Renee was off on Friday, and she spent that morning doing laundry at the Snyders, while Sam slept on the sofa and Eric snored in the master bedroom. Renee was thankful that the Snyders had a separate room, off the kitchen, where the washer and dryer could run all day, not disturbing those who needed their rest. It wasn’t only Eric whom Renee considered, although that morning he seemed far improved, except for his eyes. He kept them closed when she came in the room, but his arms were mostly healed, and he proudly exhibited his left foot, which looked very much like the right one. According to Eric, there had previously been a world of difference, and he couldn’t wait to show Lynne.
Eric knew she had seen him, but he hadn’t scolded Sam, for all she had noted were his lower legs, and Sam had required the only person who could verify that indeed, five months spent as a hawk had permitted one benefit. Eric had told Renee that it didn’t ache at all, that he could live with the few remaining scars. She would have laughed along with him, except that during their exchange, he kept his eyes closed, often tilting his head down. But the joy in his voice was infectious, and Renee had left the bedroom with a light heart, not thinking about how Eric’s foot had been damaged until well after both Eric and Sam were asleep.
Renee had been worried about her husband, for Sam hadn’t gotten proper rest in a week. How he survived on catnaps was akin to how he’d lived in battles with other exhausted men, but at least now, Sam had told her, his main concern was if Eric’s eyes would heal. The way he’d said it had made Renee’s skin crawl, both in the gravity of her husband’s voice, and for that caveat. She tried not to think about her weary spouse existing for weeks on end without enough sleep. Since Eric’s return, Renee had reverted to how she had lived while Sam was gone, at times pacing her life by the hour. Work had been a godsend, and it was easier now that Lynne was gone. Renee could slip back into her Catholic clique, pretending for those moments that her biggest problems were church-related. But then, President-Elect Kennedy would be mentioned, his beautiful wife and their two children. Renee would drift away, not that she wasn’t happy for Mrs. Kennedy, who had just given birth to a son the day after Thanksgiving. That news reminded Renee of what she had said to Lynne about their husbands. They never would fully understand them, nor would two wives ever accomplish what Mrs. Kennedy had, the birth of a healthy baby.
That hadn’t been what Renee meant at the time, or maybe it was so implied between Renee and Lynne that now Renee couldn’t escape it. Because, what if Eric’s foot wasn’t the only part of him to have been restored? She kept that to herself, but couldn’t discount it. During the campaign, Renee had read that Mrs. Kennedy had suffered a stillbirth four years ago, so not every Catholic woman had an easy time of it. The President-Elect’s younger brother Robert had several children with his wife, but every woman was different.
Renee had also considered that she and Sam hadn’t conceived before he left for Korea. Maybe that had also been a part of her anger the day she had slapped him. As she put sheets in the dryer, then threw more into the washer, Renee pondered what kind of mother she would have made. She loved her job, wasn’t exactly the homemaker sort. Often Sam did their laundry, leaving her with the ironing, which she didn’t mind. It was one of the few household tasks she did, as he vacuumed, dusted, and shopped. She always mopped, but he took out the trash, and tended to their yard, which wasn’t at all comparable to the Snyders’. Renee didn’t mind folding sheets, but was glad not to worry about a garden.
Lynne had kept the Aherns’ home tidy, not much else for her to do but clean, play cards, and wait. But Renee was glad Lynne had quit when she did, even if she was bored now. Better for her to be playing Solitaire than endure the mindless chatter at work. Now that Lynne was gone, the rumors had ratcheted up, even around Renee. But she found humorous those whispered insinuations that she and Lynne were lovers. What would people come up with next?
Renee stacked flat sheets and pillowcases, then grabbed a dry fitted sheet from the basket. She never ironed their linens, just her clothes and Sam’s trousers and nice shirts. She wasn’t sure if Lynne wanted crisp sheets, but at this point, Eric was fine to sleep on whatever Renee put in the hall closet. Now Eric was comfortable enough around her that she could change his bedding, but during those first days, Sam had done it all. She could hear him snoring soundly, and it made her smile. He needed several straight nights’ sleep, and daytime naps as well. And as soon as Eric was well, Renee was going to enforce that, within her own home. Let Lynne nurse Eric, while Renee kept an eye on Sam.
