The next day, Lorri emailed Tinsley three design ideas and a wholesale contact for the shirts, hoping her price break might help. She printed out her favorite version and hung it on the tack strip next to the multiple sketches of the many faces of Mister in her studio.
Studio.
That sounded so official. Was it truly never too late to pursue a dream?
She went back downstairs and sat at her desk to check on her work projects and make sure they were all still on time. So much of her job these days didn’t even require artistic talent. They had databases loaded with stock images, cutting design time into a smidgen of what it used to be. There were times when the days dragged on. Especially when she got stuck on long conference calls where she really was supposed to do nothing but listen.
She found new joy in those long, torturous calls by sketching while listening in. Letting her mind’s eye go wild as she half paid attention, waiting for something pertinent to her part of the marketing package. At the end of the week, she had several sketches that she was actually proud of, just the way they were.
Inspired to spend more time creating, she ordered art supplies and spent her extra time rearranging and readying the space for their delivery.
A week later her studio was fully stocked. Canvas, mat board, paints, and all the little extras that a real artist would have already had on hand.
She also had the final approval from Tinsley on the artwork for the Animal Rescue Dog Walk shirts. The design was some of her best work. She’d started with a realistic painting, one with Mister as the subject with playful butterflies and bees.
This morning she awoke with an idea that had her excited. She left the original artwork unscathed, scanning it and then digitally coloring the image. It turned out bright and eye-catching and very pop-art-ish. The event lettering stood out against the colorful image in a fun way. She happily worked on the changes for a few hours, then emailed Tinsley to let her know it was done so she could take it over to her screen printer.
If it’s a success, I’ll offer to do an original shirt design for the fundraiser each year. Maybe she’d end up being their local artist of choice. Artist. That sounded so good. She didn’t mind doing it for free for such a good cause. She’d drop the idea to Tinsley when she saw her.
What could possibly make this day any better?
The doorbell rang. Mister bounced to his feet letting out two big woofs on his way to the front door.
Tinsley must be as excited as I am.
Lorri carried the original artwork and the thumb drive with the digital files to the door with her. Swinging the door open with a knowing hello, she was surprised to not see Tinsley standing there.
“Ryder?” This is the one thing that could make today even better. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Yeah?” He stood there holding the handles of a large brown sack. “Hope it’s okay I just dropped by.”
“Definitely. Please come in.”
He looked relieved. “What do you have there?”
She was wondering the same about what he was carrying. Lorri turned the drawing toward him. “I thought you were Tinsley coming to pick up the graphic I created for the Animal Rescue Dog Walk. Have you heard about it?”
“I have. Let me see.” He took the drawing, his face brightening. “You’re good.” He looked at her square on. “Really good.”
“I had a good model.”
“He is a good-looking dog.” His mouth twisted into a goofy grin. “Maybe I could be your model one day. Can you make me look that good?” He struck a pose, then laughed it off.
Little did he know that he’d already landed in several of her sketches, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“They wanted something they could use for T-shirts for one of the teams. They’re going to sell them early to build interest in the event, and then sell them for keepsakes after. Maybe give some away as raffle prizes.”
“These will sell like crazy. I’ll buy one.”
“Thank you.” She could picture his wide shoulders filling out the shirt.
“They’re holding that event over at the property behind The Wedding Ranch,” Ryder said.
“I didn’t know that. You know all about this event then.”
“Sure. The town has always done a silent auction to raise money for the animal rescue in the past, but it’s dwindled to barely breaking even so they’re trying something new. People are going to love those T-shirts. I knew you were a graphic artist, but I guess I hadn’t really thought about you painting and doing stuff like this. I had no idea we had such a great artist in our midst.”
“I’m not an artist. I mean, I used to dream of being a real artist, but a girl has to pay the bills. I was really excited Tinsley asked me to do it. Kind of made me feel more like part of the town.”
“You’re a good fit around here. Not like most city folk who decide to move out to the country.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment. Why are we standing here at the door? Come on in.” She led the way inside.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“No. Of course not. Friends are always welcome.” She met his smile. “Always.”
He followed her into the living room and sat on the couch, placing the bag next to his feet. “You have a really beautiful home here. This is the first time I’ve really had a chance to see inside. It’s nice.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not what I’d pictured in my mind.”
“Really? How so?”
