Page 29 of Resilience on Canvas

Chapter Fifteen

Robert

Raymond Davis was finally in the ground.

Truthfully, the world was probably better for it.

Walking away from the burial plot he had selected near the barn, Robert untensed his muscles for what felt like the first time in forever.

Henry came up behind him and clapped Robert on the shoulder as he passed.

Earlier that morning, Henry had offered for him and his parents to take the children back to their house so Robert could talk to Clara in private.

Even though part of Robert still wished that him and Henry could talk to her together, maybe it was better this way.

Because Clara wouldn’t feel no need to put on a show for her new friend if it was only her and Robert.

She would be free to scream or cry or whatever she needed when she found out that their family was losing the farm.

Clara could fall to pieces. And Robert would be there to pick them up.

Robert held his breath as he and Clara walked into the house together.

Death seemed to be hovering like a specter in the shadows.

Ghosts of memories—some bad, some not—were haunting every corner of the main room.

It smelled faintly like cleaning solution, but the stench of their father’s passing lingered beneath it.

Robert wrinkled his nose. Heading into what had been their parents’ bedroom—the one Henry had cleaned for them not twenty-four hours before—Clara visibly shuddered.

Robert knew, then, that she could feel the reaper’s presence too.

He let out a breath and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Clara touched her fingertips to the wooden footboard post and said, “It’ll be strange to come back here with the kids soon.

I suppose it’ll be nice that one of us won’t have to keep sharin’ our bedroom since this one’ll be free now, but.

..” She shook her head. “I can still feel him here somehow.”

“I know. Me too.” Robert sat on the edge of the mattress. Its springs creaked beneath his weight. “I felt that way when Ma passed for a while. But it faded. With time.”

Robert cringed as the words left his mouth. Time. Time that they wouldn’t have. The way the house was now—its haunted presence included—that was the way it would stay for them in their memories. Unless he could figure out how to make every one of them missed loan payments. Even then...

Could he stand to keep living here? Coming back home now had colored his perception of it. It was coloring his thoughts of the future, too. After watching two of his parents succumb to illness within these walls, could Robert really continue on here? On the failing farm?

Even if Robert somehow found the money for them to stay, part of him... part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Still, he had to tell Clara what the bank had told him.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, Robert said, “Clara, I have to tell you somethin’. I think you ought to sit for it.”

“Oh. Alright. Uhm.” Clara sat beside him and immediately began twirling a lock of her hair. “What is it?”

Robert clenched his teeth as a tightness formed in his chest.

“Pop... he took out a loan from the bank some time back. When our family bought that extra land for the wheat crops, remember?” he asked.

Clara nodded. “Well, he took out the money to pay for it by offerin’ up the farm as collateral or somethin’.

He must have kept some money aside, too, that we eventually bought the tractor with.

So, that’s what we’ve been payin’ back. When Pop took the mortgage payments to the bank, he was tryin’ to pay back the loan for the land, too.

But before he passed, hestopped payin’.

” Robert curled one of his hands into a fist and struck the mattress between them.

“That Goddamn son of a bitch ruined everything. Yesterday, I went to the bank, and they... they told me that there ain’t no money in the whole farm now.

Not only that, but... but we’re losin’ it, Clara.

We’re losin’ the farm if I can’t make up the payments he missed. ”

Clara’s hands flew to her mouth, and the little knotted lock of hair fell to her chest, the strands coming to rest near her heart. She stilled, her eyes welling with tears.

After a moment, Robert mustered the strength to pry her hands from her face. He found his own eyes tearing from the sight of her trembling bottom lip.

“Oh, Lord, what’ll happen to us?” she eked out.

Tears tumbled from her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he said, the evenness in his voice wavering the tiniest bit. “I promise you, I’ll think of somethin’. I talked to Henry, and... Clara Marie, I promise we’ll fix this.”

“We? Robert, I can’t fix none of this.”

“No, I meant... I meant me and Henry.” Robert scooched closer.

“Hen’s a smart man, Clara. He was the one who sent me to the bank in the first place when I was tryin’ to come up with the money for the funeral.

I know that turned out not to be so helpful since they wouldn’t lend me no money, but my point is that me and him, we’ll fix this. Together. I know we will. ”

Me and Henry. Christ, what was Clara thinking now? Could she somehow sense that there was something between the two of them? Something romantic?

