Callie gave King a peck on the cheek and scuttled away, and Noah watched her go.
“Noah?”
Noah’s blue eyes jerked back to King’s face. “King?”
“You ready to get to painting, man?”
“Yes. I have my own workspace, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re lucky.”
“Want to see?”
“I do. Show me.”
They walked in to the massive open space area, and King was relieved when every single staff member nodded at Noah and greeted him by name. Noah didn’t really respond – he had reverted to his old habit of clenching his hands over and over and avoiding eye contact – and King felt worry move in his chest. He hadn’t seen Noah this unnerved in a while, and he hoped that the younger man would be OK.
Noah led him over to the far corner, next to a massive arched window. King watched as Noah took off his backpack and set it on a stool.
“My workspace.” Noah sounded proud and goddamn, he should be. Just by standing there, he’d blown most every expectation that every health care professional had ever laid down on him. Sarah and her mother Annie had worked their asses off for years to help Noah be more flexible with changes in routine, and now the result was standing in front of King.
Noah was in a brand new place, surrounded by brand new people – and Sarah was nowhere in sight. Noah had insisted on doing this himself and although his twin sister had tied herself up in knots about it, she’d agreed in the end. This whole thing was, after all, about Noah’s increasing independence, and he had to start sometime.
King thought about what Annie had said this morning, when King had picked Noah up at his house. Noah had been packing his backpack with his beloved baseball cards, Sudoku puzzles, pencils and juicebox, and Annie had stood there wringing her hands.
She had turned to King. “It’s like the first day of school.”
He’d grinned a bit. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“No, really. Noah’s never gone to regular school and back when my husband was around and we had money, we had home help and care and babysitters. Then Sarah took over, as you know, and it’s been Sarah here with him ever since. We had Helen for two days a week, and now we have Garrett who comes every day. But Noah leaving the house, going to a place and staying there for the whole day? That’s never happened, King. Not until today.”
He’d paused. “That’s true, huh?”
Annie had brushed away the tears in her eyes. “First day of school at the age of twenty-five, I swear. I’m scared to death for him.”
“Hey, now,” King had said gently. “He’s going to love it, Annie, and it’ll be good for all of you. You'll be nervous and worried until he comes home this afternoon, then you’ll see how great it all was.”
“Yeah.” She had smiled at him, and a rare flash of beauty had moved over that tired, strained face. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Now, King looked around at the other artists already at work. “So. You want to get started, man?”
“Yes.”
“Did you bring your music?”
“Yes.” Noah unzipped his backpack and produced a cheap CD Walkman. It was battered and beaten up but Noah handled it like it was the most beautiful thing on the planet. King watched as he loaded up a disc, put on the headphones, and turned to stare at the blank canvas.
And just like that, Noah was gone in to his head, in to his own little world. King smiled as Noah grabbed a paintbrush and dabbled it in a bit of water, dipped it in bright yellow paint. He blinked at the white landscape stretched out in front of him, and King would have paid a boatload of money to know what Noah was seeing on it.
He backed up quietly, wondering if Noah would freak out at him leaving. But Noah gave him a quick glance, a small wave, then turned his attention back to the easel. As King watched, Noah made a decisive brush stroke, then another; that was when King relaxed completely.
“Matt?”
He spun at that soft voice, and almost sighed at