By late Saturday afternoon two households were being reordered. In New York, nearly all of the Snyders’ belongings were tucked in several suitcases, leaving one Manhattan apartment somewhat bereft, not to mention the owners of that residence feeling out of place. Laurie tried not to think how empty his and Stanford’s home would be after their guests departed, while Stanford wished Eric would leave behind some of the Queens sketches. And occasionally, Stanford wondered if there might be time for Eric to fashion one more drawing, but an appropriate moment to extend that request never materialized.
In a sleepy West Coast town, Renee and Sam tackled dust and a small amount of gardening, although Renee did most of the work. Renee had been correct, Sam mused while making coffee; his brothers hadn’t wiped their feet well, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Sam wondered if Ted and Henry’s lack of decorum was intentional, well, maybe on Ted’s part. Sam couldn’t imagine for what other reason his wife would be in this house, even if the usual occupants were away.
Sam sighed, sitting in Lynne’s kitchen, while Renee bustled about outside. Sam had started the mower, although it took a lot from him, in part that the mower hadn’t been run since last fall. And now that he was on his feet, Sam was weary. He wondered exactly when Eric would want to start the painting, then Sam took a sip of luke-warm coffee. He stared at his mug, then smiled, pondering the state of the world in which he found even tepid decaf a necessity.
Maybe it was only within this property that Sam would drink such a beverage. He’d made the pot simply out of habit, although there was no pie to accompany. He gazed around the room, wishing Lynne was there, Eric too, and of course Jane. Sam missed that little girl with a fierce ache; he also missed Frannie’s kids, he couldn’t wait to feel back to normal. Then he heard Renee come in through the living room French doors. Sam’s heart beat irregularly within his chest. As she stepped into the kitchen, he studied her; she wore a kerchief in her hair, one of his old t-shirts, dungarees and tennis shoes, and she smelled like freshly cut grass. He smiled, finding her so beautiful in such an odd get-up, but she looked stern, like a taskmaster. She was only here under duress.
A terrifying notion rippled through Sam; his wife would never again come to this home, or at least not dressed like usual. He’d never see her here in a nursing uniform, or in one of her pretty dresses, or in casual slacks. Sometimes in summer she wore Capri pants, in winter she like corduroys. But the ensemble she now donned was that of a domestic, like she was the cleaning lady. She poured herself some coffee, took a sip, made a face. “Goodness, decaf’s awful,” she said, promptly dumping the contents down Lynne’s sink.
While she got herself a glass of water, Sam drank his coffee, which wasn’t that bad, although it tasted better hot. He wanted to say that to his wife, but didn’t wish to start an argument. He turned her way, then met her gaze. Her eyes looked cold, making him shiver inwardly. His lovely, warmhearted, at times impetuous wife was trapped deep inside this bitter, angry woman. How in the world could Sam rescue her?
A soldier stood in front of him; Renee had been sent to the front lines, as mentally prepared as any man with whom Sam had fought, or those who wanted to get out of that mess with as much of themselves as intact as possible. But sometimes all that rational preparation was lost in the midst of battle, Sam had watched it happen. Occasionally the well-equipped man stumbled as hell swirled around him; how many times had Josh carried a member of their platoon back to the unit? Josh had done the heavy lifting, for he was the brawniest guy in the troop. Sometimes those injured men displayed no outward wounds. They had fought and fought until they could fight no more.
That was Renee, Sam realized, yet he had no expertise in this sort of counseling. And Renee didn’t want help; too afraid of again being hurt, she had ended her sessions with Marek, closing off that part of her heart. Yes, she could be here, to clean. Sam stared at how she leaned against the counter, arms crossed, then she would reach for her glass, sipping her water, but as soon as she was done, that cup went to the Formica while Renee again clenched those upper limbs over her chest like a shield.
Faint lines edged her mouth, crows’ feet settling around her opaque eyes. Those eyes appeared so aged, like many of the men in Sam’s platoon. They had witnessed more mayhem than was good for anyone, but all had been too damn young to properly process the turmoil. It was then slotted away, and some were better at keeping it in than others. Some men had a flair for combat, Sam wouldn’t deny that. And some had a gift for how to weave that chaos into their civilian lives. Sam possessed the latter, and he hadn’t been a bad soldier. If Josh had lived, Sam guessed he would be much the same, maybe Larry Hudson too. But who knew, Sam mused. Maybe it was better for those men to have died in Korea than to have come home wrecked in different ways.
