Page 127 of Resilience on Canvas

“You’re right,” he said, trying to exhale his trepidation. “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Henry circled around Robert, only barely resisting the urge to hug him, and met up with his parents in the living room.

“Hey, son,” his father said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Henry smiled back. “Hi.”

Charles Sherwood held up a bottle of port.

“I realized that we never properly congratulated you on your place,” he said.

Henry’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, wow.” His father handed him the bottle, and Henry turned it over in his hands. “Thank you.”

“I’ll put it in the kitchen for you,” his father said, taking the bottle back. “Clara, will you show me where I can put this? You’ve been here enough times now. I’m hoping that you know.”

“Yes, I can show you,” Clara said with a sugary smile. “Come on.”

Henry’s father followed Clara into the kitchen, and after they’d left, Henry let himself meet his mother’s eyes. Gosh, he was nervous, his stomach churning as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Henry,” she said. Her smile stretched so wide her eyes crinkled in the corners, and Henry’s breath caught. He wasn’t sure when the last time was that he had seen her smile at him like that. Probably not since he had said he would marry Clara. “I made potatuh pancakes.”

She tilted the casserole dish toward him, showing him the piles of pancakes.

“Aren’t they your... uhm... your husband’s favorite?” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Henry’s heart stuttered as time suddenly came to a stop. Had his mother really called Robert hishusband? Good God, nothing in Henry’s life had prepared him for this moment. Not one thing.

His mom’s brow creased with what looked to be uncertainty.

“I’m sorry. Am I not supposed to call him that?”

“No!” Henry spluttered. “Sorry, I-I mean of course you can call him that. Because that’s what he is to me.” Henry winced from a sudden pang of unease. “I know that’s not what you wanted for me, but—”

“All I’ve ever wanted for you was happiness,” she said. “Once upon a time, I thought that having a wife would make you happy. I thought maybe college or working in a bank would make you happy. But I can see that you’re happy with... other things.”

Henry screwed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Henry. I’m not mad.”

He peeked one eye open. “Really?” She nodded, and he opened his other eye. “But you.. . well, you haven’t said nothin’ since I was hired by the WPA.”

“I know. And I should have. Goodness, I know I should have talked to you about it, but...” She let out a long sigh. “Look, last week, Iwasfeeling a little...”

“Disappointed?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes. But I’ve had some time to think. And I’ve realized that I want you to be happy more than I want for you to have the life I had planned for you in my head.” One corner of her mouth twitched into a small smile. “Besides, your father says you arequitethe artist these days. I remember you buying some special pencils or paints back in Oklahoma City, but Ineverthought it would be something that you’d fall in love with. Or something that could make you money. I wish you’d have told me how passionate you were about this kind of thing back in Guymon.”

“Would you have supported me back then? Truly?”

She pursed her lips to think.

After a moment, she shook her head. “Probably not. I might have told you to put that much work into... well, intoworking.” She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “Actually, I think I’d have probably told Uncle Bob that he ought to give you more hours at the store.” She smiled a little. “I’m sorry, Henry. I reallywouldlike to see your paintings. If you’ll let me.”

“Of course I’ll let you.” He took the tray of potato pancakes from her and nodded toward the stairs. “I can show you now if you wouldn’t mind waitin’ a couple extra minutes for lunch.”

“I’d love that.”

Henry brought the tray of potato pancakes into the kitchen. As soon as he saw Robert, he tried to reassure his husband with a nod and then turned to escort his mother up to the bedroom. She crossed the threshold with a look of wonderment on her face, her eyes wide as she took in the many paintings and charcoal drawings scattered around the room.

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