Page 129 of Resilience on Canvas

“Neither do I.” Robert touched their lips together for a brief, tender kiss, one that made Henry’s stomach tumble, even with its softness. “I love you, Henry Davis.”

Henry tipped forward, touching their foreheads together.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Robert

OnthefirstTuesdayafter Henry had been paid by the Federal Art Project, Robert stayed home from the fields so he could walk with Henry to City Hall to see his first painting (well, the first for Uncle Sam, that was) hanging up somewhere on the second floor. Crossing the courtyard to the main entrance, Robert stretched out his hand to brush Henry’s fingers with his—a small, but hopefully impactful reminder that Robert was really Goddamn proud of his man. Henry’s lips curled into a small smile the moment Robert’s fingertips made contact with his.

Robert’s heart began hammering excitedly as they neared the entrance, and when he stepped across the threshold, his eyes widened with awe. Holy hell, was the building beautiful and impressive—with large stone columns and intricately carved moldings and a staircase that seemed like something belonging in a mansion or a castle, not a building owned by the city.

“Jesus,thisis where they hung yer paintin’?” Robert said.

“Yup. I think it was because of the subject matter, you know? They thought that it would be nice to hang outside the room where some of them Works Progress Administration folks sit.Maybe they thought it would remind them what their mission was.”

Robert nodded thoughtfully as they reached the staircase. The bottom ten steps or so were so large and rounded and spread out, it was as though they had been poured from a bottle of honey or syrup, rather than crafted out of marble or whatever material it was. At the top of the staircase, they made a right, and soon, they came upon Henry’s painting, hanging right there in the hall for everyone to see.

It was the painting of the little sapling peeking out from the powdery topsoil, but redone completely, with most of the colors muddy or muted or both, except for the vibrant emerald of the stubborn plant. The sapling itself had so much texture to it, the little leaves looking like they’d been plucked from a real garden. Below the painting—which was, in Robert’s opinion, the most Goddamn magnificent painting that had ever been made—was a little placard that said:

“Resilience”

by Henry Davis

c. 1935

Goosebumps pebbled over Robert’s skin as his eyes filled with tears. He turned to see Henry’s mouth twisted up in happy confusion.

One tear slid down Robert’s cheek, and he wiped it away.

“You, Henry Davis, are one talented son of a bitch,” he said with a sniffle. “God, I can’t even believe yer mine.”

“Why are you so worked up? Didn’t you see me paintin’ this back at our place?”

“Well, yeah, but seein’ it here... Jesus Christ, little wolf, nothin’ could have prepared me for this.” Robert paused to wipe away a few more tears that had fallen. “Holy hell, youmadethat.”

Henry chuckled, his cheeks turning red. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again before shoving his hands in his pockets with a half-hearted shrug.

“Incredible,” Robert said. “Do you know what yer paintin’ next? Or where it’ll be? Dammit, Hen, I need to see every single one of yer creations. No matterwherethey wind up in the city.”

“Uhm, I’m not sure, exactly, but they told me that some weeks, I’ll be free to paint whatever I want, as long as it’s not too political in the, uh, wrong way or nothin’, and other weeks, they said I’ll be makin’ posters for the WPA. Or, uhm, next month they want me to work with a couple of other folks to paint a mural somewhere. I think that’ll be fun.”

Robert inhaled a shaky breath, still so overwhelmed by both Henry’s talent and their new life. Fortune had smiled upon them out here in San Francisco. And it was warmer and brighter and more miraculous than even the California sun.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Robert said, his voice wavering as he was hit with a second wave of emotion. “But I think we need to leave soon or else I’ll start blubberin’ right in the middle of City Hall.”

Henry’s sweet smile broadened. “Yeah, I was kind of hopin’ we’d head back soon. Because we’re supposed to have the whole house to ourselves.”

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and raised both his eyebrows.

Robert smiled through his tears.

“Well, we can’t let such a perfect opportunity go to waste now, can we?” He took a step toward Henry and leaned in close. In a whispered voice, he said, “And, if I’m rememberin’ right, I haven’t thanked you properly for your first paycheck.”

Henry let out a soft sigh.

“Don’t worry, little wolf, I’ll fix that as soon as we’re home.”

---