The Hawk: Part Three Read online

  On the day after Christmas, Eric woke to an empty bed. His stomach rumbled, which he appreciated, for unlike how his entire flight home had been undertaken without any sustenance, all he had to do was ring a bell that Lynne had set on his bedside table. He was also to ring that bell if he needed to use the toilet, for he was still too weak to walk unaided. He did manage to sit up on his own, and just as he reached for the bell, Lynne stepped through their bedroom doorway, a tray in her hands. “Good morning,” she smiled, stepping toward him.

  “Oh my God, good morning.” He grinned, patting the middle of the bed. “How long’ve you been up?”

  “Maybe an hour. Someone was ready for me to be out of bed.” Lynne chuckled, placing the tray on her dresser. “What would you like first? I have toast, a banana, juice, tea….”

  “Just you baby, just you.”

  She giggled, bringing a cup of apple juice and the banana. “First you drink this, and eat this. Then you can have me.”

  Eric smiled, taking small sips of juice. He wanted to gulp it, then gobble the banana, not to satisfy his belly, but to more quickly get his wife back into their bed. But food was being ingested in small portions, for Eric’s stomach was shrunken. He hadn’t eaten anything on the flight home because there had been nothing for him to kill. Yet he hadn’t stopped to rest, pushing himself harder than ever before. He was fully cognizant of himself as a man trapped inside the body of a hawk, also aware of his pregnant wife, waiting for him. He hadn’t stayed to see his father die; Howard Snyder had fallen ill shortly after Eric arrived, kidney failure, a doctor had said. Eric had perched on the windowsill of the prison infirmary, listening through a cracked pane. He watched as his father had gone from being conscious, then falling into a coma, all the while surprised at the level of care offered to a condemned man. Then he learned that prison officials had been trying to locate Howard’s next of kin, but again to Eric’s shock, no one had realized that Howard had any living family remaining.

  That was why Lynne hadn’t been contacted, although Eric hadn’t been stunned to learn that Stanford had informed Lynne to Eric’s probable whereabouts. Eric had called Stanford yesterday evening, speaking for just a few moments. Stanford had sounded unduly grateful for the call, and Eric relayed that to Lynne, as if Stanford had taken Eric’s disappearance as hard as the Aherns. Or maybe it was worse on Stanford, for at least Sam and Renee knew why Eric was gone. Eric would speak to his dealer in the new year, although thinking of Stanford as his dealer seemed too detached. Stanford and Laurie were Eric’s family, but they weren’t part of Eric’s inner circle. Eric couldn’t wait to see the Aherns later that day. And he couldn’t wait to watch Lynne open her Christmas presents.

  She still didn’t know about them, although she had given him one, an inadvertent treasure that was only for them. After the fever had broken, Eric had noticed the pendant, dangling between her breasts. He wept at that necklace, but hadn’t needed to explain that breakdown to his wife. She mentioned that she’d worn the opal for a few weeks now, and wouldn’t take it off until…. Then Eric had kissed her, and while they hadn’t yet been intimate, one warm kiss had been enough to calm his heart, then bring to mind the gifts he had purchased for her in early November. He had even wrapped them, when she was napping, hiding them in the back of their closet. They weren’t large, and only a few had been tucked away, but he couldn’t wait for her to open them. However he would have to wait until the Aherns arrived, for Eric was too weak to collect them. He’d have Sam retrieve them, then place them under the tree.

  Eric finished the banana, and Lynne set the peel on the tray. She mentioned the mug of tea and the toast, but didn’t offer them immediately. Instead she walked to the other side of the bed, and got in next to him. Eric pulled back the blanket, and she nuzzled along his side, the baby nudging against his right hip. Eric had been amazed at how large their child had become, and how beautiful Lynne appeared. He wasn’t sure when he could paint again, but as soon as it was possible, he had in mind his next canvas. “I love you so much, both of you,” he murmured, stroking Lynne’s belly. “Merry Christmas baby, you too baby.”

  Lynne didn’t speak, but her right arm was draped across Eric’s torso, gripping his other side. He wondered if she was crying, for now his upper chest felt slightly damp, but he didn’t add any more words, inhaling her warmth and her scent like it was all the food he needed. She sat up, tears rolling along her cheeks, but her smile was so wide that Eric knew those tears weren’t from sorrow. Relief shone in her eyes, also a beatific peace that he had never seen in all of their years together. She had been tested severely, Eric thought, but the result was a balm not even he could offer.

  It wasn’t only that he had returned, or that she carried his baby. Eric reached for her face, wiping away the remnant of her tears. In that liquid he too knew a deep peace; that peace had healed him last year, but this year it had saved his life. He had known, even in that feverish state, death was approaching. He’d heard his wife’s prayers, also her response to those prayers. She’d had to wait, to trust, and to love, but not in dutiful, sad resignation. Lynne had changed in the last year, Eric had seen it, painted it too. The baby had been a huge step in accepting what might seem impossible. But an even greater trial had loomed; when she sent Sam and Renee home on Friday, she had also followed the dictates of her soul, which was not bound by usual human expectations. Lynne had been willing to go somewhere she had never been, as if she was the bird of prey, soaring through the skies, led only by instinct. And that instinct had been borne of faith. Eric stared at her, wondering why they had been chosen to experience these miracles, certainly not on the scale of what Mary had been given, but unique to modern man.