She put the sheets on a chair near the table. She could take them upstairs later, when Sam was awake, or if Eric needed something. He was walking without assistance now, could use the toilet on his own, and bathe himself. Sam had swept the bedroom that morning, gathering what he hoped were the last of the feathers. Eric had told him to put them on the burn pile, thirty feet away from the studio. He would torch them when the weather was good, and he was back on his feet. Renee wondered if that was part of the routine, then she shook her head. Usually Eric transformed outside, and maybe those feathers blew away on a stiff wind. Now they were waiting for his eyes to revert to normal. He could see, Renee knew that, and maybe his sight was improved, but his eyes weren’t human in appearance, and until they were, Lynne was still forbidden to approach her husband. Renee stood at the kitchen doorway, and could see Sam, lying on the sofa, a blanket over him. The fire was dying, but the house wasn’t cold, for the weather had turned balmy, like a late Indian summer. Theoretically winter wasn’t until right before Christmas; Eric had made good on his pledge to be home by then.
Renee stepped toward the table, sitting in a chair next to the stacked sheets. The last load was in the washer, and Renee had bleached out the biggest stains. Sam had asked for more only because as Eric’s skin returned, the linens were unusable for long, and Sam hadn’t been able to keep up with the wash and care for Eric both. Suddenly the worst was over, or the messiest part. Not that Renee had seen it, but she had been present while parts of it occurred, and she would never forget the sounds Eric had made, like something from a horror film. Had Christ uttered such turmoil as he was crucified; he had still been a man, after all. Renee had tried to filter out Eric’s agony by considering Jesus’ trial, then she’d had to step outside, but her ears still rang with those screams. How in God’s name had Sam stayed with him, and had Lynne ever heard such shrieks?
Lynne wasn’t told about those inhumane cries, worse than any woman’s labor Renee had attended. She would never again be fazed by childbirth, for she had sonically witnessed a man being reborn, and there was no comparison. She would have to watch herself when new mothers grew testy. Renee had never snapped at a woman in labor, even those most squawky, but nothing had prepared her for what Eric had endured.
Sam snorted, then coughed. Renee remained in her seat, but she stood as he got up from the sofa. She met him at the stairs, and he nodded, still half-asleep. Then he went up, and as he did, she heard Eric moving about. Renee didn’t follow her husband; she added wood to the fire, then folded the blankets, askew on the floor.
It took ten minutes for Sam to return, but now he was alert. “Call Lynne,” he said calmly, but excitement hedged his voice.
Renee stared toward the Snyder bedroom. “And what should I tell her?”
“Ask if she has a minute. Someone would like to see her.”
Renee’s lip trembled, and she grasped Sam’s hands. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, then smiled. “His eyes look, well, they’re just about healed. Maybe they’re as good as they’re gonna get, but he wants to see her, so….”
Renee released Sam’s hands, then rushed into the kitchen. She picked up the receiver, then stopped, putting it back in the cradle. She turned around, but Sam wasn’t there. She heard him over her head, but the men’s voices were muffled. Only hours ago, Eric wouldn’t reveal his eyes to her, had something happened during his nap?
She grabbed the linens, taking the stair
s with care. She put away the sheets, then walked to the master bedroom door. “Sam, I, uh….”
“What’d she say?” Eric asked.
Renee took one step into the room. “I just wanted to make sure, before I called her. Are you really ready?”
Eric smiled at her, and while his eyes weren’t completely correct, they were open. “Yes, please Renee. I, I….”
Renee was down the stairs before Eric could finish his sentence.
Outside the gate, Sam waited for Lynne. He wanted to see her joy, and to warn her. The rest of Eric was restored, although one bodily function was still questionable. Eric’s semen remained a dark gray color, and Eric had told Sam he wouldn’t make love to Lynne until it was normal. Neither had mentioned this to Renee, and while Sam wouldn’t broach it with Lynne, he wanted to explain Eric’s eyes. They weren’t wholly human, but no longer were they perfectly round. Renee said they looked surgically altered, but Sam was hoping that after a few more nights’ rest, Eric’s eyes would revert to their previous shape and color. It was the last part of him, other than ejaculation, that was still impaired.
Lynne’s car approached, and Sam smiled. She parked in the driveway, quickly getting out, then she ran to him. Sam caught her in a brief embrace. “He can’t wait to see you.”
She pulled away, hurrying to the gate. Sam walked more slowly, and Lynne gazed at him. “What is it?”
“Let’s get inside.”
Lynne opened the gate, and Sam closed it. Then he held her hands. “His eyes are still, well, not quite there. They’re more round than oval, and they’re….”
“Sam, I don’t care about his eyes. Are you sure he wants to see me?”
