Page 10 of Untouchable

And now he’s upset.

Harp can't remember the last time he was worried he'd upset someone other than Gil.

"Hey, before, um—" Harp says. God, this part is always so awkward.

Harp fumbles with his wallet as he crossed the bedroom and draws out the first bill he touches.

"Thanks for coming out," Harp says mechanically as he presses the bill into Parker's hand. The touch turns into a handshake, which is even weirder—Harp standing in his bedroom in nothing but a towel, greasing the palm of a nervous kid half his age.

* * *

As Harp shovesmoney into his hand, Parker can’t help glancing down to see a $50 bill now crumpled in his fist.

What?Parker thinks. A $50 tip for the first 5 minutes of a massage that the client had clearly hated?

“I—I—Thank you,” Parker says automatically. He feels humiliated, somehow, as though the client is literally paying to get Parker out the door.

Well, Parker won’t inflict any more damage than he already has. Shamed, he quickly picks up his bag, lugging the table along with him, and goes down the stairs. He’d meant to say something, to apologize once more, to try and make peace somehow, but once he’s down the stairs, all he can think about is getting away from this place.

The little wiener dog—Bo, he remembers—is trotting along beside him, nearly tripping him, and though he’d like to say goodbye, it’s all Parker can do to keep himself from racing back to his car and speeding down the mountain.

But he’s not crying, so at least there’s that.

* * *

Harp wantsto give him advice on the best roads to get back to town, or to warn him about the route that's closed, or to just say something dumb about the weather. Small talk—that's what people use to make each other feel better, right?

But when he gets to the bottom of the stairs and Parker is at the door, all that comes out of his mouth is, "Don't let the dogs out."

Parker gives a curt nod but doesn't look back at him as he exits, careful to keep Bo from stepping out beside him.

"Sorry buddy," Parker says gently to the dog, as if embarrassed at the rudeness of shutting the door in his face.

Then he's gone, and the house is empty again.

No, not empty,Harp tells himself.

Back to normal.

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