  Lynne placed her husband’s hand upon their baby, and Eric closed his eyes, not ruing the days he had missed, paintings that would never be created. The idea he wished to explore on canvas would begin a new series, for this was the day they had been given, this was the life they now would share. He wasn’t sure what becoming Catholic would do to his career as an artist, but for the first time since he had realized his talent, that gift wasn’t paramount. Nor was it second to his wife; it came third, and soon enough fourth, behind this burgeoning faith, Lynne, and their baby. Eric laughed, feeling freer than he had this time last year, and he’d assumed that was as liberated as he ever would be. Then he stared at Lynne, her eyes wide. Did she feel the same? “Our lives will never be like before.” Eric spoke softly, then he smiled, as his stomach again rumbled.

  She nodded, reaching over him for a piece of toast. She gave it to him, and he nibbled on it, then Eric set it back on the plate. “Or maybe I’ll always be hungry,” he chuckled. “But other things….”

  “I know. Maybe you’ll always be starving, or maybe one of these days you’ll gorge yourself on one of Sam’s fabulous dinners. But as for the rest of it….”

  “Yes, that’s changed. I can’t even begin to explain it all, but….”

  She put a finger to his lips. “You don’t have to explain anything.” Then she placed her palm over his heart. “We’re not the same people Eric, not inside.”

  He nodded, gazing right into her eyes. Long brown hair spilled over her shoulders, and he wanted to make love to her, but didn’t have the strength. He laughed, setting his hand over hers. Faith was pure, but human love was intertwined with it, affection that at times was romantic, platonic, paternal, brotherly. As a man, Christ had sustained deep friendships not only with his disciples, but those he met, even women. Maybe there was no proof that Jesus had ever been in love with someone, but he fully understood that element of human beings, for he had created them with that capacity. Then Eric laughed. “I must believe there’s a God.”

  “Yeah?” Lynne smiled.

  Eric nodded, then leaned forward, giving her a soft, chaste kiss. “Lynne, when I paint you next, it’s not gonna be a nude, I mean, it’s not gonna be a field of flowers either, but I wanna express everything, or some of it, in a different fashion. I
s that all right?”

  “Of course honey. Why do you need to ask?”

  He traced her belly, then sighed. “Because I painted so much of you and her in the early days, but I can’t say if I’ll paint another of you two like this. I mean, oh hell, I probably will.” He smiled. “I wanna depict you like this, so beautiful. You are so beautiful right now, oh Lynne….”

  Eric might not have enough stamina for intercourse, but he accepted that wasn’t the only way a couple could be close. And now with Lynne so large, usual relations would have to be modified. But as Lynne proffered her love, Eric didn’t need to do any more than lay right where he was. As he came, he stroked her hair, calling her name, inwardly thanking God for the gift of this woman, for his life, and for a newly forming faith to better appreciate such treasures.

  The Aherns arrived at three, bringing food and a few presents. They had heard from both Stanford and Laurie that morning, asking if Eric was indeed okay. Sam chuckled, noting that Stanford had sounded rather flustered, while Laurie was more relaxed. But Sam hadn’t revealed Eric and Lynne’s decision to join the Catholic faith. He said that with raised eyebrows, as if he wasn’t sure that idea still stood.

  Renee and Sam prepared an early dinner while Lynne sat on the sofa beside her husband. Eric had napped for much of the late morning and early afternoon, then had taken a bath, and with his wife’s assistance, he’d managed the stairs, but would have Sam help him back up at the end of the evening. As a fire crackled, the two couples ate in the living room, jovial banter exchanged.

  When the meal was finished, Sam and Renee cleared the plates. Then Sam built up the fire, as Renee fetched gifts from under the tree. Trinkets were exchanged first, then Eric opened the larger presents from Lynne. The clothes seemed huge, although Eric said that with such good food available, he’d be back to his normal weight in no time. He smiled at the stationary, noting he had plenty of correspondence waiting, then he laughed. Stanford would expect nothing less than phone calls for a while, and that their phone bill would reflect it. Renee scoffed; let that New Yorker make the calls. But Eric said that within a few weeks he expected Stanford would visit, weather permitting. That would put the art dealer’s fears to rest.

  Then Eric motioned for Sam, whispering something in his ear. Sam smiled, then headed upstairs, causing Lynne to pepper her husband with questions. Eric remained stoic, but Renee was intrigued, then she was called upstairs. Both Aherns returned with gifts, and Lynne nearly burst into tears. “Don’t cry till you see what I bought you,” Eric teased. “Maybe you’ll be making lots of returns.”

  “When did you do all this?” Lynne mumbled, as several gifts were placed on the coffee table.

