Early on Monday, December 18th, Stanford received a phone call. The caller was one of Stanford’s private detectives, and apologized profusely for intruding at such an early hour, at Mr. Taylor’s residence no less. Stanford trembled, as the detective hemmed and hawed. Then Laurie appeared in the living room, his eyes full of questions. Stanford nodded, still listening to the caller, then sighing in relief and slight sorrow. Eric’s father had died yesterday morning, but according to the detective, the painter hadn’t appeared at the prison.
Stanford thanked the man, then wished him a merry Christmas. Laurie was at Stanford’s side as he hung up the receiver. “What?” Laurie said softly.
“Eric’s dad died yesterday morning,” Stanford said flatly. Then he turned to Laurie, grasping his hands. “He wasn’t there, Eric I mean. But I’d only had Turner there for the last couple of days. Perhaps Eric left before he actually passed away or….” Then Stanford grimaced. “Jesus Christ, what if something’s wrong with Lynne?”
Sweat dripped from Stanford’s forehead as he picked up the receiver. Just as he asked for the operator, Laurie took the receiver from Stanford’s hand, setting it back into the cradle. “The Aherns would’ve called us Stan, it’s okay.”
Not even over his mother had Stanford felt this level of anxiety. He let Laurie lead him into their bedroom; Laurie sat Stanford at the foot of their bed, then sat beside him. “Stan, listen, I want you to go into work for the morning, then come home for lunch. I have one meeting, at ten, then I’ll be home. You can call Lynne after lunch, it’ll just be nine Pacific time. If he died yesterday, I’m sure she knows, and while she’s an amiable sort, waking her before the crack of dawn isn’t a good way to start her day.”
Laurie smiled, stroking Stanford’s still shaking hands. Then Laurie kissed his lover’s cheek. “Eric probably said his peace, then started for home. Hell, he might even get there today. I’m sure he didn’t wanna be away for Christmas, not this year.” Then Laurie cleared his throat. “Calling her in a few hours will be fine, you’ll just be offering your condolences. They’ll assume you know what’s happened, and they, well, they’re pretty open-minded.” Now Laurie laughed. “We didn’t scare them off in October, no need to pretend about his dad now. But let her sleep. I guarantee you wake her up now, she’ll be cross, no matter what.”
Stanford nodded, then looked at Laurie. “What, you an expert on pregnancy?”
“Hey, I paid attention when my sisters had their kids. She’s six months along, and it’s only gonna get worse.”
Stanford shook his head. “Good God. You going to ask to be with her when she delivers?”
Laurie laughed out loud. “I won’t ask, but if she does….”
Now Stanford glared at Laurie. “You aren’t serious!”
“I’ll be first in line in the lobby with the biggest damned bouquet of flowers I can find. It’s been a crappy end of the year Stan. I want 1962 to be better.”
Stanford nodded, then sighed. “Well, all right, I’ll go to work, should be back around noon. Not much going on right now anyways. But I do want to call her, maybe Eric will be there.”
“Maybe,” Laurie said slowly.
Stanford stared at him again. “You don’t sound that convinced.”
Laurie stood, then walked to a large window that faced a busy street. Sludge remained along the sidewalks, but cars maneuvered through the slush. “I can’t put my finger on it Stan, I can’t even say why I feel this way.” Laurie faced his partner. “Seth sculpted Eric’s foot half a dozen years before Eric became your client. I know you’ve been avoiding the library, but….”
“Laurie, for God’s sake. That was just a….”
“Don’t say it was a coincidence. Those figures are Eric and Lynne, and don’t you tell me otherwise.”
Stanford sighed wearily, then joined Laurie. “Okay, yes, they are. But that’s just what we’ve appropriated to them, the figures I mean. It’s like that damn blue barn, God, how’d that bastard paint that canvas?”
Laurie smiled, then chuckled. “If you told him what you thought was inside it….”
“He’d never let me live it down.”
“He’d laugh and think he finally had your number, although I think he already does.” Laurie kissed Stanford, then pulled away, stroking his face. “He knows all about us and neither he nor Lynne could care less. And in a few days those who read gossip rags in this city will know that Eric’s father is dead. But they’ll never know about Eric’s foot, although Seth did. In 1948, Seth knew, Stanford. He knew, and he still went to Korea anyways.”
Laurie’s voice lowered, then he shook his head. “Sam Ahern came back, and seems in good shape, and Eric doesn’t have that deformity anymore, and now he and Lynne are gonna be parents. Not everything’s shitty Stan. I don’t want to lose Seth, Christ, Aunt Wilma will have a breakdown, maybe Mom too. I love him, you know I love him, but right now he’s….” Laurie’s lip trembled. “He’s somewhere I can’t go. Maybe if he gets to Minnesota, maybe….”
“Maybe,” Stanford said. “Perhaps Eric or Sam can visit him.”
Laurie nodded, then smiled. “But in the meantime, you have work, and so do I, and Lynne needs her rest and Eric needs….” Laurie paused, then glanced out the window.
“Eric needs what?”
