Page 3 of Hearing Hank

“Now that you’ve seen the ranch and you know where you’re sleeping and what the layout is, do you want to go into town and have lunch at my favorite place?” Paul asks.

“Absolutely,” I say. “I haven’t had anything today other than my latte.”

We hop back in my car and drive to a classic-looking diner right in the middle of town with a sign out front that reads Leeanne’s.

“I got to tell you, this feels a little bit like a time warp.” I tease Paul as we step inside and find a table. “Vinyl booths and everything!”

“And the best homemade pie in the world,” Paul says, as a genial older woman with a warm smile hands us some menus. Paul winks up at her and she winks right back.

She singsongs teasingly, “I have lemon merengue today Paul, I know it’s your favorite.”

“I better have lunch first Miss Leeanne, but you know I’ll want pie when I’m done.”

Leeanne brings us some water and walks away to give us a minute. I raise an eyebrow at Paul across the table.

“You seem pretty comfortable here. Has it changed that much since you were a kid?”

When Paul and I first met, he had all sorts of unkind things to say about Shafter Falls, and I remembered enough of them that I really wasn’t looking forward to coming here. So far though, it really didn’t seem like the same place that he described.

“I’ve changed that much,” Paul says thoughtfully. “There are assholes everywhere, of course, and Shafter Falls has their fair share, but my perception when I was a kid was pretty skewed by how awful my family was. And they hung around people just like them. Add a few bullies in high school and it kind of felt like the whole town was made up of intolerant bigots. I wasn’t back here very long before I discovered that that wasn’t actually the case.”

A waitress comes and takes our orders, and when she’s gone I change the subject to what I really want to ask about. “So. What’s the story with Hank?”

“Hank?” Paul seems surprised, then shrugs. “I don’t know, he lives on the ranch and works for Wyatt. He was like four years ahead of me and Sam in school. Seems like a nice guy.”

“You said he doesn’t talk,” I remind him. “What’s the deal with that?”

“I’ve never asked,” Paul replies. “I know he can talk. He talks to Wyatt and Sam, and once in a while he’ll talk to me if he has to, but he doesn't ever talk in town, or around people he doesn’t know well. Maybe an anxiety thing? Most of the time he’s out on the ranch, and it’s not a big deal out there.

“I don’t know any of his past really,” Paul continues. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any family around here.”

“But,” I tell him, “you haven’t told me the most important thing. Which way does he swing?”

“I actually,” Paul pauses and thinks for a moment, “I have no idea. It’s literally never come up, and I’ve never seen him with anyone. I could ask Sam. He might know.”

“Well,” I sigh. “I guess I’ll have to try and get it right from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

“Good luck with that,” Paul laughs. Then his face turns thoughtful. “You know, I heard people say in town that he’s slow, and some have even used the R word, but I really don’t think he is.”

I think back to the look in Hank’s eye as I struggled to get off of him in the yard. “No,” I agree. “I don’t think so either.”

Leeanne delivers our food and asks us if we need anything else. “And by the way dear,” she says to me, “I really love your earrings!”

“Thank you, Miss Leeanne! A good friend of mine made them for me, and I just love them.”

“I was going to ask you,” Paul says as she swings away to her next table, “you seem pretty glam today. What up with that?”

Paul knows that I’ve only really let that part of my personality out in public in the last few years. For a long time, I felt like I needed to keep private my love of jewelry, glitter, and soft and pretty fabrics. I got tired of it though, and about the time I hit thirty-five, I decided enough was enough. I still had to dress down for some work things, but I was a lot more likely to dress in whatever I wanted than I had been in the past. To be honest, that was part of the reason that I was out of a job.

“I’ve been making an effort to dress more like how I want to and less like other people want me to,” I told Paul. “Life is too short to worry about what other people think. I like being me, and I’m not interested in hiding it anymore.”

“I think it’s awesome,” Paul replied. “I was just wondering. You used to keep it toned down during the day, and I was worried that you’d feel like you needed to do that while you were here. I’m glad you didn’t.”

I’m glad I didn’t also, even though I’ve been keeping half my eye on a couple of evolutionary throwbacks in the corner pointing and laughing at me where Paul can’t see them. That type of person has never upset me. They’ll make fun of anyone for anything, just because they’re miserable. I’m glad I’m not them. I’m just making sure the pointing and snickering don’t suddenly cross the line into hate crime territory.

“Where do we go to rent supplies for the wedding?” I ask Paul, focusing on the reason I’m actually here. “Is there a place in town that has the tables and seating and decorations we need?”

Paul laughs. “There’s no place around here like that, but there might be in Fort Collins. If I wasn’t so busy trying to pass my last classes for this year I would be more help, but that was part of the reason I asked you to come. I was feeling overwhelmed with everything I’ve got going on. You know I don’t really care about the specifics, but I do want an elegant ceremony and a big, fun party. I just don’t have the time to pull it off by myself. Sam and I have our suits, we have the ranch, and Wyatt has done the paperwork to perform the ceremony. It’s just the party-throwing things we’re not good at. We’ve got a decent amount saved up for it, we just don’t really know what to do.”

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