Chapter Seventeen

Hank

Now

“Will ya cut it out already?” Hank hissed through his teeth while eyeing Finn from the corner of his eye.

“What?” Colton threw back, wiping his hands against the front of his navy coveralls.

“You know what I mean, son. Stop givin’ him the stink eye.” It had been a hectic morning, with three cars involved in the accident on the 20. Luckily, no one had been hurt seriously, with only an elderly couple taken to Chadron for diagnostics, but the cars were a whole other story. Colton was working on the SUV. The bumper needed replacing, and the headlights had been broken when it had slammed into the rear of a truck.

“I wasn’t,” Colton mumbled, inspecting the hood of the car. “It’s just… what the hell is he doing?” He nodded in Finn’s direction. The kid stood in front of the high shelves, overspilling with tools, cans of oil, polish, and old rags that should’ve been tossed ages ago. He’d taken it upon himself to ‘ organize the shop a little, if it’s okay with you, Hank.’ “He’ll end up making a mess of things and then we won’t be able to find shit,” he continued, an annoyed expression on his face.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Just look at him.” Hank tipped his chin at Finn, who was meticulously laying out screwdrivers according to size on the bench next to him. Holding one up in front of him, he inspected the green handle more closely in the light, before turning towards Hank, an indecisive curl around his lips.

“Hank, you wanna keep this? The handle’s broken, but maybe I can tape it if you wanna keep it.” His brown eyes gazed expectantly at Hank behind the black-framed glasses, making him look like a city college kid on a sabbatical in the real America. Those goddamn glasses. The moment Finn had put them on for the first time, Hank had noticed something stir inside him he’d thought he would never feel again. Something he’d assumed had been gone for good, replaced by a lingering numbness. Desire . He recognized it for what it was, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about the realization.

On one hand, it was somewhat comforting to know that he wasn’t completely dead yet. That there was still a little spark of fire inside his old carcass. On the other hand—and this was the feeling that had won in the end—it felt like a betrayal to Eugene. Just as he’d been the beginning of everything, Hank had always thought that Eugene would be the end of everything, too. And up until a week and a half ago, he had been, Hank barely being able to jerk off without tears springing to his eyes. And then that stray, that kid, because he was a kid, had put on those goddamn glasses, speaking his ever-present grateful thank you, Hank.

“You decide,” he managed to say, his tongue not working properly. A broad smile spread across Finn’s face, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I’ll fix it.” He nodded, before turning back towards the bench.

“Jesus Christ,” Colton groaned next to him, bending over a busted headlight.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he sighed. “It’s just… we usually just toss ‘em. We’ve got a whole box in storage, you know. All brand new.”

“Would you rather have him hovering around here, then?” Hank felt annoyance building. “Looking over your shoulder, asking you a million questions?” He knew where Colton was coming from, but whenever Finn smiled, he would get this warm feeling inside his chest that was becoming increasingly addictive. Colton huffed.

“Hand me the wrench, will ya?” Reaching behind him, Hank pulled the wrench from the toolbox and handed it to his nephew. Then he went to the other end of the shop where the truck was waiting, a huge dent in the rear along with busted taillights. Finn smiled as he walked past him, holding up the roll of tape like it was some magical tool. Shit.

Because it wasn’t just the glasses, was it now? No, it was like that mundane accessory had just pushed at something. Like some button or some dam breaking inside Hank, creating this weird domino effect. Now, he suddenly noticed all these small things about Finn that sent a kick to his groin at random hours of the day. Like this morning when Finn had blown at his steaming cup of coffee, and Hank had found himself almost hypnotized by the fullness of his upper lip. Wondering if it was just as plump as it looked. Or how his eyes would change color throughout the day, from a muddy brown to deep golden honey when the sparse winter light hit them just right. Or the outline of those small pale scars that Hank’s fingers itched to trace, as if by touching them, they would speak to him, telling him of their origin. Telling him about Finn’s past. Or the small cluster of freckles above Finn’s Cupid’s bow that he wanted to count so badly. As if they held some mathematical code revealing the secret of the universe. Or…

A loud ringing sound tore through the shop, and it took Hank a few seconds to place it.