“To be home,” Laurie said absently. “He’ll be home soon enough, Stan, I just know it.”
Stanford rolled his eyes, but only because Laurie’s back was to him. Then Stanford stood beside Laurie, both men gazing at the skyline. A gray horizon waited, snow forecast all week. Still Stanford thought it was beautiful, and he hoped that wherever Eric was, he was getting closer to home with each passing minute.
Lynne spent that morning reading the Bible. Renee had stuck various markers throughout the New Testament, not having noted any Old Testament chapters. Lynne was curious about that, but Renee was at work, and it wasn’t enough of a question to call Sam about. Besides, this was a loaner, for which Lynne was grateful, but she wanted her own copy. She was still considering Catholicism, but no immediate decision was necessary.
She was having dinner with the Aherns that night; Sam would pick her up on his way to collect Renee from work. The meal wouldn’t be anything special, he had laughed, when taking Lynne home after Sunday lunch, for he had work that day too. Lynne had offered to make a pie, but Sam said to hold off until Christmas Eve. Christmas was a week out, but Lynne felt the next seven days might last as long as the last four weeks. Other than reading, be it a Bible or anything else, little remained for her to do.
Renee was busy all week, and while Lynne could have sewed, she preferred doing that task with Renee’s assistance. The weather was still dismal, and Lynne wouldn’t drive anywhere, not that she needed food or sundries or Christmas presents. She inhaled, then exhaled, setting the Bible on the sofa. She stood, stoked the fire, then glanced at the clock; nearly nine in the morning. She had been awake since seven, taking a long bath, dressing, then eating breakfast, but those activities occupied only so much time. Time now loomed in front of Lynne like it had last year, an endless stretch of lonely, uncertain days until Eric returned.
Lynne had learned the woman’s name, Beverly Stewart, from Renee. Lynne still didn’t recall caring for her, but she would never forget her now, although Lynne wasn’t as sure as Mrs. Stewart that Eric was destined to come back shortly. It didn’t trouble Lynne that Mrs. Stewart knew Lynne’s husband was again away, but her tone had been so assured; Eric would be back, and sooner than Lynne thought. That day wouldn’t be soon enough, Lynne sighed, walking into the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry, but lunchtime seemed like ages away. She chose a banana from the bunch, peeled it halfway, and took a bite. It was perfect for her, still firm but sweet, and she relished each mouthful. She threw the peel in the garbage, then got herself a glass of water. As she sipped from it, the phone rang.
She wasn’t sure who might be calling, as both Aherns were busy. Other than Stanford, then she shivered; had
something happened to Seth? Lynne grabbed the receiver, cleared her throat, then spoke. “Hello?”
“Hello Lynne. It’s Stanford.”
She breathed a quiet sigh. “Good morning Stanford. How are you?”
Her tone was measured. This call had nothing to do with her husband, but Stanford didn’t sound particularly upbeat. Then she blinked away tears. If Seth had killed himself so close to Christmas, Lynne wasn’t sure if she could take it.
“Um, I’m fine.” Stanford cleared his throat, making Lynne nauseous. Please don’t say it, she thought, please whatever you do, don’t say it…. “I just wanted to extend my condolences.”
Tears sprang from Lynne’s eyes. “Oh Stanford, oh please no….”
“Lynne, I didn’t mean to pry, but well, Christ. I just learned about Eric’s father, and while I know they weren’t close, I mean….” He coughed, then continued. “I just wanted to send you and Eric, from Laurie and myself, our most sincere apologies at this time of loss.”
For a few seconds, Lynne stopped breathing. Then she coughed, taking a long inhalation. “You want to send us your condolences,” she repeated slowly, wondering if she had heard him correctly.
Stanford sighed again. “We just learned the news this morning. I didn’t want to intrude previously, but having not spoken to Eric since, well, before Thanksgiving, I had to wonder. Was Eric with him, or is he already on his way back?”
Lynne reached for a chair from the kitchen table, quickly seating herself, grateful that she hadn’t fallen to the floor. Then she closed her eyes, thanking God that if Stanford’s information was correct, her husband might indeed be on his way home. “Well, the last I heard from him….”
She paused, for she hated to lie. Then she had a weak smile, opening her eyes. “The last thing I knew was that he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. I suppose he is on his way back.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. Did they call you yesterday?”
“Did who call me yesterday?”
Stanford coughed again. “Um, the, uh, authorities.”
“Oh yes, uh-huh.” She thought back to Mrs. Stewart’s words in the vestibule. “Yes, they did.”
“Well, did they say if Eric was there?”
Lynne took a deep breath. Whatever she told Stanford, she would need to write down, so later Eric could corroborate the details. “No, they didn’t mention him. Perhaps they didn’t wish to….”
All she could consider was that Eric hadn’t gone across the country, then she wept, for Seth must be all right. “How’s Seth, Stanford?”
“Oh, uh, he’s, well, the same. Laurie saw him last week; hopefully Seth will be on his way to Minnesota in the new year.”
“Oh, that’s good. We’ve all been praying for him.”