He looked hesitant to say. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s really comfortable. I like how you brought the farmhouse look on the outside, inside.”
She saw him look approvingly at the sliding barn doors that could be closed to cover the opening that led to the stairs to her loft. My studio.
“Those barn rails are the real deal,” he said. “Where’d you find these?”
“Those. Yeah. They weren’t easy to find. I found the vintage rails and cast iron wheels on eBay. They were reclaimed from a train station in a small town down in Georgia. They’re stamped ‘1903.’ They cost more to ship than what I paid for them because they were so heavy, but I love how they look.” She’d stained the barn doors herself, taking the extra time to distress them, so that even though they had a high-gloss furniture finish they didn’t look brand new.
He got up and walked over to them, checking them out closely. “Nice work.”
“The guy I hired to do the installation thought I was flat-out nuts to hang these.”
“He’s wrong.” He looked around, nodding with approval. “Like the desk too.”
“I found that piece the year I graduated from college. I fell in love with it. It was so far out of my budget, but I was determined to get it. Finally, I talked the owner of the store into letting me work off part of the price. He held that desk, displayed in the window with a sold card on it, for eight months for me.”
“That’s a great story. He believed in you.”
“I worked my butt off to earn that desk. It was a sweet reward. It’s served me well.”
“Not too many folks could fit a desk that size in a home office.”
“Which is why it’s in my living room.”
He glanced at the papers on her desk and the drawings posted on the wooden presentation board on the left-hand side.
“You do beautiful work.”
“Thank you.”
He walked back over and sat down. “I had a really good time at the wedding reception.”
“I did too.”
“Thank you for not running me off after I accused you of being a wedding crasher and tried to kick you off the property.”
A blush rose from her chest to her ears. “I thought you were kidding at first, but how would you have known any differently? We’re still getting to know one another. It’s fine.”
“But,” he held up his finger, “I won’t make the mistake of jumping to conclusions again.”
“I know. You already said that, and I know you’re a man of your word.”
“You are a very unique woman, my friend Lorri.” He scooted the bag closer to her with the toe of his boot. “I brought you something.”
A hint of smoke lingered. He pulled out a big chunk of something.
“What is that?”
Ryder cocked his head. “Whoops. It’s a femur. This isn’t for you. It’s for you, Mister. Come here, boy.”
Mister’s ears perked. He slowly got up and tiptoed toward Ryder. His nose wiggled and bobbed, dewlaps huffing the whole way.
“That is the biggest bone I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Probably better outside though.”
“Definitely. I think he’s going to appreciate it.” But Mister was taking his time approaching the foreign object. “Eventually.”
“He’s impossibly slow sometimes.” They laughed as he cautiously opened his mouth and then tugged the bone from Ryder’s hand and started across the room.
Lorri got up from the couch and opened the back door. “Let’s take that out back.” Mister moved like a walker horse, rising each foot high with the pride of a show pony. “I believe you’ve made a forever friend.”
When she turned back around, Ryder was standing with an armful of yellow roses wrapped in shimmery silver paper.
“I hope so.” He extended them toward her.
She walked toward him filled with unexpected emotion. She’d received flowers lots of times over the years, but never like this.
“What are these for?”
“For you, my friend Lorri. You are appreciated, and special, and I’m really grateful we met.”
She steadied herself, trying to keep her emotions in check. The divorce had been so ugly, and this … this was so nice and unexpected.
“Thank you, Ryder.” She pressed her nose into the bouquet. “They smell so good. Yellow for friendship. They’re perfect.”
“I haven’t stepped out of my little family circle for a long time. Lorri, I value this friendship. The time we’ve spent together here recently. It’s been good, and I haven’t danced like that in years.”
“You could’ve fooled me. You were great, and it was magical under the tent, with all the twinkle lights.” Swept away. By him. By the whole night. She saw it in the reflection of his eyes too. Trying to maintain balance she quickly added, “Your niece and nephew have created something very special. I see why you’re so proud of them.”
“Very. One day they’ll carry this farm on to the next generation. It’ll change. It won’t be like I had it all worked out in my head, but then I suppose I need to just focus on what I can do here and now and leave the future to them.”
“It’s hard to not let our visions expand further than our own lifespan. I know what you mean, but the here and now … that’s what matters.”
He took her hand in his, sweeping his thumb across the top. “With you around, I’m beginning to believe that.”
