Read The Hawk: Part Eight Page 7


  Before Lynne left, she asked if she could do Sam’s shopping. At first he refused, but Lynne laughed, said it was only fair. Once the Snyder ladies departed with a list, Sam called his brother Ted, seeking prayers and advice. Ted knew of a good lawyer, one of his parishioners. Sam had that man’s name and phone number and if Renee was amenable, they would call him tomorrow.

  Lynne and Jane dropped off groceries and Sam put away the perishables, then he vacuumed the two spare bedrooms. Maybe they would put both children in one, just until they were comfortable. He gazed at the stark walls, wishing Eric was around; he could paint a vibrant mural for…. Sam shook his head. He didn’t know Ann or Paul’s middle names or their birthdays, yet he ached to see them again, how could such a strong tie be forged in one evening? Then he shook his head; he’d felt drawn to these children since learning their parents were…. How would they accept moving to another house, then living with strangers only because someone told them these people were now their mommy and daddy. Children from an orphanage would have been so much easier, for they would have clung to this news, and while a period of adjustment still would have occurred, the transition would be less traumatic. Plus, Ann was so little. Sam and Renee had decided that five was the youngest age they would consider. Sam closed his eyes, recalling Ann’s hair along Renee’s shoulder. Would Ann remember her real mother? Then Sam shivered. Renee was Ann’s real mother. He knew that like he knew his name.

  The ringing telephone stirred Sam from his reverie. He ran to the kitchen. “Hello?” he said somewhat breathlessly into the receiver.

  Immediately tears were heard on the other end. “Sam, it’s Vivian. Can you come over?”

  “I’ll be right there.” He hung up, relieved that Vivian had spoken calmly. But Ann sounded terribly distraught, and Sam hoped Paul wasn’t equally upset. Grabbing his keys and wallet, Sam headed to his front door, locking it behind him. He got into the old car, backed out slowly, then drove with care to the end of his street. He looked both ways at the stop sign, then he floored it, only one place on his mind.

  When he reached Vivian’s house, he didn’t bother to knock, having heard Ann’s shrieks as soon as he exited his car. Yet for one moment he hesitated, wondering if his presence would actually improve the situation. If nothing else, Vivian wouldn’t be alone, and Sam opened the door, finding Ann in Vivian’s arms, although the girl was again squirming to be set down. But Paul was seated on the sofa and he smiled at Sam, that same book in the boy’s hands.

  A wave of peace settled all through Sam, then he faced Vivian. “Here, let me have her.”

  “Good luck,” Vivian sighed. “She’s been miserable all morning.”

  Sam wanted to know if Ann had asked for her mother, although he didn’t mean Renee. But Sam remained quiet, placing Ann against his shoulder, stroking her hair. She still struggled, but her cries lessened, and within a minute she was merely sniffling. Sam wondered if Jesus was standing behind him soothing this child, or maybe Josh Bradley was close, calling to Ann in his easy southern drawl. Sam whispered Ann’s name, and that it would be all right. Then he found Vivian’s gaze, or rather her gaping mouth. As Paul asked Sam to join him, Sam nodded at Vivian, then he gave a small shrug. Vivian smiled. “You want some coffee?” she said softly.

  “Yes please.” Then Sam looked at Paul, who still held the book. “Do you think you can read it to your sister?”

  Paul looked surprised, then nodded. “I can try.”

  “That’s all any of us can do.” Sam chuckled as he spoke, walking to the sofa while Ann remained nestled against his shoulder. Sitting beside Paul, Sam considered putting Ann on his lap, but she seemed happy where she was. She wasn’t heavy, a little younger than Helene, and she felt so good leaning against him, how Jane felt when she rested there. Yet in the back of Sam’s head Jane had never seemed this…permanent. She was Lynne and Eric’s baby, but Ann was definitely an Ahern.

  Ann Ahern, Paul Ahern; Sam rolled those names through his head, then looked up at Vivian, who carried two mugs. She placed Sam’s in the middle of the coffee table, but didn’t relinquish her own. She sat on the sofa, and as she did, Ann stiffened. “It’s okay,” Sam crooned softly. Ann relaxed, then sniffled again.

  “She woke up asking for….” Vivian mouthed Renee. Then Vivian smiled. “She didn’t say her name though.”

  For a second, Sam didn’t understand. Then he gave Vivian a curious stare. “How do you know she meant….”