“Oh, well, um….” Stanford coughed loudly. “Well, I’ll tell Laurie, I’m sure it helps.”
Lynne wanted to cry. She also wanted to shout, laugh, then weep a little more. She needed to call both Renee and Sam, but maybe this week she wouldn’t go far from home. Eric might return before Christmas, he might be…. “Uh, what?” she asked, as the line had gone quiet.
“Lynne, I just wanted to tell you and Eric that we’re both, well, we’re glad that it’s over, I mean….” Again Stanford coughed. “He’s at peace now, I suppose.”
“Yes, of course, I’m sure he is.”
“And Eric, I assume he is now too.”
Lynne nodded, feeling that no matter where he was, Eric was indeed at peace. He might be cold and hungry, exhausted too, but if he’d had a chance to see his father, then the last four weeks would have been worth it, for both men. “Stanford, I so appreciate your call this morning. Yes, it’s been a difficult time, but as soon as Eric can, I’ll have him get back to you. And I’ll pass along your message, yours and Laurie’s. Please tell him we’re all keeping Seth in our thoughts and prayers.”
“Of course I’ll pass that along. And yes, once Eric’s home and has had a chance to rest, do have him give me a ring. Even if it’s on Christmas. Laurie and I will be at my parents, do you have Dad’s telephone number?”
“No, I, uh….”
Before Lynne could finish, she was reaching for a pad and pencil in the closest kitchen drawer. She scribbled down the information, still trying to maintain her composure. Then Stanford offered his goodbye, and Lynne wished him a merry Christmas and a happy new year. As soon as she hung up the phone, she burst into tears, which were a mix of happiness, slight sorrow, and some amusement. Stanford Taylor had inadvertently given Lynne the best news since she learned she was expecting Eric’s baby.
Later she shared all she knew with Sam and Renee, but not at their home. Sam had stopped by mid-afternoon, and was equally shocked and relieved with the information. Then he had smiled, noting that Stanford’s curiosity had been a godsend. Sam left to pick up Renee from work, but told Lynne they would return to the Snyders for dinner, just in case. Now, after a filling meal, the trio relaxed in the living room, a fire blazing. Lynne had no idea when Eric had left his father’s location, but maybe by early January, he would be safely home.
“Or maybe sooner. Maybe once Eric knew he was that sick, he just turned around and….”
“Renee, we have no idea what’s going on, other than it was Eric’s dad he went to see, and thank God for that.” Sam gave his wife a stern gaze, then smiled at Lynne. “At least we know a little more than before.” Then Sam chuckled, patting his wife’s shoulder. “Thank goodness Stanford’s as nosy as he is. And thank God Seth’s….”
Then Sam paused. He crossed himself, then gazed at the women. “Seth’ll probably live to see out the rest of 1961, and if God wills it, Eric will be home not long after that. That’s all we can hope for, whatever God has waiting for us.”
Lynne nodded, for she felt that was indeed true. She didn’t mind Stanford’s inquisitive nature, no better time for it to surface. And Sam was right; Seth probably would end up in Minneapolis, which was neither here nor there when it came to where Eric was now, on his way back to her. Lynne clung to that, for it was better than the complete uncertainty of before.
Before…. She smiled, then grasped Renee’s hand. “I don’t know anything other than Eric’s father’s at peace, and that Eric didn’t have to fly all the way east. You’re here with me and the baby, and it’s just a matter of time.”
Renee nodded, gripping Lynne’s hand. “It is, like when we were all little, waiting for Santa Claus.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Well, she has a point. To be honest with you both, that’s what it feels like. Santa’s gonna bring my husband home, one of these days.” Lynne smiled, then leaned back in her chair. She gazed at her middle, which visibly protruded. She patted her belly, then giggled. “I wonder what he’ll think of this.”
“He’ll think it’s beautiful,” Renee said. Then she sniffled. “And he’ll be painting you as soon as possible.”
Lynne nodded. “I’m sure he will.”
Sam said nothing, but he grunted, or what sounded like a grunt to Lynne. Then he stood, heading into the kitchen. Within minutes Lynne heard water running, but Sam didn’t return. Renee joined her husband, then stepped back into the living room. “Let’s give him some time,” she whispered to Lynne. “Said he wanted to wash those dishes before dessert.”
Lynne glanced toward the kitchen, then nodded, as Renee added wood to the fire. Suddenly the room grew warm, but Lynne wasn’t sure if it was the rising flames, or that Christmas meant more than this time yesterday. She looked at the tree, which seemed to shine more brightly, but she hadn’t added additional lights or ornaments. Renee sat beside her, grasping Lynne’s hands. Then Renee began reciting The Lord’s Prayer, and Lynne joined her. When they finished, Lynne asked God to be with Eric that night, wherever he was. And to be with Stanford, Laurie, and Seth too. Four men were on her mind, but one wasn’t exactly a man. Lynne didn’t need to mention that to God; all she had to do was wait. Eric was on
his way, of that she was certain.
Chapter 45
The Hawk: Part Three Page 5
