The Pieces We Keep(147)

Audra braced herself as Jack rinsed his brush in a cup. He dabbed at the palette to obtain another color. With a smooth stroke of green, he placed the couple on the grass.

No flames. No planes. No darkness or death.

He even put smiles on their faces. Adding to the scenery, he hung a yellow sun in the sky, launched a pair of birds upward, and planted trees on the ground. All symbols of the brightness and beauty of life.

Although relieved at first, Audra worried he was simply following orders, depicting “happier things” to appease those around him.

Then he paused, drawing back to study his progress. That’s when his mouth curved up in a look of genuine delight—and Audra’s mouth did the same.

She did wonder, though, about the identity of the couple; a lot of options had crossed her mind.

“Hey, Jack,” she ventured to ask, “who are those people supposed to be?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Just two people.”

She thought about asking him in another way but then realized there was no need. When it came to viewing art, all that mattered was interpretation.





Later that night, Audra lay down in bed and closed her eyes with a feeling of satisfaction. It seemed only a moment had passed when she opened them again, yet sunlight was streaming through her window. Squinting against the rays, she languidly stretched her arms. She reveled in her restfulness until startled by a sense.

Something was wrong.

Jack.

Panic shot through her, the kind from early motherhood, when crib death was only a breath away.

She tore from her bed, heart in her throat, and in the next room discovered his bed empty. A thousand horrific scenarios sped through her thoughts, interrupted by the melody of a cheery tune. She hurried out to the living room and found Jack on the couch, the computer open on his lap, a bowl of Froot Loops at his side.

“Hi, buddy,” she said, recovering.

“Hi, Mom.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just playing a game. I’m trying to find Grace’s penguin at the pizza parlor. We’re supposed to meet at nine.”

Nine o’clock. She glanced toward the kitchen to verify the time on the microwave. When the realization struck, she nearly wept from joy.

Jack had slept through the night.





68


“Should we wake her?” Vivian whispered.

In his brimmed hat and coat, Gene stood beside Vivian in the doorway of Judith’s room. “Let’s let her sleep,” he answered, his reasoning obvious. Their little girl looked too peaceful to disturb at this hour. Outside her window, dusk had barely begun to lift.

“I’ll just kiss her good-bye,” Vivian said, unable to leave without this small token. They had spent not a single night apart since Judith was born.

Silently Vivian padded over to the crib, where the toddler lay on her back, arms spread wide. Her stuffed giraffe was tucked at her side. Its flimsy, spotted body was half covered by the very blanket that had swathed Judith when she had first come home from the hospital. The beginning of their lives together as a family.

Vivian leaned over the rail, hands covering the large buttons of her overcoat to prevent them from knocking against the crib. She touched her lips to the crown of Judith’s head, light as an angel’s kiss. “Sleep well, lovey bug,” she said in a hush, and had to resist the impulse to scoop her up and take her along.

This trip was not appropriate for Judith yet. But if all went well, someday she, too, would make the trek and meet the man who had gifted Vivian with the greatest treasure in the world: the life of her beautiful daughter.

“Vivi,” Gene whispered.

It was time to leave.

She exited the room in the same fashion she had entered, continuing into the hallway. Gene paused to send Judith a final loving look before closing the door without noise.

“I’ll get our suitcases,” he said, and headed to their bedroom. In the kitchen, Luanne was brewing a pot of coffee, filling the air with its rich aroma. She had arrived already dressed, but a scarf still covered her curlers.

“Sorry to make you come over so early,” Vivian said to her. “I would have preferred a later train, but you know your brother. He insisted we take the first one out.”

“It’s no trouble. Fred was up most of the night studying for his exams. I couldn’t sleep well anyway.”

In this moment, face-to-face with Luanne, an urge to tell the truth scaled the walls of Vivian’s conscience. Gene had insisted the arrangements he made were on the stipulation of keeping them confidential. He had assured his contact that even their families believed they were escaping to Cape Cod, to a secluded inn on the coast with no phones, no radio.

But what if Judith were to have an emergency?