Page 43 of Resilience on Canvas

“Yeah,” Henry said, cutting him off. “Definitely, yes. I’ll stay however long you want me to stay. I have nowhere else to be. Nope. Nowhere.”

Robert snorted. Good God, Henry was something else. Charming without even trying to be. Sweet, too. Sweeter than the finest marmalade.

“Alright, well, we better head back, then,” Robert said, pushing himself to stand. And then, oh God, some terrible, horrible, shameful,wonderfulidea popped into his head. He couldn’t have stopped the next words from tumbling out of his mouth if he had tried. But, of course, he hadn’t tried. Not even a little. “Bring yer pilla. Just in case. Because our couch would be comfy enough for you to sleep on, I think, if the two of us wind up... losin’ track of time.”

Henry’s eyes widened and he sucked in a fast breath.

Through an exhale, he said, “Yeah, I can foresee that happenin’, maybe.”

Whether the two men would spend the bulk of the night talking or kissing, Robert wasn’t sure. But there was one thing hewassure of, which was that he wanted to spend the entiretyof it—every Goddamn second—as close to Henry Sherwood as possible.

“No, not maybe,” Robert said, his voice low and raspy and tantalizing, even to himself. “I think we ought to count on it.”

Henry let out a little sound, one that was like a happy whimper.

And boy, if that wasn’t the sweetest sound Robert had ever heard.

***

It was maybe an hour and a half later when Robert finally finished putting the kids to bed. By some miracle, his pop hadn’t yet woken up, and so, bedtime had gone much more smoothly than Robert had anticipated. The worst part of it had been that Robert had to clear the room of crickets and cockroaches before the kids could get into bed. Damn bugs seemed to think they owned the place whenever Robert was out for too long. But other than that, bedtime had been a breeze.

With the little ones safe in their bedrooms and Clara relaxing on the couch, Robert went outside to find Henry. Having figured that bedtime would be a small nightmare, with Raymond Davis either hollering to try to pick a fight or otherwise insisting that everyone listen to one of his half-coherent stories, Robert had made Henry wait in his car. He hadn’t wanted his pop to embarrass him. Again.

But Robert found Henry sitting on the porch instead.

“I was tired of sittin’ in the car. Sorry.”

“Didn’t you hear how peaceful it was in there?” Robert asked, turning up the first of two oil lamps they had out on the porch. “I read May one of her bedtime stories while Clara read one to the boys, and then it was lights out. Easy as pie.”

Dipping his head, Henry smiled and said, “So, uhm, what should we do?”

“I want to relax with a cigarette.” Robert took the second porch light off of the wall and increased the flame. He moved to the edge of the porch and leaned over the railing, craning his head to see the sky. “Ain’t too bad out here. Not too much dust in the air. Want to sit with me on the roof?”

“On theroof?”

“Yeah, the roof. Weren’t you ever a kid? It’s nice up there. We can enjoy the stars.” Holding onto one of the posts, Robert climbed up onto the porch railing. He reached up and set the lamp on the edge of the rooftop. “And if you end up havin’ fun up there, I won’t feel so bad for makin’ you stay outside longer while I have a smoke.”

Robert hoisted himself up onto the porch roof, which was flat enough for them to lie on comfortably, and then Henry stood up on the porch railing, too, but wobbled a little. With a snort, Robert reached out to offer Henry his hand. Henry clutched onto it, and the feel of Henry’s skin sent little tremors of want rippling through Robert’s body, making his breath catch. What a fine plan this turned out to be. It was the perfect excuse to hold Henry’s hand.

Henry struggled to hoist himself up.

“How’d you make this work?” Henry asked, relaxing his muscles and setting his feet back onto the railing. “I can’t pull myself up like that.”

Robert pointed toward the window. “Gotta put yer foot on the winda ledge while you climb.”

“Alright,let me try again.”

Henry tried once more, and this time, he succeeded in pulling himself up. Still holding Henry’s hand, Robert scooted backward, making a path in the thick layer of brown dust that had settled up there, and when he reached a spot toward the middle of the porch, he swept his free hand back and forth a couple of times to clear a place for his head. Henry copied him, clearing himself a spot while clicking his tongue.

“Gosh, it’s terrible what’s happenin’ to our land,” he said.

“No kiddin’.”

Once they had both cleared spots for their heads, Robert froze, and Henry seemed to as well. They had a choice to make. Robert was holding Henry’s right hand with his ownright hand, which meant that they couldn’t sit next to each other like this. Either they’d have to sit facing each other on their knees, which wouldn’t make watching the sky too easy, or they’d have to let go. And that would only put both of them in a position to makeanotherchoice, which was whether or not they ought to hold hands some more once they were settled. Robert’s breath shook. Christ, this was big. If he and Henry started holding hands, likereallyholding hands, that would mean something.

Could Robert stand to risk everything he had been working for?

Henry must have been thinking the same Goddamn thing because his eyes fell to their linked hands and he squirmed a little.

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