After Laurie talked to his mom, he called Michael Taylor. They spoke briefly, but Laurie was glad to have made the overture; Michael didn’t ask how long Laurie would be at the Snyders, but he told Laurie to give Lynne his best, and that he hoped Laurie would be home soon. The way Michael enunciated home soon led Laurie to believe Stanford could hear everything his father said. Laurie told Michael he’d return to New York when Eric was back safely. Michael reiterated that part of the message, making Laurie stifle a chuckle as well as inwardly shiver. Right before Michael closed the call, he paused. “Will you be watching the President’s address this evening?”
For a second, Laurie pictured John Kennedy seated in front of the official seal, then he shook his head. “What? Johnson’s giving a speech tonight?”
“Yes, at six fifteen Eastern Time. It sounds like all the networks will be broadcasting it.”
“Well, that would be three fifteen here. I’ll mention it to Sam, I think he wants to eat around two.”
“We’ll be thinking of you all then,” Michael said.
“We’ll be thinking of you too.” Laurie wore a bittersweet smile. “Give him my best, all right?”
“Of course. And Laurie, happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving Michael.” Laurie hung up the receiver, then stared at the phone. He turned toward Lynne, who wore a quizzical gaze. “Seems the new president’s giving a speech on television tonight.”
“Well, that’ll be something to see.” Lynne smiled. “Was he there?”
Laurie chuckled. “I think so. God, I love that man, both of them,” he added. “Michael’s father was….” Laurie paused, then told the story. Lynne looked greatly surprised, then she giggled, and Laurie joined her. “So while Michael and Constance weren’t exactly jumping for joy when Stan introduced me, a precedent had already been set. Plus it wasn’t like we were gonna get married. Better for Stan to fall in love with a Jewish man than a Jewish woman.”
Now Lynne laughed out loud. “Well, when you put it like that, what else is there to say?”
“Exactly, and to tell you the truth, I’m sure my mother felt the same.” Laurie wiped his eyes, but the tears weren’t from sorrow. “Good lord, that’s a lot to ponder after everything else that’s happened.”
Lynne nodded, taking a seat next to Jane. “But you know, like I said it’s been a very long week. We’ll never forget these days, but after today, I’m ready for something different, something good.” She sighed, then looked at her belly. “Not you, you hear? You still have a few weeks to stay right where you are.”
Laurie stood behind Lynne. “You tell that baby. And as for my sweetheart, if I don’t see him until Junior arrives, there you go.” Laurie sighed, then smiled, gazing at the counter where the sweet potato pie cooled. “So, what’s the other pie?”
Lynne chuckled. “Apple-peach-boysenberry.”
“Jesus Christ, we’ll never forget that either!” Laurie laughed. “All right, on that note, I’ll take a quick shower, then if you wanna bathe, I’ll watch Jane. No promises though if you find a slice of the sweet potato missing.”
“I’ll tell Agatha on you,” Lynne teased.
“Oh, she’d fully understand,” he smiled, tickling Jane’s chin as he left the kitchen.
Laurie parked in front of the Aherns’ house, then took Jane from the backseat. As Lynne got out, Renee joined them, Paul’s hand in hers. “Need some help?” Renee called.
“Yes and happy Thanksgiving,” Lynne said as Paul ran to meet Laurie and Jane. That threesome chatted as Renee reached Lynne. The women didn’t speak, but grasped each other’s hands. Then Renee gave Lynne a one-sided hug.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Renee said softly. “Pies in the back?”
Lynne nodded. “How’s Ritchie?”
“The same.” Renee collected the pies, then faced Lynne. “They’re thinking of removing the tube today, see if he can breathe on his own.”
“And how’s Brenda?”
“This morning she said that if he wakes up and apologizes, she’ll take him back.” Renee sighed. “Not sure that’s the best idea, but he’s not my husband.”
“What if he wakes and doesn’t apologize?”
Renee stared at Lynne. “I dunno. She never mentioned that option.” Then Renee smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Better today. Laurie and I had a long talk and….” Lynne looked at the sky. “Did you see the sunrise this morning?”
“We did actually. Looked a lot like….” Renee paused. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too. Looks like we’re only waiting on Marek.”
Renee gazed at the cars gathered near her house. “Have you heard from him lately?”
