Page 21 of Enzo
He picked up his mug and stared into the cocoa as if it held answers to questions he hadn’t asked yet.
“You did all that today?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, wanting to get him to talk.
He nodded, still not meeting my eyes.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him for a moment. “I’m amazed at how much you pulled together. How do you remember it all?”
He winced. Not big, not dramatic, more of a quiet flinch, like I’d brushed against an old bruise. His fingers tightened around the mug, and his whole body seemed to go still. “I just do.”
“Well, my memory is shit—like, have you ever seenFinding Nemo?”
The question caught him off guard and he blinked. “Uh… yeah. The fish movie?”
“Cassidy loves that movie. I’ve watched it with her. Oh wait—Cassidy’s Logan’s daughter? You haven’t met her yet, but she’s cool. Fierce like her dad.”
“I know who she is,” Robbie whispered. “I heard Logan talking to Tudor. She calls him Grampy T, right? Tudor I mean.”
“She does,” I said. “They’re not related by blood, but Redcars is family.”
He nodded, slow and thoughtful. “Why’d you ask about Nemo?”
“Oh, right.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “There’s this fish in it—Dory. She doesn’t have a good memory. And some days I feel like her.”
Robbie glanced up at me, puzzled.
I gave him a sheepish smile. “Last week I forgot the difference between a fuel pressure sensor and a crankshaft position sensor and stared at the damn engine for five minutes as if it was going to explain itself.”
That got the barest twitch of a smile from him.
I leaned in a little. “But you? You put that all together, and it was like this genius moment.”
His shoulders tensed again, but he didn’t look away. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to be… I want to be Dory.”
To forget whatever happened to him? I’d want to forget every pain inflicted on me like he’d had done to him. “Hey,” I said. “You’re safe here. I was just impressed and… proud of you, okay?”
He swallowed hard, nodded, and after a moment, whispered, “Thanks.” Robbie hesitated, then he glanced up, wide-eyed and serious. “Do you think Logan could pay me? For some of the work? If I promise not to fuck it up and keep on top of it?”
I blinked. “If you need money, there’s an emergency fund. It’s not—” I broke off at the expression on his face. “It’s not dependent on working.”
His whole body stiffened. “I work,” he said. Not loud. Not aggressive. Just… gutted. Like I’d said something cruel.
“I know,” I said quickly. “Okay. Okay.”
“I just…” He stared down at his hands. “I want to buy some stuff. But I don’t know how much money I need. It’s been a long time since… none of it feels real…” he stared into the middle distance for a moment, lost in thought, and I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked it. “I don’t have money… I mean I know where to get some but…” he was mumbling.
“What do you need? We’ll work it out.”
He stared at the screen. Then at his hands. They were pale, still thin but healing and his wrists were still reddened with worn skin, but his delicate fingers weren’t shaking now.
He swallowed. “It’s private,” he said.
I slid the phone across the table, making sure it was turned so he could see the screen opened at a big box store website. “Go for it. I won’t look.”
He didn’t touch it immediately, only staring down as if it might burn him. His fingers hovered, then curled in. Finally, he closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and stared at me with an expression of hope.
“Can you do it?” he asked. “I didn’t have a phone. They never let me have a phone. I mean, I know what one is, and I can use the ones like in the office, but it’s all moved on and…”
“Sure,” I said. “What do you want?”
