Page 49 of Soft Flannel Hank

He stammered through it and looked absolutely despondent by the end. He covered the shiny blue package with his hand. Esther felt that lurch in her chest that was becoming entirely too familiar by now as Hank offered her glimpses of his soft, animal underbelly.

She kept her face carefully bright. “Do you have any more? That’s fine with me.”

Without a word, Hank stood and opened a narrow door that concealed a small pantry.

“I’ve got chocolate mint or cookies and cream.”

“Cookies and cream, please,” she said.

He went to the table and handed her the blue bar he’d been holding, offering it to her.

Oh no. She hadn’t meant for that to happen.

“I don’t want to take your last one. I’ll eat the mint chocolate one.”

“You don’t want that one. It tastes like toothpaste.”

“Yum,” Esther said, with a sudden, single laugh before waving her hands. “I can’t take that one from you, Hank. I’ll eat the other. I like toothpaste.”

He cocked his head to the side, studying her.

“Esther?” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice deep and soft.

“Yeah?” she replied in a breathy voice that she didn’t recognize at all.

“Take the bar.” He gently took her hand and pressed the blue rectangle into it before taking a green foil wrapped bar out of the box.

He went back to his seat, the wood creaking gently as he relaxed into it and opened his breakfast. Esther looked down at the metallic package in her hand.Againthe lurch.It’s a protein bar, honey. Calm your tits.

She took a deep breath and sat down across from him, fumbling with the wrapper for a moment before it tore cleanly but so quickly that she almost dropped it. He looked at her through his eyelashes, obviously trying to be subtle. But in the few days since meeting him, Esther could say with absolute certainty that Hank wasn’t capable of subtlety.

She took a bite. It tasted like an approximation of cookies and cream. Like if you described an Oreo to someone who’d never had one and then asked them to recreate it. But it was food, and that’s what she needed right now. Hank nodded as if satisfied and took a bite of his own bar.

“Not much of a breakfast person?” she asked around a mouthful.

“I like breakfast,” he said quietly, his eyes on his hands, the wrapper peeled halfway down his bar. “I just haven’t made it in a while.”

“Why not?” she asked, still chewing that first bite. The chewing didn’t improve it, neither the taste nor the texture.

His brow furrowed, the eyebrows pressing close together. He looked deep in thought, and Esther could feel him writing and rewriting his answer to that question in his head. Clearly it wasn’t the simple question she’d thought.

Esther didn’t want to push him. She also didn’t want to offend him, which is why she stood and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot. There is absolutely no way she’d be able to swallow a second bite of that bar dry without some hot, liquid assistance. She remembered the little crock of sugar and poured milk from the refrigerator into her mug until it was the right color.

Just as she turned back to the sit again, the counter not far from the table, Hank spoke.

“I’ve had a rough few months. I’ve been… Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Depressed?” Esther offered.

He lifted his head to lock eyes with her. “Among other things.”

She nodded as she sat, taking another bite and waiting.

“I was a cop for more than twenty years. I left the force about six months ago.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be a part of bad politics justifying bad policing. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”