“Not since we told him about Ritchie.”
“Well, this isn’t easy on any of us. C’mon, decaf’s waiting.”
“I’d love a cup,” Lynne said, matching Renee’s steps toward the house.
Pastor Jagucki arrived shortly after the Snyders and Laurie were settled, and Sam introduced Marek to Vivian as children were sent outside to play. The three youngest stayed indoors, but Ann, Helene, and Jane raised little fuss in the living room while Marek made small talk with Vivian, Louie, Laurie, and Lynne. Sam was the only man in the kitchen, but his wife and sister spoke about topics compatible to his nature, mostly to do with how the Nolans were coping that day, as well as the Kennedy family. Sam wanted to watch President Johnson’s speech, and would serve dessert afterwards. The turkey was nearly done, potatoes peeled and sitting in a pot on the stove. Both Laurie and Marek had volunteered their services in the kitchen, bringing to Sam’s mind that evening at St. Matthew’s when Marek had gotten all the men to do the washing up. But Sam didn’t consider what had happened after that meal; as Frannie and Renee laughed softly, Sam concentrated on his first Thanksgiving as a father. While Eric and Ritchie’s conditions were precarious, many blessings sat in Sam’s view. He gazed at his wife, who smiled at whatever Fran had just said. Fran chuckled, then she stepped Sam’s way. “Time to start the spuds?” she asked.
He nodded and Frannie turned on the burner. Sam watched as Renee stood next to Fran, both talking at the same time. He didn’t hear their words, only the tenor, a lovely blend of motherly tones, one a little wiser than the other. Sam inhaled the wonderful fragrance of his family, and not merely that of his sister and her large brood. He stepped to the doorway, gazing at Ann playing with Helene and Jane at the end of the sofa where Lynne sat. When it was time to eat, there wouldn’t be a free seat, but maybe that was how holidays at the Aherns would come to be remembered. Then Sam met Marek’s gaze, which made Sam tremble inwardly. That man was how Sam used to be, even if Sam was married. Marek had a parish to oversee, but often he was alone. Sam longed to speak to that Pole, but there wouldn’t be time today. Maybe in the next week, Sam considered, as Marek smiled, then joined Lynne on the sofa. Sam returned to the kitchen finding Frannie and Renee in a tight embrace. Fran motioned for her brother to join them, and as he did, Fran began reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Sam added his voice, but Renee only sniffled.
Savoring his last bite of turkey, Marek gazed at those near him, the older Canfield children and Laurie, with Jane at Laurie’s side. She seemed blissfully unaware of who was missing, but Eric’s absence was glaring to the pastor, in part for having spent this holiday with the Snyders last year. Laurie’s presence seemed to exacerbate Eric’s nonattendance, although Marek knew Laurie longed for his other half. Lynne had invited Marek for supper tomorrow night, and while it wouldn’t be leftover turkey, he relished the chance to speak openly to Lynne and Laurie, but not about the expected topics. He wanted to ask Lynne if she might be willing to play hostess to a particular guest even if the new baby was but a few weeks old.
When Marek wrote to Klaudia, proffering a written invitation, he left no question as to where he would prefer her to sleep, in the spare room at St. Matthew’s. However, if she desired, he could find her alternate accommodations. Marek didn’t care
if his flock knew he had invited a guest to stay over, not even Mrs. Harmon’s objections would change Marek’s mind. If anyone raised an eyebrow, Marek would gladly inform them of his connection with Mrs. Henrichsen. And if further queries were broached, he wouldn’t hesitate to reveal how precious was this reunion, that for over twenty years Klaudia had thought Marek was dead, alongside his entire family, at the hands of the….
Marek didn’t believe it would come to that, nor was he certain just where Klaudia might feel most comfortable. Staying at the Snyders might actually be harder on her than if she slept a few doors down from Marek’s room. But he would let her decide, and he smiled, hoping his written invite would reach her soon. He had nearly called her that morning, but it would have done little good; she was at work while he was celebrating an American holiday with an interesting assortment of Catholics, Protestants, and one Jew.