Sam chuckled. “Oh yeah, he’s ready. But Lynne, he, uh….”
“What?”
“He needs time to be, you know….”
“Intimate?”
Sam nodded, then blushed. Then he cleared his throat. “I’ll let him explain.”
She smiled, then gripped his hand. She took several brisk steps, then she paused. “Sam, is it just his eyes that aren’t right?”
“Well, technically yes, I mean….”
“Samuel, you can tell me anything.”
“Eric wants to tell you.”
Lynne put her hands on her hips. “What is it?”
He whispered in her ear, then stood back, looking sheepish. Lynne nodded thoughtfully. “Well, that’s new.” Then she shrugged. “At this point, what difference does it make? He’s home and he wants, he’s ready to, he’s asked for….”
She began to cry. Sam led her to the house, their steps slow but steady.
She was still weeping when they entered the kitchen, and while taking off her jacket. As soon as Sam closed the door, Eric called out Lynne’s name. He was seated on the sofa, having been helped downstairs by Renee. He stood with her assistance as Lynne and Sam stepped through the kitchen doorway. The Snyders stared at one another, lips trembling and hearts racing, but being this close to Lynne overwhelmed Eric. Before he could speak, he burst into tears. Then he was wrapped tightly within her arms, both of them sobbing the other’s name.
Renee and Sam guided them to the sofa, then the Aherns exited the living room. Eric wasn’t sure where they went; all he noted was his wife’s warm and wonderful scent, her soft skin against his cheek, her hands ruffling his hair. He wanted to touch hers, but it wasn’t the same, and he kept that small sorrow to himself. Instead he nuzzled against her brow, not yet ready for her to inspect his eyes. They felt normal, which at first had thrilled him, until Sam said they still weren’t quite right. But for the first time, his body seemed like before, and maybe that had been enough. Now, with Lynne in his arms, he wondered why he had hesitated; had keeping her away harmed her? She had cut her hair, but that was before he came home. He finally stroked the length of it, then he smiled. “It’s not as short as Renee said it was.”
Lynne pulled away, then traced around his eyes. “I was sick of it, to tell you the truth. I never thought about you wanting to….”
He kissed her lips, then again nuzzled her forehead. “It doesn’t matter, all that matters is….”
“I love you, oh my God Eric, I love….”
Now he kissed her with vigor, and she responded with equal need. Adrenaline shot through him, and he didn’t care if the Aherns were in the next room or upstairs or…. Then Eric pulled away. “Did Sam say anything about….”
Lynne nodded. “Does it feel different?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “It just looks strange. I don’t wanna….”
“I know, that’s fine.” She inhaled, her smile beatific. Again she traced around his eyes. “They aren’t quite there yet, but soon.” She giggled. “How’s your foot?”
He looked down, wiggling his left toes. Then he met her gaze. “Still looks a little rough, but there’s no pain, no….”
He stopped speaking, as her tears fell onto his hand. Closing his eyes, Eric brushed that wetness against them. Maybe her joy would speed the final healing, for these tears weren’t from sorrow. They did burn, but he ignored it, too enraptured by her presence. “I’m sorry about keeping you away, but it wasn’t something I wanted you to see.”
She nodded, then gripped his hands. “I know, and I’m sorry that you had to go through it at all.”
Eric opened his eyes. “I saw my father, did Sam tell you?”
“No, he didn’t. Oh Eric, oh honey!”
He nodded. “That’s why I was gone for so long. I spent, Christ, I don’t know how long there, but God, it was, oh baby, so good. So….” He knew why his foot was better, or what could pass as the basis for a miracle. Then he nestled against her, wanting to strip away her clothing, pressing himself right along her skin.
But he wouldn’t go any further until he was one hundred percent human. Whatever he was secreting wasn’t normal; he had noticed it the third or fourth night, having woken from a dream about Lynne. It had been his first wet dream since he was a teenager, and while changing the sheets, Sam had noticed the dark tint. It had lightened some, but Eric would take no chances. Yet, like Renee, Eric had wondered if his foot wasn’t the only fault repaired.
Eric gazed at the kitchen doorway, sensing Sam before that man cleared his throat. After Sam coughed, Eric smiled, and Lynne turned to see Sam with Renee at his side. “I think we’ll leave you two alone. If you want company, just call.”