  Vivian just nodded, then took a deep breath. As she exhaled, Ann snuggled against Sam’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, wondering why this was happening so…. Easily, seamlessly, as though this was how children were absorbed from one family to another. Ann lifted her head, looking at her aunt, but only for a moment. Then she met Sam’s eyes, and he lost his breath. The tiniest smile sat on her face, and her irises, while blue, looked pale in comparison to her brother’s. Ann’s appeared more grey, like those of…. Sam blinked, but Ann’s gaze remained on him, those blue-grey eyes large in her little face. It must be her hair, he thought, which hung past her shoulders, a little longer than Jane’s, but thicker, with less of a wave. Her nose was but a smidgen between rosy cheeks, her mouth still in that half-grin. “Hello,” Sam said softly. “How are you today?”

  She didn’t answer, although Paul piped up. “She’s been a crab all morning.”

  Sam looked that boy’s way. “She has, huh? I wonder why.”

  “She missed you and your….” Paul fiddled with the book’s cover. “What’s your name again?”

  Sam glanced at Vivian, wondering if she had said anything to either child. She looked slightly nervous, then she shrugged. “Paul, this is Sam, and his wife’s name is Renee. But….” Vivian paused, cleared her throat, then continued. “Paul, Sam and Renee would like to take you and Ann home with them, to live with them.”

  Once again Ann buried her head against Sam’s shoulder while Paul set the book on the coffee table, then stood from the sofa. He was smaller than Johnny, his brown hair cut short, but a cowlick in front might be the reason. Sam studied the youngster, who was staring right at Sam. The boy’s eyes were the same color as Jane’s, which made Sam blink. Looking again, the hue was unmistakable. Freckles dotted Paul’s face, now with a serious gaze. “Why do you want us to come live with you?” he asked in a solemn voice.

  “Because….” Sam felt as if he was peering into a mirror. It was Paul’s eyes, he knew, but the cowlick seemed familiar, not that Sam recalled having a cowlick. He’d been bald for so many years, but maybe when he was this child’s age he’d had one; he’d have to ask his mother or Frannie. Then Sam smiled. “We know about your folks,” Sam said softly, stroking Ann’s head. “We also know that it’s hard when you feel alone. My wife and I don’t have any children, but we have lots of brothers and sisters with kids, so we know how good it is to be in a big family. We’d like to make you a part of our family, if you’d like that.”

  Ann said nothing, but she gripped the side of Sam’s arm so hard it felt more like a pinch. Sam wasn’t sure if that was intentional, but she didn’t lift her head, seemed to be rubbing her nose against his shirt. Sam wondered if their old washing machine would be up to the task, more laundry another consideration. Then he gazed at Paul, who seemed to be mulling over Sam’s statement. Then the boy sighed, looking past Sam at Vivian. “Do you not want us here?”

  “Oh Paul, I do. But Sam and Renee….”

  “We love you,” Sam blurted. Then he sighed inwardly. “Maybe that sounds strange, I mean, we just met last night. But….” Sam looked at the little boy, who didn’t remind Sam of Robbie Carver. Paul’s hair was brown, but the cowlick was so singular, and his eyes made Sam glance at the floor. But he felt the weight of Paul’s gaze. Their eyes met and Sam blinked away tears as he reached for Paul’s hand. Gently Sam squeezed those small fingers and within seconds Paul reciprocated. “I know it’s been very hard for you and your sister recently. Lots has changed, but we’d like to take you to our house to
live.” Sam smiled as Paul again gripped his hand. “Do you like custard?”

  “What’s that?” Paul said.

  “Well, it’s like pudding. I like to cook and it’s something I fix for dessert.”

  “I’ve never had it.” Paul released Sam’s hand, then folded his arms over his chest. “Is it good?”

  “Mine is very good,” Sam smiled.

  Ann looked up, then stared at Sam. “Do you make ice cream? I like ice cream.”

  Vivian stifled a giggle while Sam shook his head, trying to keep a straight face. He also wanted to somehow record this moment, wishing Renee was there. “I’ve never made ice cream, but we could try. What kind of ice cream do you like?”

  “Strawberry.” Ann’s tone was definitive. Then she furrowed her brow. “Where’s….”

  She looked around the room, glancing briefly at Vivian, then staring again at Sam. “Where is she?”

  “You mean my wife, Renee?” Sam trembled inwardly.

  Slowly Ann nodded, then she shook her head. “No, my….”

  She placed her head against Sam’s shoulder, then she whimpered. Sam wasn’t sure what she meant, or rather for which mother was she searching. He glanced at Vivian, who shrugged, then Sam gazed at Paul, who had picked up the book, paging through it. Sam again caressed Ann’s hair, it was even the same texture of Renee’s. He ached to know which mother Ann wanted, Beth, he was certain. Yet, Ann peered up, then looked at Sam. “Is Renee my mama?”

