Page 266 of Untouchable

"It has cilantro though," Harp points out. "You're probably gonna think it tastes soapy."

Harp scans the menu for something sweeter—something he knows Parker will like.

The little descriptions are almost useless unless you have an exhaustive knowledge of obscure alcohols, brands, and spices. Harp can see why Gil likes this place.

"You'd probably like this Pink Poodle thing they have. It'd be sweet and gingery with a little bit of peach," Harp says, speed-reading the description. "The Call of the Wild might be up your alley, too."

“Er, okay—” Parker looks up at the bartender. “I’ll have the, um, pink thingy.”

Gil frowns and looks like he's about to say something for a beat but he thinks better of it, ordering a seltzer water.

Harp asks for the same but Gil leans in and gives him a pointed look.

"Don’t want a Maker's or something? You have to make my DD offer worthwhile."

Harp caves easily, figuring that he can just nurse the drink until they're seated and he accepts the cocktail when passed across the bar to him. He takes a sip of his fourth drink and the whiskey isn't even all that appealing at this point—it's just something to do with his hands. The drinks seem to have all snuck up on him at once, and as Parker and Gil both lean in to talk in front of him, Harp feels oddly far from them, as if he's watching a movie play out.

"So, Parker," Gil says cheerfully, "tell me about your most interesting client other than Harp?"

* * *

“Well,Harp is definitely my favorite client,” Parker says, reaching over to squeeze Harp’s hand. “But, um, I used to work with a guy who used to be a professional football player? That was pretty neat. But most of my clients are just people who spend too much time at the computer and have back pain, you know?”

"But you've got to work for some real weirdos, right? Or just... interesting people," Gil says. "Everybody has a back, right?"

Parker forces a laugh, smiling blandly. “Well, um, I’ve had a surprising amount of people make, like, happy ending jokes while they’re literally on the table which is, you know, pretty weird? Because I’m, like, working on them and they’re undressed? It’s like they think they’re the first person to ever make that joke to me. But… I dunno, most of the people are just… normal people who are in pain, and it’s nice to help them. I worked with a client for a while who’d had a ton of spinal surgery, and I was part of her rehab team. She was really awesome to work with, and I learned a ton, you know?”

He’s nervous, and he knows he’s babbling, and he knows Gil probably couldn’t care less about what he’s saying. Parker is suddenly reminded vividly of being around his family, of a well-meaning aunt asking him a simple question and getting a long, rambling answer as she casts about the room wildly, looking for someone to come save her from Parker’s talkativeness.

* * *

Gil sighs and frowns.

Harp can almost watch the subtext of what's happening like subtitles on a screen.

Gil is trying his damnedest to make conversation and Parker is just answering, on the defensive, not sure what he's supposed to make of this version of Gil that is outgoing and friendly.

"Anyway," Gil says, sounding a little frustrated that Parker has given him nothing to work with, is sitting there like he's being interviewed.

Of course this isn’t what Harp is thinking—he’d never be so negative. But when he tries to see what Gil might see, he can’t help but understand why Gil might be getting impatient.

"What was it like growing up in Colorado?” Gil offers. “Did you get a bunch of snow days off from school every year?"

The bartender sets Parker’s drink down in front of him, and it’s pink and fizzy and looks delicious. Parker picks it up and takes a sip, turning brightly to Harp.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” he says. He takes another sip and winces. “And strong. Oh boy.”

He glances back to Gil.

“Er, not really? I mean, I grew up in Denver, you know? So, yeah, we got snow but it’s actually… sunny most of the time, because of the mountains, I think. I don’t really know why, though. But, um, I like Colorado a lot. But it’s also the only place I’ve ever lived.”

He takes another sip of his drink.

“Er, did you like Florida? I guess you probably didn’t get a lot of snow days.”

"No, we get hurricane days in Florida," Gil says, smirking. Harp is glad that his brother is at least willing to give Parker the benefit of the doubt enough not to explain that it doesn't snow in their part of Florida, but Harp can tell it's taking all of Gil's mental energy to be nice.

It's so odd to listen to Parker flounder like this. It's not hard to understand why all of his statements suddenly sound like questions and every third word seems to be a placeholder, but it makes Parker sound so much younger than he really is.

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