Is he feeling the same pull that I am? “It’s not easy to let life happen around us. It leaves us feeling out of control. It’s uncomfortable.” She sucked in a breath, then stepped back taking the flowers into the kitchen to fill a vase with water. She came back into the living room and arranged the flowers as they talked.
“But that’s the thing. I believe and know we’re not in control,” Ryder said. “There’s one big plan for all of our lives—we’re just custodians of our time here, and yet I fight it every single day. I have no idea why.”
She sat down on the couch catty-corner from him in the chair. “I’ve been working on that myself. Accepting what life is handing me and trying to see the new opportunities out of the obstacles. It’s not easy. When I get irritated, I try to look at the situation from another perspective, but when it’s personal … that’s when it’s really hard.”
“Easy to say, hard to live. Mostly I leave that to my prayers when I ride the property each morning.”
“That’s something else I could use a refresher on.” It had been a long time since she’d counted on prayer. Craig had never been much of a churchgoer to begin with, but once they got married it had completely faded away.
“I think it’s harder where family is concerned, because I want to protect everyone. My sister, Reece, and Ross, they’re my whole life. Have been since I lost Valerie and Ronnie Dwayne. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Yes. A brother.” What else could she say about him? She didn’t mean to sound uncaring. There’d been a time when she loved Jeff so much it killed her to see him begin to self-implode.
“Does he live in Raleigh?”
“He’s buried there.” She dropped her chin. “He struggled for a long time.”
“I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“It’s complicated. He was such a good kid. Way smarter than I was. People thought we were twins. We were so close when we were young.”
“Diane and I have always been close.”
“It was different for us. Somewhere along the way, it was early—like before junior high, he got in with the wrong people. I don’t really know how it all shifted, but he started drinking and getting into trouble. He never found his way. He didn’t even finish school. He’d lie, cheat, and steal without a blink, living on a constant high.” She pressed her hands together. “I don’t know how we ended up so different. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lay that all on you.”
“You were close once.”
“Inseparable, but when he got to the point that he stole from my parents, and so many lies. I just … it was like I’d lost my brother. I’ve tried to understand it, but I can’t. When I got the phone call that he’d died, I didn’t even cry. I’d written him off years before that.”
“You lost him twice.”
“Yeah. I guess I did. In my heart, he was still that sweet boy that let me play trucks with him in the sand pit, and one time he even dressed up in a tutu to have tea with me and my stuffed animals. He was a good big brother.” She lowered her gaze. “Until he wasn’t. So rather than deal with the awful truth, I shut him out and held on to the good parts.”
Ryder chuckled at that. “Got to cling to the happy memories. I’d have killed Diane if she tried to make me wear a tutu.”
“He didn’t like it much. I tried for so long to help him,” she admitted. “We had the exact same upbringing and yet I had this intense drive to succeed and he was just in neutral. He had no faith that he was good enough. No faith at all. Wouldn’t go to church. Not even with the family on Christmas. The drugs were all he lived for. He never had a real relationship that I know of.”
“That’s hard to imagine, isn’t it?”
“It is. He had a very sad life. A constant struggle, and it was hard on all of us. I wonder, if we had quit focusing on the substance abuse and gotten him psychiatric help, if he may have had a chance. I think there was more at play than the addiction.”
“Root cause,” Ryder said. “You can’t fix a problem by addressing the symptoms. Never works.”
“Right. So why didn’t we see that soon enough?”
“It’s hard to dig down to the root cause. It’s in the rotten underbelly of everything we see. It takes patience and in this microwavin’, drive-thru, instant gratification age, it’s nearly impossible to see things for what they are. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Easy to say for someone else, isn’t it?”
“Yes. We both need to live in the future, and put the past behind us.” His words were soft, understanding.
“I’ve been trying.”
“Haven’t ever met anyone quite like you before.”
“Is that good?” She eyed him playfully, trying to lighten up the moment. Why had she told him all that?
“Yes. It’s very good, my friend Lorri. Troubling at the same time. I’m a little out of my element here. I haven’t made a new friend in a long, long time.”
She pushed her hair back from her face. “All my baggage hasn’t scared you away, has it? Still friends?”
He stretched his hand out. “You will forever be considered my friend Lorri.”
My friend Lorri. Those words tickled her heart. “I really like it when you say that.”
“Then I’ll say it more often.”