And what of those attached to soldiers? Could Sam have ever imagined the grief Renee would suffer, of course not. He never would have enlisted if even one iota of her pain had been foreseen. Then Sam trembled; Eric had married Lynne under a similar cloud. Both knew fully well that Eric’s life was troubled, yet they hadn’t been deterred. They’d been young, Sam permitted, maybe youth was the difference. Sam and Renee had been young too, married already, when Sam swore an oath to his country. But they’d had no idea what was waiting overseas.
Some of the vets Sam counseled were married, a few were divorced. Some had never found a wife, like Seth. Sam was curious as to how that man was faring in Florida, and he hoped Eric had good news to share. Then Sam wondered if that news would only go as far as himself. Would Renee care, or was she cutting out these people lock, stock, and barrel? Maybe if he asked, then Sam would know just how final was this visit. He cleared his throat, catching her attention. If he said it quickly enough, her reaction might be all the answer necessary. “So Renee, if Eric knows anything about Seth, shall I tell you?”
Sam looked at her as he spoke, yet his voice was as flat as he could make it. She blinked, staring at her shoes. Then she gazed up as if wanting to meet his eyes. But she couldn’t look him in the face. Instead she seemed to focus on the far wall, where Sam imagined one day another table would sit, where Lynne did arts and crafts with Jane and whoever else came along.
The room was silent and Sam kept Renee in his sights. She was breathing, he could tell by how her chest rose, then fell, still well protected by her upper limbs. But now she gripped her forearms and her lip trembled. Sam ached to rush to her side, but he had to stay seated. Yes, this was a test. It was now or never, then Sam fought a smile. Shit or get off the pot Ahern, but for the first time the memory of Josh’s admonishment wasn’t for Sam.
Renee began to quiver and looked to be fighting tears. Sam wondered if she was waiting for him to embrace her, but something held him back, for no one could pull her over this hurdle. She wasn’t like the men Josh had carried back to their foxhole and for that Sam was grateful. Those men had fallen apart so completely, Sam hadn’t been sure they would ever put themselves together.
Sam’s wife was involved in a different skirmish; Sam felt a chill and he prayed for Renee. This was a war far above Sam’s ability to mediate except via divine intercession. And yet it was the most important fight of his life, for what little he could do. Renee’s beautiful heart, so long suffering, was being ripped apart by a vicious foe, but God was on the Aherns’ side.
Renee remained silent, but now tears fell down her face, making Sam squirm. But as God had demanded Lynne’s trust, he now needed Sam’s belief. Ironic how a few years ago, Sam had stood in this kitchen, completely incredulous of all that Lynne had claimed. He had considered her an insane liar and had slammed the door in his wake as if to make certain she knew it. Even after Eric returned, Sam was still skeptical. He had made the overture when Lynne went to retrieve the casserole dishes. But still Sam had thought the worst about her until he witnessed Eric turning into a bird.
What did Renee think about Lynne Snyder? They had been good friends, then were bound by an incredible secret. That link
was permanently sealed by one baby’s birth, Jane’s baptism an added yoke that initially carried no burden. Renee felt guilty about not upholding her role as Jane’s godmother, Sam knew that. But remorse wouldn’t heal Renee’s heart; it only added further fuel to an erroneous argument that had been festering within Renee. All of these negative elements were driving Sam’s wife farther from those who loved her most. And, Sam admitted with a great deal of relief, he wasn’t on top of that list.
The Aherns still attended church, Renee right at Sam’s side every week for communion. She went to confession, or said she did, and Sam assumed that she never missed it. But the biggest admission was probably hidden deeply within her and it had nothing to do with Lynne or Jane, or even Sam. Now Sam stared at his wife, wondering how she could remain on her feet, what with the cauldron bubbling inside her. Yet he stayed seated, aware that God was in control.
Sam didn’t ask why Renee was being so tested. That would be like asking why Eric turned into a hawk, why Sam had gotten shot, why Josh and Larry had died. Why had God sent his own son to Earth, but men ignored the largest blessing ever proffered? Why had Peter denied Christ three times, then become his chosen disciple? Why was a silly question, Sam knew. Why was the opposite of faith.