“Oh yes. Thank you for everything.” Lynne stood from the sofa, then looked at Eric, as if to ask if he wanted to stand. He shook his head, still weary from coming down the stairs. But Renee had been right; he needed to start exercising his legs, which were weak from underuse and malnutrition. Eric had put on ten pounds in the last week, his initial bony frame another reason he hadn’t immediately wanted Lynne to see him.
Lynne hugged the Aherns, then Sam pulled away, stepping to the sofa. He knelt in front of Eric. “If you need or want anything, all you have to do is….”
“I know.” Eric smiled. “I never had a brother before but….”
Sam laughed. “And now I have one more.” He stood, then gently patted Eric’s shoulder. Then Lynne embraced him again, telling him thanks. Eric waved at Renee, who was trying to hide her tears. Sam led his wife from the living room, and Lynne followed them as far as the kitchen door. She locked it, then returned to the sofa, sitting at her husband’s side.
The fire made the only noise, as she stroked his face and neck, while he caressed her arms and waist. Then their hands came together, fingers entwined. Eric’s breaths were deep, then shallow, his heartbeat and pulse off the scale. “I have so much to tell you,” but his voice was a hoarse whisper. “Lynne, I am so, so….”
Her kiss stopped his apology. He wanted to merge into all of her skin, relaying everything he had learned, then plead for clemency. Yet, mercy was proffered as she grazed his back, alternating tender grasps with needy clutches. She carefully broke off the kiss, catching her breath. She laid her palm against his face, her smile a beacon. ?
??Oh Eric, oh my God!”
“What?”
“Your eyes, oh honey, I swear, they’re normal. Eric, come look.”
She stood, then held out her hands, which he gripped with all of his remaining strength. She hoisted him from the sofa, then walked him to a mirror across the room. Eric gazed into it, then backed away. Within his wife’s arms, his eyes had changed. Other than the slight burn, he hadn’t felt any painful sensation, although he’d been so swept away, perhaps passion had cloaked the ache.
“Sam won’t believe this,” Eric chuckled, staring into the mirror again. Then he touched the edges, for now there were edges. Then he looked at his foot. He curled his toes, then bent his ankle. Previously those movements would have caused discomfort, and a wave of traumatic memories. Now there was no sense of agony, physical or psychological.
Lynne snuggled next to him, and while he felt a bit dizzy, he was able to hold her, or maybe she was supporting him, but it didn’t feel wrong. “I love you baby, oh God, I wanna lay down with you, I wanna….”
“Me too.”
He smiled. “Renee changed the sheets again, well, right after she got me downstairs. I think she’d been doing laundry all morning, but they’re clean right now.”
Lynne chuckled. “Eric, I just wanna lie next to you, I never wanna be away from you again.”
He nodded, as she led them to the stairs. He gripped the railing, while Lynne covered the fire with the grate. Then she helped him up the steps. As they reached their door, he stopped her. “We’ll need a new bed soon. I mean, it doesn’t smell bad, but….”
“We need a new sofa too. Maybe for Christmas we’ll splurge, redo the whole house.”
“Sam said just this week you quit working.”
She nodded. “Eric, we can talk about this later.”
“No, Lynne, wait.” He stroked her hair again, the length not as abrupt as when he first saw her. But then, he hadn’t looked the same either. Now his eyes were fine; Sam might not believe it had happened that quickly. And Lynne’s hair would grow out, perhaps by summer. She wasn’t working, would be home all the time. He stretched out his right arm. He had no idea when he would paint again, but when he did, he knew exactly what he wanted to depict. That made him smile, as did the way Lynne removed her sweater, then her blouse, right there on the landing. “Shouldn’t we go inside the bedroom, Mrs. Snyder?”
She had a throaty laugh, making Eric weak. “Rumors are that you’re married to a lesbian.”
Eric laughed out loud. “You and Renee, huh?”
“Allegedly I have a thing for redheads.”
“Do you still prefer blondes?”
She smiled, tousling his hair. “Oh yes. Blonde enigmatic painters drive me crazy.”
“I missed you, I didn’t know anything after I left my father, except that I had to come home to….” He winced, then smiled. She was his wife, his soul mate. And she was the most potent healing force he had ever known. “Let me make love to you Lynne. I’ve wanted to make love to you for….”
Her kiss silenced him, as she led him, step by step, to their bed. Eric sat on the edge as she undressed. Then she lay in the center of the mattress.
He was still weak, and was adjusting to his human-shaped eyes. Using his last bit of strength, Eric climbed atop her body, as Lynne pulled the blankets over them, softly crying out his name.
Chapter 24