“You want me to get it?” Colton hollered from underneath the hood of the SUV.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll get it. It’s probably Mike, anyway, calling for an update.” The owners were probably nagging him for details to pass on to the insurance company by now. Jogging toward the small office, he wiped his hands on his coveralls. The phone hung on the wall just inside the office and he managed to answer it on the fourth ring.

“This is Hank,” he sighed, as he was met with a chorus of woofs and meows from the other end intermingling with a frantic tapping sound.

“Hank?” Henry’s light, slightly breathy voice swept towards him, an edge of agitation in it.

“Yeah? What’s up, kid?”

“Will you… Brutus, will you knock it off? Leave Lulu alone, for crying out loud. Sorry… It’s chaos around here.” It sounded like something crashed to the floor in the background, an angry high-pitched meow followed by a loud bark. “Brutus, you brute. Stop it or I’m gonna…”

“Did you want somethin’?” Hank sighed, rubbing at his brows.

“Yeah, sorry, Hank. Will you tell Colton that I have to push our lunch back half an hour? It’s Armageddon down here,” he chuckled, panicky.

“Sure… are you okay, kid? You need a hand or… somethin’?”

“Nah, it’s okay. Just every pet in Hayley’s deciding to pay me a visit today. Must be the full moon or something,” he laughed.

“What’s up?” A mellow voice sounded next to him, a warm breath hitting his left chin. He recognized the scent that had become so familiar to him over the past week in an instant. Turning toward Finn, Hank shrugged.

“It’s just young Henry. Calling to postpone lunch. Apparently, there’s chaos down at the clinic.” As if to stress Hank’s words, a string of expletives and eager barks spilled through the phone.

“Oh, okay.” Finn nodded, nibbling at his bottom lip. Brushing a hand through his hair, he nodded again, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “Tell him I’ll be there in five.”

“What now?” Hank wasn’t exactly sure that he’d heard Finn correctly, because it sounded like he was going down to the clinic.

“Can I borrow your truck, Hank?”

“Uhm, yeah, sure…” Hank patted his side pockets. “What do you mean, exactly? You’re headin’ down there?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded, reaching for the keys that Hank was dangling in front of him. “I’ll go give him a hand. I fixed the screwdriver already. Good as new.” Strange how Finn’s lips were moving, but Hank had trouble recognizing the words and the sudden authority surrounding the man standing in front of him. Suddenly, his posture was all different, his shoulders straight, his eyes focused.

“Thanks,” he smiled at Hank, before zipping up his coat and slinging the scarf around his neck. “I’ll just meet you at the diner later, okay, Hank?”

“But…” In a flash, Finn turned on his heel and jogged towards the garage doors.

“Hank, what’s going on?” Henry spoke from the other end.

“Uhm, I’m not quite sure, but Finn’s comin’ to help ya.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Henry rushed out like it made perfectly good sense. “See you down at the diner, then.” Hank was left with the phone in his hand, his mouth slightly agape as he watched Finn press the button of the automatic doors.

“But Finn…” he yelled over the sliding, rattling sound. Turning around, Finn smiled at him before he slipped out the door. Turning around mid-run towards the truck, he waved at Hank, his glasses slightly askew.

“It’s okay, Hank,” he called out. “I’m a nurse.” Then he turned around, threw open the car door, and jumped in. The truck sprung to life, Finn still waving at him like some mad small-town Clark Kent, and then, in a flash, he was gone, the crushing sound of gravel all that was left. I’m a nurse. I’m a nurse. What the hell?

“What was that about?” Colton placed a hand on his right shoulder, staring after the truck that had left deep tire tracks in the snow.

“I’m not exactly sure.”

“Where’s he goin’?”

“He… uhm… he was gonna go give Henry a hand at the clinic,” Hank mumbled, the truck disappearing behind the tree line at the end of the snow-covered dirt road.

“Oh, okay. Everythin’ okay?” Colton squinted.

“Yeah, I think so,” Hank nodded, Finn’s departing salute going on repeat in his head. I’m a nurse. I’m a nurse. Okay, then.