Page 126 of Resilience on Canvas

“Are family,” Henry finished for him. “I thought you were tryin’ to be better about letting people take care of you.”

“Iamtryin’,” Robert replied with a huff. When Robert swiveled his head to face Henry, Henry pushed his bottom lip forward to pout. Robert’s expression turned slightly mischievous. “Be careful with that. I’ll bite it.”

Henry leaned in to whisper into Robert’s ear. “Do you promise?”

At the table, Rose let out a big sigh. “Do you twohonestlythink we can’t hear you?”

Henry’s cheeks began to burn as Robert threw back his head and laughed.

“Come on, Robert,” Joe said. “Let me and Rosie help you make a little... what’s it called... a nest egg?”

Groaning, Robert said, “Fine. But only once you two save up a bunch for yerselves.”

“We’ve saved a little so far,” Joe said.

“Well, save up even more. None of us know how long these federal programs will last.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Rose said. “But once we have six months of expenses saved, we’ll be putting some toward the education of our niece and nephews.”

Henry’s heart fluttered.Niece and nephews.God, he loved knowing that Joe and Rose had come to think of themselves as family too.

Henry looked over at Robert to see that his cheeks had turned the cutest shade of pink. Probably he was as touched as Henry was. Or maybe even more so.

Because Robert wasn’t alone in taking care of everyone no more. Clara was making her own money. Henry’s parents happily took care of the kids on the weekdays. And now Rose and Joe wanted to help ensure that Thomas and Peter and May might find some kind of prosperity of their own in the future. Robert wasn’t shouldering the burden of being the sole provider no more.

Henry pulled Robert in for a sideways hug.

“I think this is the part where you say ‘thank you,’” he whispered (even though he knew that Rose could probably hear him fine).

“I know that! God, I need a minute to... to let the words settle in my brain,” Robert said. Sighing, he looked over at Rose and Joe. “So, that makes you two Uncle Joe and Aunt Rose, huh?”

“If you’d like,” Rose said.

Robert smiled a bit. “Yeah, I like it fine. Not that it matters, really, since the kids love you both. They’d have probably started calling you that themselves eventually. Just like they made Henry intoUncleHenry before either ofuseven thought of calling him that.”

Rose clasped her hands together and flashed them both a big smile. Joe slapped his thigh with enthusiasm.

“Dang, Rosie, we got ourselves a whole big family now.”

Just then, a series of knocks interrupted their conversation. Clara hurried past everyone to the front door. A moment later, she stepped aside to let Henry’s parents in. When Henry locked eyes with his father, Charles Sherwood threw him an encouraging wink. It had Henry’s entire body tingling, the familial warmth and parental love almost too much to bear. Henry looked over at his mom, who was carrying a casserole dish. Henry hadn’t spoken to her much since securing the spot with the Federal Art Project. Instinctively, he curled his shoulders forward to hide a bit. He still had a lingering worry that his mother wasn’t happy with how his life had turned out. Henry hadn’t found a “nice girl” to marry like she’d always wanted for him; instead, he had found the most passionate man in the entirety of Oklahoma, one who had a fiery temper and a streak of stubbornness. He hadn’t found work with one of the big industries in San Francisco, neither, like ship building or manufacturing, but instead was hoping to make a living as an artist for as long as he could. Henry hadn’t built the life for himself that his mother had always wanted for him. How in heaven could his mother ever be proud?

Robert bumped Henry with his elbow.

“Hey,” he said, his voice filled with concern and tenderness. “What’s wrong?”

“Nervous to see my mom,” Henry whispered.

“Didn’t you say that your old man was happy for you?” Robert asked. Henry only shrugged. “Why wouldn’t your mom be happy for you, too, then?”

“She’d have come over and talked to me,” Henry whispered, his eyes falling to the floor. “If she was happy for me. Or proud of me. I know my mom, Robert, and she’d have wanted to congratulate me.”

“Look at me,” Robert said, but Henry kept his eyes fixed on the tiles. “Dammit, Henry Davis, look at me!”

Henry snorted. He couldn’t not be amused by Robert’s whisper-yell. Slowly, Henry lifted his chin and met Robert’s brown eyes, which were now filled with so much fire that seeing them made Henry’s breath catch.

Robert said, “I’m proud of you. Clara is proud of you. Even Charles Goddamn Sherwood is proud of you. Most importantly,youare proud of you. Iknowyou are. Don’t forget that. No matter how the woman who raised you might feel.” Robert paused to wet his lips. He looked over his shoulder to see Clara chatting with Henry’s parents in the main room. “Go say hi to her. Go talk to her knowin’ that whatever she thinks, whatever she says, you made yerself afinelife here in the city. One that you ought tokeepbein’ proud of.”

Henry closed his eyes and sucked in a long breath.

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