “No, you found it.”

  “What?”

  “You tell me.”

  Laurie gazed at her; she sounded like her husband. Pointing to the door, Laurie sighed. “One of the panes is new, or newer than the others. What happened?”

  “Do you really wanna know?”

  He
sat down, then leaned forward. “I guess I do.”

  As Lynne explained why that pane had been replaced, Laurie swallowed back bile which had crept up his throat, nearly making its way onto the ground. He gripped the armrests when she mentioned Renee, then he stood abruptly, facing the studio, which no longer was bordered by trees. Yet, that had been where Eric had landed, again with Renee as a witness of sorts. Now that ground was lumpy grass, bordered by boysenberry vines. Lynne lamented that proper sod had yet to be laid, but hopefully next summer Eric would contact the same gardeners who had fashioned the new patio. Speaking of these contrasting details, her voice remained flat, but Laurie wasn’t sure how she maintained her sanity. It was as if Lynne was two people, or maybe, like she had said earlier, her youth when first learning about Eric had permitted her to blend such farfetched notions into an acceptable reality. It was how Seth had allowed himself to…. Laurie turned around, staring at Lynne. “How are you sitting there, why aren’t you in a mental hospital?”

  Now her face changed, she wasn’t at all smug. “I don’t know, other than I’ve been so greatly blessed.”

  Quickly he approached her, for she was now crying. Kneeling beside her, Laurie put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, oh Lynne, I didn’t mean to infer….”

  “No, you’re right,” she warbled. Then she looked into the sky. “It’s madness, I mean, what I just told you, what Seth told you, for how Laurie, how and why does he turn into a….” Her lip trembled as Laurie pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Handing it to her, she dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose. Then she smiled. “Thanks.” Lynne took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “All I know is that he turns into something completely impossible, but then he comes home and he’s Eric again. Even after five months he made it back, and when he did….” Now she smiled. “His foot, then our baby, and now this baby. Laurie, there is a God, and why he does this to my husband, I do not know. Why he sent Seth and Sam and how many others to war, I can’t tell you that either. But these things are for some purpose. Maybe we’ll never know why, we certainly won’t with Eric, but as long as he keeps coming home, keeps turning back into the man I love, I can’t ask for more than that. I just have to keep the faith, that’s all I know to do.”

  As her words ended, her sobs began. Laurie gripped her tightly, uncertain about many things. Yet one concrete notion beat in his head and throbbed in his heart; there was a God and this woman indeed had faith. And woe to anyone wishing to tell her otherwise.

  Chapter 138