Page 77 of Soft Flannel Hank

Now, she was locked away from him working with Magda, and all Hank wanted to do was break down the door and pull her against his chest, to take her to a dark closet and rut her against the wall until she sobbed his name the way she had in the kitchen, until they both came so that he could finally stop feeling like his skin was two sizes too small.

Hank sat on the couch watching some late-night show without really paying attention. Dick Van Dyke turned a few circles before laying down on his memory foam bed in front of the fireplace. After another hour, Magda came out of the office and joined him on the couch.

“How is she?” Hank asked, sitting up taller.

“Worried about you,” Magda said quietly.

“She shouldn’t be.”

“I told her that.”

Hank grunted.

“She’s gonna ask you about Marnie.”

“Fuck,” Hank swore.

“It was only a matter of time.”

He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“What are you going to tell her?”

Hank sighed, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. “The truth, I guess. As pathetic as it’s gonna make me sound.”

Magda took his hand in hers. “Dovey, you are not pathetic, and you never have been. When you love, you do it with your whole heart. That’s not pathetic. That’s brave.”

He shook his head, unable to accept that.

“She’ll probably ask on the drive. Didn’t want you to be blindsided by it.”

Hank nodded. Just then, the door opened, and Hank rose to his feet as Esther came down the hall and into the living room.

“Well,” Magda said, slapping her thighs and standing, “I need to turn in. Y’all are welcome to take my bed if you want.”

“No,” Esther and Hank both said at the same time.

Magda smirked, shaking her head. “Okay, then. One of you can take the air mat in the office, and the other can take the couch. I’ll help you make them up.”

“I know where everything is, Magda,” Hank said softly. “I’ll do it.”

She nodded and stuck her cheek out, which he bent to kiss. She squeezed Esther’s arm as she passed, and then disappeared into her bedroom, leaving Hank and Esther alone in the living room.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said quickly.

Esther sized it up. “Will you fit?”

“I’ll be more comfortable on the couch than trying to sleep on a pool raft.” He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “Sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“You need to sleep, too. We can take turns watching for—”

“Sleep,” he commanded softly.

Esther leaned into his hand. He took a half step closer and pulled her against his chest.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured against the top of her head.

She turned her face into his chest and, with her voice muffled against the T-shirt, asked, “Can I take care of you too?”