Page 128 of Resilience on Canvas

“Did you really make all of these?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, I-I made ’em. Some of them are only half finished, but I still think they’re... well, I think they’re—”

“Amazing,” she finished for him.

“Yeah? You really think so?”

“Goodness, Henry, I had no clue you had this much talent in you.” She mouthed a silent “wow” as she spun in a small circle. “And they’ll really be paying you to paint like this?”

“Uhm, supposedly. I haven’t been paid yet, but I’m hopin’ to turn in my first piece next week.”

“Lord in heaven,” she marveled. Slowly, Henry’s mother walked over toward him, her eyes still flitting from one piece of artwork to the next, and then she took both his hands in hers. “It takes realcourageto pursue something like this. Gosh, I’m so happy for you.”

Henry’s eyes welled up with tears. He inhaled a shuddered breath as Robert’s voice came in from the hall.

“Henry?” he called out. “Are you up here?”

Henry swallowed past the lump in his throat, and his mom removed her hand from his face.

“Yeah, I’m in our room,” he shouted back.

Robert strolled into the room, a big smile on his face.

“Showin’ yer mom how Goddamn talented you are?” he said.

Henry’s cheeks warmed. “Somethin’ like that.”

Robert moved to reach for Henry’s hand, but stopped himself, pulling his hand back right before their fingers touched. Henry’s hand shot out to take Robert’s instead.

Robert crooked an eyebrow, as though to maybe ask Henry if he was sure they ought to be holding hands like this in front of his mother, and Henry responded with a warm smile and a nod as he laced their fingers together. Robert’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

After a couple of seconds, he turned to Henry’s mother.

Robert cleared his throat and said, “Thank you for the pancakes, Lillian.”

“Henry said they were your favorite.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I like to have them with marmalade. Sweet and salty together is probably my favorite thing. Food tastes more interesting that way.” He looked over at Henry with a teasing smile and a playful sparkle in his eye. “And I like things that are interesting.”

He squeezed Henry’s hand as though to make a point, and Henry had to purse his lips to keep himself from smiling too much.

“Yeah, I like interesting things too,” Henry said, squeezing back.

A rumble of footsteps rushing past the bedroom echoed through the hall. Peter, Thomas, and May must have been rushing back to the kitchen for food.

Henry’s mother smiled warmly. “Alright, well, I think I better see if Clara needs help setting the table.”

“We’ll be there in a little minute,” Henry said.

Henry and Robert stayed like that until Henry’s mother’s footsteps seemed to reach the stairs, and then Robert yanked Henry close. He released Henry’s hand and placed one hand on either side of his waist, towing their hips together.

“Holdin’ my hand like that in front of yer mother,” he chided with a smirk. “I went and found myself the bravest son of a bitch in San Francisco, huh?”

Henry’s cheeks began to burn. “Maybe.”

“God, I’m so proud of you,” Robert said.

Henry smiled shyly. “Robert, I never want to feel like I have to hide how much I love you from the people in our family. Even if we can’t show our love to the world yet, I never want to hide it here in our home.”

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