Ripples of worry rolled through Robert’s chest. Didn’t matter that Clara was one of the sweetest people in the entirety of Oklahoma. Robert had seen the way some people treated men like him. He couldn’t never picture Clara being mean to him, or, hell, hating him, but...

It would shatter his heart if she rejected him.

“You and Henry,” she repeated with a sniffle. “Do you really think you can fix this?”

“We will. I swear it.”

Clara sniffled once more, and then she wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. Robert thought that maybe that was it. Maybe Clara, innocent as she was, hadn’t caught on to what him and Henry were becoming to each other.

Or, hell, what they already were to each other.

Jesus Christ, things were moving so fast between them.

Maybe not the kissing and the... the other things Robert wanted with Henry, but things were moving fast in other ways.

Hell, Robert couldn’t never imagine his life without Henry now.

Holding Henry’s hand the other night, it had been like finding a lost piece of himself.

Just when Robert came to the conclusion that the conversation was over—smacking his knees to push himself to stand—Clara caught his wrist.

“You and Henry,” she repeated once more.

Robert’s breath caught. Clara began moving her tongue over her teeth, like she was trying to taste the way those three words sounded or something. Her hands found her hair again, but this time, she focused on smoothing it out, her fingers untangling the knot .

In a smaller, more tentative voice, she said, “It’s interesting how close y’all are now when the two of you really only started talkin’ earlier this month.”

Gently, Robert settled back onto the mattress.

“Yeah. It is,” he said.

“I haven’t never seen you take to someone so much before,” she said.

Robert inhaled a shallow, trembling breath, spots forming in front of his eyes. Son of a bitch, were him and Henry being that obvious? Or was it only the way Robert had phrased everything just now? Me and Henry. Christ.

Clara said, “It seems like it’s more than friendship, maybe?”

Robert went rigid.

“I’m sorry if I, uhm, if I misread things,” she said. “Did I?”

Robert’s hands started to tremble. He clenched them into fists, bracing himself for the inevitable harsh words that would soon follow once he forced himself to say the truth.

Because Robert couldn’t lie to her.

“No, you didn’t,” Robert said, his voice tight. “Me and Henry, we’re... something.”

Clara let out a hum. Robert’s muscles stayed tense as he prepared for her to lash out with something mean or hateful.

But then, in the sweetest, softest voice, Clara said, “Well, I think that’s wonderful, Robert. Truly.”

It took Robert a few seconds to register her words and internalize the meaning behind them.

And it took several more to let himself feel the love in her voice.

All his life, he had been keeping this to himself.

He hadn’t never thought of not keeping it to himself.

Not before this very moment. Why would he have ever chanced telling someone that he liked men?

He hadn’t never thought he’d be with a man in a romantic kind of way.

He hadn’t even known that there was a single other person like him in all of Guymon. But then, he had met Henry, and...

Christ Almighty, how had his life changed so Goddamn fast?

When the enormity of Clara’s words finally settled in Robert’s brain, he leaned forward and buried his head in his hands to try to stifle a cry. But he couldn’t keep the tears from falling. Silent sobs began to erupt out of him, and Clara rubbed his back, the touch soothing his heart.

Clara knew. Holy hell, she knew . She knew, and she still loved him.

What a miraculous thing it was.

Minutes passed. Eventually, Robert sat up and wiped his eyes with his callused fingers. Afterward, they sat in silence for a while with the weight of Robert’s truth hanging between them.

Robert rasped a soft, “Thank you.”

Clara lay her head on his shoulder. He turned and kissed it.

After a moment, he asked, “How did you know?”

“I’ve never seen you look at no one else like that before,” she said. “And the way you’ve been wanting to spend so much time with him, I knew it couldn’t be friendship.”

Robert bristled a little.

“Why couldn’t it have been friendship?” he scoffed. “I’m not that big of a recluse, am I?”

Clara laughed softly. “You are. And, Robert, you wanted to cook pancakes for the man.”

Son of a bitch, she had seen right through him.

Robert started to laugh, too. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”

Soon, their light laughter faded, and then that eerie and solemn silence was back.

Letting out a sigh, Robert said, “I really will figure out how to fix this.”

“I know,” she said. “You’ve never not taken care of us.”

Resting his head on top of Clara’s, Robert prayed for that to stay true.