But Christ had been divine, whereas human beings were most certainly not. To question was at the root of sin, how the serpent had led Eve to eat that apple to realize the difference between good and bad, but the differences were relative. Was it bad that Sam couldn’t father a child, that Eric became a hawk? Sam felt it was wrong how much Renee hurt, but then he hadn’t seen any initial purpose to Eric’s horrific transformations. Sam had learned a lot about trust in those ensuing months, then Jane was born and…. And now Sam and Renee were at the Snyders’, where that family would be tomorrow. Was this truly the last time Renee would stand in this kitchen?
Sam gazed around the room. It wasn’t exactly the same as when he had thought Lynne was crazy. It was altered, as were all of them. Sam even drank decaf coffee without hesitation, well, he could tell a difference, but that didn’t mean decaf was lousy, just not as strong as regular. What change was God trying to forge within Renee that would cause Satan to so strongly oppose? That was how Sam now saw all that had occurred over the last year. He swallowed hard; a year had passed since Frannie had told them about the twins, but in that year Sam had accepted how much fatherhood meant to him. Was it right that Renee had suffered so much, Sam wasn’t sure. Eric and Lynne had gone to hell and back countless times, and maybe they weren’t done. And what about Seth? Would that man ever be well?
Renee still hadn’t answered Sam’s query, so he repeated it. But this time, his tone carried great weight, for it wasn’t simply about Laurie’s cousin. This inquiry encompassed all whom Sam held dear. For if Renee didn’t wish to know about Seth, she was also writing off everyone connected to that man, the New Yorkers as well as the family who dwelled in this residence, a family that was also bound to the Aherns, if not by blood, then by Christ.
Sam and Renee were Jane’s godparents. Eric was Sam’s brother and Lynne was…. She was Renee’s sister. If Renee didn’t want to know about Seth, eventually she would turn away from her blood relatives, Sam’s family, leaving her utterly alone. That was what Satan wanted, for then Renee’s heart would be dead, her soul as well. Sam said a brief prayer, maybe it wasn’t even an actual appeal. He simply considered his savior’s name and how the devil had tempted Jesus. For forty days and nights Christ had endured enticement. Surely God wouldn’t try Renee any longer than was absolutely necessary.
Or maybe she was standing there solely due to Christ. Then Sam nodded, although it wasn’t just to himself. He looked up, finding Renee’s arms limp at her sides, her sodden eyes red blobs in her face. Her cries were silent, but Sam thought that was for his benefit; she looked to have expended as much pain as Eric had during that awful week in December, yet Eric hadn’t been able to mask the shrieks attached to such difficult healing. Sam stood, feeling pulled in his wife’s direction. Slowly he approached her, inhaling the most healing fragrance he’d ever encountered. It carried a hint of incense, buffered by candle wax, but the third part was a soothing mystery that Sam only considered briefly. For in front of him stood someone he remembered well, but who had been lost for months and months. This tender, precious woman was Sam’s wife, Jane’s godmother and namesake. She was one of Christ’s lambs having been returned to her husband by a most watchful, loving shepherd.
Sniffles shook Renee’s whole frame and Sam carefully stroked her wet face. “It’s okay honey, I love you. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
She started to nod, then hesitated, finding his gaze. Her eyes were so cloudy, but in those white-gray irises, Sam could see the girl he had fallen in love with, the woman he had married, and another face, which made his heart rumble like a train within his chest. This woman still wanted to be the mother of his children. Sam inhaled sharply, finding that peaceful scent within the Snyders’ kitchen. He didn’t ponder its origins or when he and Renee would…. The past or future didn’t matter, only that moment as Renee collapsed into Sam’s arms, her warm, soft body merging with his. Then her sobs rang out, but muffled against Sam’s chest, their sting was lessened. Renee bawled like a baby as Sam gently rubbed her back, kissing the side of her face, her tears salty and warm. They were also a salve poured out like the balm used upon Jesus’ feet. Sam felt his savior’s presence all around them as if angels were tending Renee’s wounds. It was how Sam had felt when Josh died within his arms, but this time there was no agony or fear. Renee’s eyes were closed, but when they opened, Sam would relish their brightness, also the new vision with which they saw the world. Not that his wife would lose her brassy nature, he smiled, telling her how much he loved her. But that brazenness would now be tempered with a newly forged tenderness best befitting…. A mother, Sam permitted, as new life bounced within his ribcage. If God had another plan, Sam wouldn’t argue. But maybe it was time, for both Aherns. Sam prayed for God’s will, then gave thanks to Christ for the broken yet healed woman trembling in his grasp.
Chapter 108
The Hawk: Part Six Page 10
