Page 31 of Resilience on Canvas

Chapter Seventeen

Robert

Robert was sitting on the sofa next to Clara in the living room of Henry’s parents’ house, trying to relax. Clara and the kids had practically begged him to let them come back here for a light lunch once the church service had finished. And Robert hadn’t been able to make himself say no.

It seemed like every day that came to pass, he was becoming more and more indebted to these people.

It felt like his sense of self was being stripped away, each meal or beverage that the Sherwoods shared with him and his family one more rake of a paint scraper, peeling off the facade of who Robert believed himself to be.

Robert was supposed to be the caretaker.

He was the eldest sibling. He’d been responsible for other people since he was three and a half.

Hell, he could still remember how his life had changed when his sister Clara had been born.

Those first memories may have been fuzzy, but Robert could still recall a handful of crystal-clear scenes in his mind.

During the first few weeks of Clara’s life, Robert had already been put to work to start helping with her—fetching the baby blanket from wherever his mother had last left it, finding extra pins for Clara’s diapers, and even sometimes holding his sister for a few minutes while his mother prepared supper.

Robert had even started tucking himself into bed so that his mother could rock Clara to sleep in the next room.

Every year since, Robert had taken on more responsibilities, some of them given to him by his folks—like seeing that the twins and May made it to school on time—and others he had taken on himself—like making sure that his father’s fury was only ever leveled at him, not his mother or his siblings.

Even though it wasn’t easy taking care of everybody, especially once his mother had passed, Robert found pride in it, too.

It had become not only what he did , but who he was .

Who was Robert Davis if he wasn’t the one taking care of his family?

Robert was still lost in his thoughts when Henry’s mother brought out some peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

Absentmindedly, he took one from the tray and began munching on it, though the flavor didn’t even register on his tongue.

Clara started chatting with Henry’s mother, and the murmur of their conversation rang in Robert’s ears, individual words blending together and sounding like nothing more than gibberish to his muddled mind.

He was startled out of his half-formed, self-pitying thoughts when he heard the beautiful tenor of Henry’s voice in the kitchen.

“Mom? Pop?” he called out, his fast footsteps coming closer. “I need to ask you something. Do you mind if I—”

He cut himself off the moment him and Robert locked eyes.

Henry’s mother said, “What is it, hun?”

“Uhm...” Henry started chewing on his bottom lip. “I was hopin’ that I could go with Joe and Rose to Alva? For one of those dancin’ competitions?”

Robert reeled back, his face screwing up with confusion. Dancing? Why was Henry looking to enter a dancing competition ?

“Dancin’?” his father scoffed, coming in from the living room with his newly refolded newspaper, Robert’s little siblings trailing behind him.

“Yeah, I thought I could try to make some money,” he said, lowering his head a bit. “Grand prize is seven hundred dollars.” Robert’s mouth fell agape. Holy hell, that wasn’t some money , that was a whole lot of money. “Well, I would have to split that, but still—”

Henry’s father sneered, “Oh, that’s ridiculous.

What are the chances you’d even have of winnin’?

Dancin’ for hours and hours like that..

.” He paused and waved his free hand like he was shooing away a fly.

“Son, we have everything we need right now. Don’t waste your time with somethin’ that like.

Besides, we’re leavin’ for California in less than a month. ”

Robert’s stomach plummeted. Leaving for California?! Had Robert not only eaten one meager bite of that sandwich, he’d have probably thrown up onto the floor.

His eyes snapped to meet Henry’s, and Henry’s cheeks turned pink. How could Henry keep this from him?!

Robert’s wave of nausea began to recede, and his hurt left fury in its wake.

“Movin’?” Robert rasped out, the swell of upset nearly strangling the word in his throat.

Subtly, Henry shook his head, his eyes pleading with Robert not to press him right now.

With a huff, Robert relented, falling back against the sofa cushion, though he couldn’t wipe the scowl from his face.

His eyes found the floor, and his breathing changed, his inhales coming in fast and shallow as his eyes filled with tears. California! Holy hell.