Yet Laurie’s faith seemed to weave harmoniously among these people. Only Vivian Kramer stood out, not leaning toward the heavily Catholic side, nor did she seem aligned with Lynne and Marek. She wasn’t Jewish, Marek smiled to himself, but she chatted amiably with Laurie, assuming he was Lynne’s brother. Did she even know Laurie was Jewish, Marek wondered. Paul called him Uncle Laurie, and Ann had too. But Vivian had affirmed her relationship with her niece and nephew, bringing to Ann a stuffed bear. That toy had been given right before everyone sat to eat. Marek didn’t know the story behind it, but Ann had seemed subdued afterwards, yet she’d clutched the bear all through the meal. Marek could see her seated beside Renee, that bear now laying across the youngster’s lap. Marek would ask Lynne about it tomorrow if they needed a break in the conversation. Then Marek gazed at Ann, who was whispering something to her mother. Marek had no trouble assigning that term to Renee, not only for how much mother and daughter resembled one another. Motherhood had been lurking right under Renee’s skin, and now she could freely claim that role, as she whispered something to Sam.
He leaned over Renee, then spoke to his daughter as naturally as Louie had admonished his youngest children throughout the afternoon. Marek hadn’t minded sitting with mostly teenagers, for Laurie sat across, and tomorrow Marek would enjoy a pleasant discussion with Lynne and the man who filled Eric’s shoes with aplomb. Not that Laurie was any substitute for Eric, but since Laurie’s arrival, Marek hadn’t worried about who would look after Lynne. That thought had troubled him all summer and fall, especially after Sam and Renee became parents. Marek wouldn’t shirk from defending Klaudia’s visit, but he had to maintain a reasonable distance from Lynne and Jane or risk starting rumors. Laurie had seamlessly woven his way into the Snyder household and most at St. Matthew’s believed he was Lynne’s older brother. Marek doubted than any of them knew Laurie was Jewish; he didn’t wear a yarmulke on Sundays, only his New York accent set him apart. Marek smiled, for Laurie and Stanford had only come to St. Matthew’s together once, for Jane’s baptism. The Snyders hadn’t yet been members of the church, and Marek rightly predicted that no one would recall Laurie’s earlier visit, on Easter no less, when many unfamiliar faces filled the building.
Sam stood, catching Marek’s attention; maybe Sam wanted to make a little speech. He had already announced that pie would be served after President Johnson’s address, which Marek was eager to hear. He’d found himself quite wrapped up in all that had occurred last week, the outpouring of grief remarkable. Many parishioners had gathered at St. Matthew’s last weekend, needing to mourn their president, a Catholic president even. But John F. Kennedy was remarkable on many levels, his religion merely one aspect of his character, although it was exceedingly important to most within that home. The teenagers had spoken of Kennedy with great admiration in their voices and Frannie had wiped away tears when Marek hugged her. That sorrow wasn’t solely connected to Renee’s brother, although Marek felt Frannie must have considered her stay at that hospital over a year ago. Even Louie had seemed touched, strongly shaking Marek’s hand. To these people, Kennedy had been a shining example of religious equality. His death was a crushing blow not only to his family, but to Catholics at large.
Marek waited for Sam to speak aloud, but Sam merely walked to where Lynne sat on the other side of their table. They were seated in the living room, while Marek and Laurie were in the kitchen. Laurie had his back to the others, but Marek could see how Sam knelt beside Lynne, then seemed to ask her a question. Lynne gazed at Ann, who nodded, then took the bear from her lap. She got off her chair, walking to where her father and Lynne waited. Ann handed over the bear, pointing toward Lynne’s baby. Marek met Laurie’s gaze, then motioned to the other room, where now silence had fallen over the table.
“Are you sure?” Marek heard Lynne say.
Ann nodded again, placing the bear beside Lynne’s empty plate.
Lynne looked up, finding Marek’s gaze. She seemed to seek his attention, and as he stood, Sam also waved him in their direction. Marek patted Laurie’s shoulder as he headed into the living room.
“Yes?” Marek asked, as he stood next to Renee.
“Ann wants to give her bear to the new baby. And she’d like to know if you could bless the bear.” Sam’s tone had been sincere at first, then had turned tentative. Then Sam shrugged, making Marek smile.
“What a lovely gesture.” Marek looked at Ann as he spoke. Then he winked at Sam. “I’d be happy to bless that bear.”
