well—gave Finn a droll look as she took the tag from him.
“Now go sit down and wait. I’ll have time to bring it out in a minute,” Finn said, handing back the change.
Adam growled and shook his head, and then took the last seat and sat down. While he was waiting, he pulled out his sketchbook and started working. Some of those more personal pictures of Finn needed fleshing out, but he figured that wasn’t safe to work on here—not when Finn could see him. Instead he pulled up a newer page, one he’d sketched the night before and inked in, featuring Darrin’s store in bold lines and bright primary and secondary colors. Working at every juncture in the store was a chibi version of one of the employees—a short, squat Anish, a less short and squat Ravi, a Carolyn with bejeweled glasses, a Joni with spiky hair and lots of piercings, and so on. All of the employees he’d met so far—the boy with the nose ring, the girl who liked pigtails and striped socks—all of them were there in their squat little cartoon versions, and Adam thought it was a good piece. Maybe he’d give it to Darrin for Christmas, and to say thank you for the job. He was looking forward to that. Ravi had taken the first one he’d drawn and pinned it up behind the register. This one was better, and Adam hated indebtedness.
“Ooh,” Finn said behind him. “Nice. That’ll look good in the store.”
Carefully he set down Adam’s order, plus a hot chocolate, and Adam looked up at him, knowing his smile was a little shy and unable to help it. “Sort of a thank-you to Darrin, you know?”
“That’s a good idea. Here, let me see!”
And before Adam could protest, Finn had taken the sketchbook from his hand.
“Uhm, yanno, that’s sort of like a diary, really, and—”
Oh no. Finn hadn’t looked directly behind his own pictures. No, even worse, he’d gone to the beginning of the sketchbook, where Adam was still working out things from Baghdad, and the things he’d drawn….
Finn’s bright, shining face sobered, went dark, as he looked at a picture of bodies in the desert, bones protruding, a child’s hand flopped backward in a parody of elegance, rags of clothing fluttering about the corpses like moths.
“Oh, Adam. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s, uhm, you know. Sort of private,” Adam said, more clearly this time. “I don’t want you to see—I mean some of that stuff is pretty ugly.” He went to take it from Finn, but to his surprise, Finn didn’t let go.
“That’s fine,” Finn said, trying to make eye contact while Adam was bent on looking at the plant in the corner by the trash can. Finn’s hand on his shoulder, warm and a little moist from just being washed, finally made him look up. “No, Adam—it’s fine that this is a diary. I’m sorry I intruded. But don’t think you have to protect me from this, okay? I’m not really Finn from the cartoon, you know? I’m a grown-up. If you served active duty, I know you had to see some awful stuff. Don’t hide it from me because you think I can’t take it.”
Adam nodded and reached for the book. “Uhm, thanks.” God, could this moment end?
“No. Adam, I mean it.” Finn put the book in Adam’s hands and squeezed his shoulder again. Then he broke Adam’s world by bending down and placing a warm, chaste kiss on Adam’s temple. “I’m a big boy. I can deal with this too.”
Adam couldn’t answer. He was busy gaping and trying to contain the shivers that racked his body in the aftermath of that careless kiss. He managed a nod and gratefully put the sketchbook in his pack.
“The sandwich looks, uh… really good.”
Finn shook his head and sighed. “I really just fucked with your head, didn’t I?”
Adam nodded and talked through a full mouth. “’S a great sandwich.”
“Yeah, Adam. You enjoy that.”
Adam looked fixedly at the plant. “I did,” he confessed. They both knew he wasn’t talking about the sandwich, but he didn’t have the words for
“Now go sit down and wait. I’ll have time to bring it out in a minute,” Finn said, handing back the change.
Adam growled and shook his head, and then took the last seat and sat down. While he was waiting, he pulled out his sketchbook and started working. Some of those more personal pictures of Finn needed fleshing out, but he figured that wasn’t safe to work on here—not when Finn could see him. Instead he pulled up a newer page, one he’d sketched the night before and inked in, featuring Darrin’s store in bold lines and bright primary and secondary colors. Working at every juncture in the store was a chibi version of one of the employees—a short, squat Anish, a less short and squat Ravi, a Carolyn with bejeweled glasses, a Joni with spiky hair and lots of piercings, and so on. All of the employees he’d met so far—the boy with the nose ring, the girl who liked pigtails and striped socks—all of them were there in their squat little cartoon versions, and Adam thought it was a good piece. Maybe he’d give it to Darrin for Christmas, and to say thank you for the job. He was looking forward to that. Ravi had taken the first one he’d drawn and pinned it up behind the register. This one was better, and Adam hated indebtedness.
“Ooh,” Finn said behind him. “Nice. That’ll look good in the store.”
Carefully he set down Adam’s order, plus a hot chocolate, and Adam looked up at him, knowing his smile was a little shy and unable to help it. “Sort of a thank-you to Darrin, you know?”
“That’s a good idea. Here, let me see!”
And before Adam could protest, Finn had taken the sketchbook from his hand.
“Uhm, yanno, that’s sort of like a diary, really, and—”
Oh no. Finn hadn’t looked directly behind his own pictures. No, even worse, he’d gone to the beginning of the sketchbook, where Adam was still working out things from Baghdad, and the things he’d drawn….
Finn’s bright, shining face sobered, went dark, as he looked at a picture of bodies in the desert, bones protruding, a child’s hand flopped backward in a parody of elegance, rags of clothing fluttering about the corpses like moths.
“Oh, Adam. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s, uhm, you know. Sort of private,” Adam said, more clearly this time. “I don’t want you to see—I mean some of that stuff is pretty ugly.” He went to take it from Finn, but to his surprise, Finn didn’t let go.
“That’s fine,” Finn said, trying to make eye contact while Adam was bent on looking at the plant in the corner by the trash can. Finn’s hand on his shoulder, warm and a little moist from just being washed, finally made him look up. “No, Adam—it’s fine that this is a diary. I’m sorry I intruded. But don’t think you have to protect me from this, okay? I’m not really Finn from the cartoon, you know? I’m a grown-up. If you served active duty, I know you had to see some awful stuff. Don’t hide it from me because you think I can’t take it.”
Adam nodded and reached for the book. “Uhm, thanks.” God, could this moment end?
“No. Adam, I mean it.” Finn put the book in Adam’s hands and squeezed his shoulder again. Then he broke Adam’s world by bending down and placing a warm, chaste kiss on Adam’s temple. “I’m a big boy. I can deal with this too.”
Adam couldn’t answer. He was busy gaping and trying to contain the shivers that racked his body in the aftermath of that careless kiss. He managed a nod and gratefully put the sketchbook in his pack.
“The sandwich looks, uh… really good.”
Finn shook his head and sighed. “I really just fucked with your head, didn’t I?”
Adam nodded and talked through a full mouth. “’S a great sandwich.”
“Yeah, Adam. You enjoy that.”
Adam looked fixedly at the plant. “I did,” he confessed. They both knew he wasn’t talking about the sandwich, but he didn’t have the words for
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