Robert could feel Henry’s father’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his reaction.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Let Mr. Charles Sherwood see him and Henry for what they were.

The Sherwoods would be in California soon.

And Robert would be left here to rot in this hellhole.

He’d be left behind to suffocate from one of them black blizzards.

Or maybe even from the sweet nothings he wouldn’t never say to Henry now, the words that would sit heavy in his chest and press on his mutilated lungs until they stopped working.

Good God, Henry was leaving him behind in Oklahoma.

Robert’s face burned as he recalled his conversation with Clara. Me and Henry. Why had he let himself think such things?

Clara and Henry’s mother walked out of the room, urging the children to follow.

Once they had gone, Robert let himself finally look up to meet Henry’s eyes, which were wide and sad and pleading.

Robert could have sworn he saw regret in them, but that was probably wishful thinking.

Because Henry had to have known that his family was leaving.

But the son of a bitch had kept it a secret.

He had held hands with Robert in a manner that Robert thought had promised forever. But it hadn’t even promised honesty.

Henry’s father looked back and forth between the two of them, his head swiveling from Henry to Robert and back a few times, and then his eyes widened the slightest bit, his eyebrows rising up in tandem.

Robert wondered then whether the man was realizing that the reason Henry hadn’t wanted to marry Clara might not have been whatever excuse he’d provided to his folks, but something else instead.

“Henry,” his father said, his tone stern. “I need to speak with you.”

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck.

When a pang of sympathy struck Robert in the chest, he scowled and tore his eyes away, fixing them on the coffee table while Henry and his father stepped out into the hall.

Robert heard every word of the conversation that followed.

“What’s this thing with Robert? ”

“What thing with Robert?”

“Why are you and Robert looking at each other like that?”

“He’s my friend. I never told him that we were leavin’, that’s all.” There was a pause. “Or, uhm, that you and mom were leavin’, I mean.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I, uhm, I thought I might stay here. With Robert. You know, to help him and his family?”

Robert’s stomach fluttered. Henry wanted to stay in Guymon?

Quietly, Henry added, “Or maybe we could bring them with us?”

Robert’s breath caught, his stomach fluttering once more. Henry wanted to take him to California?

“Is that why you think you need that money?”

“Yes?”

Robert’s lips curled into a small smile, both because Henry speaking like that—with his voice hitching up—would never not be endearing and because, Jesus Christ, Henry wasn’t leaving him behind.

“Henry...” His father let out a long, exasperated sigh. “What is this? You’ve only been friends with Robert for a few weeks.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s... important to me. Or, uhm, I mean our friendship is important to me.”

Seconds ticked by, each of them more damning than the last.

“Jesus Christ,” his father finally said. “If it’s not one thing with you, it’s another.”

“Sorry,” Henry whispered. “I’m sorry.”

It was barely loud enough for Robert to hear, but still, Robert couldn’t miss the pain in Henry’s voice. Robert winced from the sudden sharp tug in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to hold his little wolf and to heal the hurt that Henry was feeling.

“Go ahead and enter that dance competition or whatever it is, ” his father said, his tone somehow both weary and biting at once. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Henry’s father came back and skulked through the living room, his mouth a hard line. Not once did he look in Robert’s direction. After a moment, Henry appeared in the doorway, his face long and sad and tired, his eyes fixed on his shoes. Robert hopped to his feet and rushed to him.

“I’m sorry, Robert,” Henry said softly. “I meant to tell you that my folks were movin’, but I wanted to find the money to bring you and yer family with us first. I thought maybe that would be easier for you if I paid my parents back for the funeral like I said I would.

And you wouldn’t really have to feel like you owed me, then.

Because it’s you and me, you know?” He paused to inhale a trembling breath, and it took everything Robert had not to wrap his arms around him.

“I thought we could put the extra from the winnings toward the train fare. It wouldn’t even be enough for everyone, but it would cover most of it.

And I was hopin’ we could find the rest together after.

” When Henry finally lifted his chin, Robert saw that his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

“Gosh, what a stupid plan that was. I know yer probably upset with me for keeping this from you. I’m never not messin’ up somehow. ”