Page 45 of Resilience on Canvas

Christ, of course there was.

“Alright!” he said. “I’ll be right there!”

Clara went back into the house, and Robert heaved a sigh.

“Sorry, Hen,” he said. “Goddamn bastard old man of mine keeps ruinin’ things for us.”

“It’s no problem,” Henry said with a shrug. “Family can be, uhm, complicated.”

“Yeah.” Robert ran his free hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?”

Henry pouted. “Should I not stay no more? I have my pilla in my car still.”

“Probably not. Clara’s never sounded like that before. Well, not since our ma...”

Robert trailed off, and Henry squeezed Robert’s hand.

“Well, I, uhm, I hope it ain’t nothin’ like that,” Henry said.

Robert only shrugged. In truth, he wasn’t too sure what he was hoping for.

“I’ll come to the store tomorrow,” he said. “Yer workin’, right?”

“Yup. I start work at noon,” Henry confirmed with a nod.

“Alright, well, I’ll come by then,” Robert said. “And you can visit me when I work on Friday. Maybe we could come up here if it’s nice out that night. We can leave the store together, have supper, and then... then maybe we can have some time to ourselves.”

Henry smiled sweetly, and Robert’s stomach tumbled again.

“That would be nice,” Henry said.

Clara threw open the window, and both men startled from the clatter.

“Robert!”

“I’ll be right there!” Robert yelled. “Just sayin’ bye to Henry first!”

“Well, hurry!”

Robert rolled his eyes, and then he and Henry stood together, still holding hands. When they reached the edge of the porch, Robert squeezed one more time before letting go. Henry scrambled down first, followed by Robert, who took the lamp with him.

“Well, uhm, see you,” Henry said before turning to walk to his car.

Robert caught his hand. He just had to hold it one more time.

“Goodnight, Hen,” he said, squeezing Henry’s fingers.

Henry smiled. “Night, Robert.”

Robert watched Henry climb into his car.

And then he turned to face whatever the hell was waiting for him inside.

Chapter Twelve

Henry

Itwasthelasthalf hour of Henry’s shift at the store, and Robert had yet to show up. Henry’s eyes were fixed on the clock as his fingers tapped the counter right along with the rhythm of the second hand.Tick, tick, tick.Henry blew out a breath. Questions kept running through his head. Over and over. What had been wrong with Robert’s father? Was he okay? Most importantly, wasRobertokay?

---