  “All those times you napped.” Eric sat up, then pointed to three presents. “Open these first, then the others.”

  Lynne did as she was told, finding two new scarves, which Eric had seen in New York. The scarves were silk, in spring hues, and Lynne draped one around her shoulders, handing the other to Renee. The men rolled their eyes as the women ooh’ed and ahh’ed for several minutes. Then Lynne opened the other package, which was a pair of opal earrings. She burst out crying, and Eric briefly explained the significance while Lynne caught her breath. She pulled out the pendant from under her sweater, and Renee began to weep, making Sam sigh. “Now how am I supposed to match this Eric?” But Sam’s voice was light as Lynne put on the earrings. Renee adjusted the scarf, then she patted Sam’s leg, as Lynne took a deep breath. Two large packages remained.

  Lynne stared at her husband, her lower lip trembling. Eric stroked her damp face, then pointed to the larger present. “Open that next.”

  She nodded, picking up the gift. Carefully she undid the paper, revealing a leather-bound Bible, with her name embossed in the lower left corner. Eric smiled as she gently leafed through the gilt-edged pages, then he watched as she found the inscription near the front. She nodded, then gazed at him, reaching for his hand, squeezing softly. “Thank you honey.” Then she smiled, looking at Renee. “Guess I can give you back the one you loaned me.”

  “Or maybe Eric would like to use it.” Renee folded her hands in her lap. “This one’s beautiful.”

  “I thought, even though I had your name put on it, that it could be our family Bible. I mean, at that point, I wasn’t so sure about what I wanted to do, but now….”

  “Now I know what I can get you for,” Lynne giggled. “For Easter.”

  “Oh, I’d love that,” Eric smiled.

  Renee examined the Bible as Eric embraced his wife. Then Sam cleared his throat, making the other three chuckle. “There’s still one more present,” Sam said.

  Eric grinned. “There is indeed. Go ahead honey.”

  Lynne unwrapped the last package, finding a small canvas. She held it aloft, but her hands shook. Eric steadied her, as both Sam and Renee asked to see it. Slowly Lynne turned it around. Cherry trees bloomed against a bright blue sky while emerald green grass edged the bottom of the painting, as large as a standard sheet of paper. It wasn’t framed, and Sam and Renee wondered the meaning.

  Eric explained. “When we were in college, we hiked near an orchard that looked just like this in springtime. I hadn’t thought about it for ages, but after we learned about the baby, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” Eric gazed at his wife, tears pouring down her face. On those walks, they had discussed their future, hers as a nurse until they had their first child. That had been in the earliest days of their marriage, before they had found themselves unable to conceive. Eric had considered painting that orchard many times, but he never had, the memories too painful. As Lynne studied the canvas, Eric’s heart pounded; all their dreams had come true, but in ways they hadn’t imagined back then.

  Handing the painting to Renee, Lynne then nestled beside her husband. She didn’t cry, but clutched him, and Eric grasped her, feeling the same memories flooding them both. He wasn’t sure how he sensed it, but if they had thought they were close before, now he wondered if they could sense each other’s most private musings. Then Sam and Renee stepped from their seats, leaving the Snyders alone in the living room. Eric kissed the top of Lynne’s head, then stroked her back. The baby thumped along Eric’s body, making him laugh. “Someone wants attention.”

  “Soon enough it’ll all be about her.”

  Eric tipped Lynne’s face so their eyes met. “Do you think it’s a girl?”

  “You said it earlier.” Then Lynne smiled. “A woman at church said she thought it was, although she then said she was wrong half the time. Oh Eric, it doesn’t matter. You’re right here, and this is, oh honey….” She motioned to the painting, propped on Sam’s chair. “This’s the most precious piece you’ve ever done.”

  “More of those to come,” he smiled, placing his hand on the baby.

  She nodded. “I suppose there are. Thank you Eric, for, oh my goodness, for….”

  His kiss silenced her words, but the sentiment continued in their actions. If not for the Aherns, probably preparing dessert in the kitchen, Eric would have removed Lynne’s new scarf, then let her do the rest, but as his stomach rumbled again, Lynne pulled away, laughing as she did so. “That’s a lovely sound, you know.”

  “I can feel it.” He patted his gut. “Sam, how’s that pie coming?”

  “One piece or two?”

  “Two!” Eric called.

  “One thin one,” Lynne hollered.

  Eric laughed as Renee emerged with a tray of plates, all with varying sizes of slices. Sam followed with another platter of coffee cups, although Eric’s held tea. Renee set her tray on the coffee table, then cleared a spot for Sam’s. As dessert and drinks were enjoyed, the conversation centered on what might unfold in the coming year; catechism classes for the Snyders, a new series for Eric, perhaps a visit from Stanford. No one mentioned the baby, who forced Lynne to her feet, then to the bathroom. The three who remained grew quiet in her absence, consumed by their own interpretations of Eric’s return, and what 1962 held in store not on
ly for them, but for those far away.

  Chapter 48