  Her voice was a soft wind that had sometimes blown over Sam’s weary face in the middle of battle, easing his racing heart, cooling his fiery temper. It was the tone of an angel, he had thought back then, ministering to him in a most desperate moment. Sam had never questioned those small miracles, for he knew fully well God worked in mysterious ways. Similarly, Sam didn’t hesitate now. “Yes, Renee’s your mama and she loves you very much. She’s at work right now, but when you come live with us, she’ll be home to take care of you. You too Paul. And I’ll be home a lot, and we’ll make custard together.”

  “And ice cream,” Paul added. “I like chocolate.”

  “I like chocolate too.” Sam smiled. “Do you like pie?”

  Ann had been ready to set her head back on Sam’s shoulder, but she leaned up, then stared at him. “Who makes pie?”

  Paul laughed. “Ann loves pie. Our….” The little boy grew teary. Then he plopped onto the floor, putting his head in his hands.

  Vivian stood, then collected Paul, who was now crying. They sat beside Sam and Ann, but Paul didn’t move from his aunt’s grasp. “Beth baked,” Vivian whispered.

  “But she’s dead,” Paul warbled. Then he looked at Sam. “Are you gonna die too?”

  “Someday.” Sam took a breath, then let it out slowly. “But I’m here today and Renee will come over after work and for as long as we live, we’ll take care of you.” He wanted to be more lyrical, yet they were so young. Then Sam thought of Johnny, who had cried over the twins, sometimes remarking to Sam that he would see them again. But Sam didn’t know if Paul had any knowledge of heaven. Suddenly parenthood took on deeper meaning; it wasn’t merely within this corporeal realm that Sam and Renee would care for these children. “One day we’ll all be together in a place so beautiful and perfect. Right now we can make this day as wonderful as can be, even though I know there’s parts that hurt.” Sam reached for Paul’s face, streaked with tears. As Sam wiped away that wetness, a sting pierced his heart. But this wasn’t like consoling Jane or any of his other young relatives. This was the first pang of fatherhood, realizing he couldn’t erase the ills his children would suffer. One of the biggest had occurred even before he had the capacity to soothe it.

  “But what if, what if….” Paul tried to hold back sobs, then he turned to his aunt, burying his face against her.

  Sam inhaled, praying as he did so. Exhaling, he spoke the words placed upon his heart. “Paul, all we can do is be together today. Then we’ll wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. There’s a school just a few blocks from where Renee and I live. We’ll walk there together, and I’ll be waiting when you get out, then we’ll walk home again. And Ann can join us and….”

  “And what about Mama?” Ann asked. “Will she be there too?”

  Paul looked at his sister, uncertainty in his eyes. “She’s not our mama.”

  “She’s my mama,” Ann said, glaring at her brother.

  Sam had to bite his tongue for the brassiness of Ann’s tone, also the defiance of Paul’s. Gazing at the little boy, he also saw the desire to believe what Ann took as fact. Then Paul sighed. “They’re not coming back, are they?”

  Vivian stroked Paul’s head. “No, they’re not. But Sam and Renee love you very much.”

  “Sam and Mama,” Ann said.

  “It’s Mama and Daddy.” Paul corrected his sister, then he stared at Sam. “Are you sure about tomorrow?”

  “I’m as sure as I can be. I have to trust that God will take care of all of us.”

  Paul nodded, then looked at his aunt. “Who’s God?”

  Vivian rolled her eyes, making Sam smile. “That’s a long story. I’m sure Sam and Renee can tell you all about it, I mean him.” Vivian tried to smooth down Paul’s cowlick, but it sprang right back up. “Listen, tonight you’ll sleep here, Sam and Renee need to get their house ready for you both.”

  “No, I want Mama, I want….” Ann began to cry.

  Sam pulled her close, rocking her back and forth. He looked toward Vivian, who shrugged, as if it was Sam’s call. “We don’t have beds for you yet. But we’ll be here today, well, Renee will come over after work. How about Aunt Vivian and I show you the house today? And we can walk to the school, and I have custard at home, I made it this morning. You can try it and tell me what you think.” Sam’s heart throbbed, but he smiled. “Then tomorrow night you can sleep at our house.” He wasn’t sure how he would buy beds if he was here all day, but perhaps if Ann napped later, Sam could run to the furniture store. He needed to call Stanford and that lawyer and….

  But first, he needed to embrace his children, as Paul scrambled from Vivian’s arms, muscling his way onto Sam’s lap. Ann protested, but Paul ignored her, scooting to Sam’s other side. The boy curled against Sam as Ann quieted, then both children began to weep, yet the sound wasn’t painful. Sam comforted them with strong embraces and verbal reassurances; he loved them and couldn’t wait to take them home. One more day, Sam promised. Then Paul and Ann would go home.

  Chapter 143