As Marek made his way around the table, he noticed that Laurie had collected Jane, and now stood near Renee, the Canfield teens also joining the rest. Marek placed one hand on the bear, the other on Ann’s head. He spoke seriously, but with an underlying joy for Ann’s kindness. And that the baby would find great pleasure not only for this gift, but in Ann’s friendship for years to come.
Ann looked especially pleased with Marek’s comments and she happily skipped back to her chair. The rest appeared in various moods, from astonishment on Vivian to appreciation upon Fran and Louie. Helene looked intrigued, while from across the table, Jane seemed perplexed. Renee blinked away tears, then Marek met Sam’s gaze, which was a mixture of all those reactions. Marek chuckled; Sam was probably most surprised that he was willing to bless a stuffed animal.
But it was the proper response on a day where counting one’s blessings was paramount. Marek then glanced at his watch, noting it was nearly three o’clock; didn’t they want to watch….
Before he could finish speaking, Sam nodded. “Oh yeah, thanks Marek.”
“Should I turn on the TV?” Laurie asked Sam.
“Sure, thanks.”
Fran and Sally had started clearing plates, then Will, Jaime and Denise began to assist. Renee tried to stand, but Fran waved her off, and quick work was made of the table, which was folded up, then placed in the hallway. Marek assumed it would be pulled out again for dessert, but as everyone found a place to sit, attention was focused on the television, where for the last week most of the news had been disseminated. Even Marek had turned on the little black and white set in the library, usually covered by a cloth, as Mrs. Kenny thought it disrespectful to keep a TV where books should be feted.
As the presidential seal appeared on the screen, a hush fell over the living room. Marek had never heard Lyndon Johnson speak and was immediately struck by his Texas accent. Mostly Marek was drawn into how genuine were his words; Johnson probably hadn’t written this speech, but it was delivered as though he had labored over every sentence. The sentiments weren’t oppressive, but respectfully optimistic. And full of God’s presence, which Marek found interesting. He observed those with whom he was gathered; even the teens paid attention. Lynne seemed at peace, although Marek was curious; did she empathize with Jackie Kennedy, wondering about Eric’s well-being? Marek inwardly shivered, then as President Johnson concluded his remarks, Marek prayed for those with whom he stood and for those loved by these people, some of whom were gone. He glanced at Vivian, who showed no outward effects from her niece’s death. Then he gazed at Renee, her brother’s condition still uncertain. Then Ma
rek thought of Klaudia; that she was alive was perhaps the biggest blessing within his life, even if she was far away. Would he see her in 1964? He smiled, then sighed, as murmurs wafted through the room, opinions about the speech mingling with requests for dessert. Marek headed for the kitchen where Sam already stood, slicing into pies. “Need a hand?” Marek asked.
“Sure,” Sam said. “Can you get out the ice cream? I wonder what kind of pie Lynne brought besides the sweet potato?”
“I don’t know,” Marek chuckled, for neither she nor Laurie had revealed what fruit lay under that crust. Marek retrieved one container of vanilla, then closed the freezer. “What else can I do?”
“Just be ready to grab a plate and fork.” Sam smiled, then motioned for Marek to have a seat. Others entered the kitchen, offering their assistance, and Sam told them much the same, although Fran started scooping ice cream as Renee set forks on plates with slices waiting. Within minutes dessert had been distributed, Marek taking his piece of sweet potato pie into the living room, sitting next to Lynne, who only had a caramel slice on her plate.
“No pie for you,” he asked.
“I can have pie anytime,” she smiled.
“Indeed. This is truly my favorite, you know.”
She chuckled, then patted his leg. “I know.”
Marek savored his pie, not missing the bear, sitting on the coffee table. “What a lovely gift,” he said quietly.
“There’s a story behind it,” Lynne said.
“I imagine there is. Perhaps you can share it with me tomorrow.”
She nodded, then finished her caramel slice. “That was delicious. You’ll have to show me how to make them.”
“It’d be a pleasure.” Marek looked at those gathered near, most of whom were Canfields. “Such a nice afternoon this has been.”
“Yes, but I think we’ll be on our way soon.”
She sounded weary, which didn’t surprise him. “Well, you let me know what time tomorrow.”
“Anytime is fine.”
He gazed at her, peace shining in her brown eyes. “How about mid-afternoon? That way if you can rest….”
“That’s fine Marek.” Lynne grasped his hand. Then she met his gaze. “He’s safe, wherever he is. I have to believe that until someone proves otherwise.”
Her voice had gone to a near whisper, but conviction rang through that quiet tone. Marek offered a solid grip, then released Lynne’s hand. He agreed with her, but didn’t need to note that affirmation.
In Texas, Dora Richardson stepped from her house, staring into darkness. She had watched President Johnson’s speech with a heavy heart, although she found his cadence much easier to understand than President Kennedy’s had been. Yet Lyndon Johnson’s tone had been so subdued, even if his words were meant to lift this nation. Dora was glad the space center in Florida was going to be renamed for John Kennedy. She also agreed with Johnson’s assertion that God had created all men, and of course women, in his image. Then she smiled. Walt believed that too, he was as neighborly with Negroes as he was with whites. The Boldens were probably their closest friends, but then Walt and Callie had Korea in common. Yet Susie had tended Dora when she suffered both of her miscarriages, and Dora had helped Susie when she’d birthed her youngest child. Dora’s mother wasn’t too keen on how friendly were the two families, but what if Hannah knew about the stranger still recuperating in the shed?
Dora and Walt had agreed that Hannah would have to be told, but hopefully as soon as Mr. Doe was walking on his own, he wouldn’t stay much longer. Unfortunately, his memory was still gone, and while Dora had overheard Luke and Tilda speculating on possible reasons, Dora had decided the stranger wasn’t much different than her own husband. Maybe he was luckier, she thought, for if you couldn’t remember the past, it wouldn’t hurt you. Dora gingerly ran a hand over the baby. This child was keeping Walt’s nightmares at bay, and filled a hole in Dora’s heart that maybe one day would heal. Then Dora blinked away tears, thinking of Mrs. Kennedy; had she and the president’s family watched Lyndon Johnson’s address? How in the world was Jackie Kennedy supposed to find any peace?
A breeze blew around Dora, and she shivered. She couldn’t say any of this to Walt, yet it bubbled inside her. Then she flinched as a flashlight’s glow appeared to her left. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat, but not moving those notions from her mind. “How is he?”
Walt joined her on the porch, then grasped her hand in his. “He spoke, could barely make it out though.”
“What’d he say?”
“Just thank you, he said thank you. Sounded like a bird chirping, but maybe tomorrow he’ll be stronger.”
“My goodness,” Dora sighed, placing her hand over her heart. “Well, at least he ate a little today.”
“Yup, seemed to like Susie’s pie all right.”
“He’d be a fool to turn down sweet potato pie,” Dora smiled.
Walt tapped his foot. “He’s still real weak. I know it’s gonna be tough, but there’s no way he’s gonna be in any shape to do more than lay there for another good week. And if he still doesn’t know his name….”
“I know, I know.” Dora didn’t like hiding him, but on this topic she felt the same as her husband. Then she sighed.
“Dora, you want me to, well, ask around some more?”
“Oh no, I mean….” She sighed again, then led her husband toward the front window. “I’m just tired, been a long day.”
He nodded, then stroked her cheek. “I think he realizes it’s Thanksgiving, Luke probably said something to him, not sure how much he understands though.”
“Does he know about….”
“About what?”
“About the president.”
Now Walt sighed. “Well, I didn’t tell him. Not sure if Luke did.”
Dora nodded, then looked at her feet.
“Honey, if he doesn’t know his own name, he probably doesn’t remember other stuff, much less who the president is.”
“I was just asking.”
“I know, I know you were.” Walt grasped her hands again. “We’ll give him a few more days, then I’ll tell him. Let’s see if he talks more tomorrow. I’ll probably only work a half day, so we’ll see how he’s doing in the afternoon.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh Dora….” Walt pulled her close, and she permitted that embrace. But instead of collapsing against him, Dora held back a part of herself. Walt sensed that separation, for he let her go, sighing as he did so. “We’re not gonna fight about this, are we?”
“What’s to fight about? He’s dead. Nothing for you to worry about anymore.”
“Now Dora….”
“It’s cold out here. I’m going inside.” She walked around him, then stepped into the house, hoping that she was right. Kennedy was dead, nothing more for Walt to hate about him.
Chapter 167