Had to run an errand. Robyn’s in back and can let you in. Be back soon, promise. Jen.
Grace carried her cello to the front corner of the house. A hothouse ran the length of the south side, ending in an arched doorway with a purple door topped by glass panes. It opened to a yard with tidy raised-bed garden boxes and fruit trees. She followed the cement path that curved around to the back door. A grating racket came from somewhere nearby and she puzzled at the two sets of porch stairs, one to her left and one directly in front of her. She chose the set of stairs on the left, figuring they led to the kitchen, thankful for the quiet of the small house she rented.
Her rap at the door produced no results, so she leaned her cello against the porch railing and descended the stairs. She briefly entertained the idea of knocking on the second door but noticed a path in the grass that led in the direction of all the noise. Tentatively, she followed it, pausing at what she thought would be the property line. There she found an answer to the horrible noise. Inside a garage with doors open wide was Robyn pressing a metal tool to a spinning hunk of wood. A thin line of the wood curled in long ringlets, crawling up Robyn’s left arm before falling to the pile on the ground.
Grace stood mesmerized by the slow arc Robyn made as she whittled the outer edge to a curve. Soon she clicked off the machine and pushed her protective glasses back on her head. Rather than brushing the sawdust that covered her head, shoulders and chest, Robyn’s hands caressed what would eventually be a huge bowl.
Before Grace had kissed Robyn, she would have let herself imagine what Robyn’s hands would feel like on her skin. Now she felt foolish watching someone who had made it clear she wasn’t the least bit interested. Had she not just brought her brother back home with her, she might have pushed a little harder, but Tyler’s living with her dropped her love life significantly lower on her list of priorities. Not wanting to stand there pining about how many things had shifted, she broke the silence. “I had no idea your shop was right here.”
Robyn’s hand flew to her chest. “You startled me!”
“I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“I was just thinking I’d call it a day.” She tucked the tool she’d been using into a box hanging on the wall and brushed her hands on her thighs.
“How long will it take to finish this piece?”
“It’ll be pieces, actually. Tomorrow, I’ll cut out the middle in stages. I’ll probably be able to cut three stacking bowls. They’ll get coated in wax and hang out in the shop until they’re dry enough to do a more finished turn.” She pointed to shelves deeper in the garage filled with all different sizes of bowls as well as hunks of wood that had yet to be touched.
Grace stepped carefully across the carpet of sawdust and picked up a bowl. She puzzled at a notation in pencil.
Robyn stood so close their shoulders touched, and she did nothing to avoid Grace’s hands when she took the bowl. The brush of her fingers sent a zing through Grace. So much for her priorities shifting.
“I mark them to remember where I found them, what kind of wood it is and how long it’s been curing. This is madrone I found on the Oregon coast. I did the rough turn in June. See how it’s elongated in the last six months?” She tipped it to look at it in profile, showing Grace how the sides had also curved up in the middle, giving it the shape of a football, not a bowl.
“Why the Oregon coast?”
“I find different wood to work with, and there aren’t many places you can actually take driftwood off the beach.”
“I was just in Oregon. I could have combed the beach for you.”
“Kristine said you were away. So you have a roommate now?” Robyn asked, putting the bowl back on the shelf.
“Yes, I brought Tyler home with me.”
Robyn’s eyebrows popped up.
“What?”
“I’m just surprised.”
“You’re the one who said I’m only hurting myself if I don’t let go of my anger.”
“I know what I said. But there’s a big difference between hearing something and listening. You listened. I’m impressed.”
Grace wasn’t sure what would have made Robyn think that she had trouble listening, and bristled at the suggestion. She gestured at the walls lined with neatly organized tools. “He’d love this. He’d made a shop in my sister’s barn, changing my sister’s junk into things he’s trying to sell. Upcycling he calls it.”
“Did he bring anything with him?”
“We only had room for the bench I bought from him and a few of his smaller projects. I’m making a website for him, and we’ll put pictures of the other things he’s made on it. He’d like to jump into that a hundred percent, but I’ve got him looking for work that offers a steady paycheck. Either that or enroll at the community college.”
“I’d like to see what he’s doing to recommission old things,” Robyn said, genuine interest sparkling in her eyes.
Grace hesitated. She was proud of what Tyler had made but didn’t want him to get distracted from the goal they had set.
Robyn seemed to sense Grace’s discomfort and asked, “How’s it going with him?”
“It’s only been a few days…” Grace appreciated that Robyn didn’t push about Tyler’s projects and that she seemed interested in the shift in her life. “He’s doing fine. We’re finding a rhythm. I want to support him, but I feel a lot of pressure to make sure he finds the right path.”
Silence hung between them momentarily. Robyn opened her mouth to speak but turned her head and let out a long breath. When she glanced back at Grace, Robyn brushed sawdust off her forearms and said, “I’m glad you’re helping him.”
Grace could see clearly that Robyn had been about to say something else, but whatever it was, she took it with her out of the shop, waiting for Grace to follow before she swung the doors shut. “What were you going to say?” she pressed.
“Nothing,” Robyn said without meeting Grace’s eyes.
Grace crossed her arms and stood her ground.
Robyn relented. “I thought I got you. You had your big speech about how I could do something bigger with my bowls, yet you don’t want to encourage your brother’s craft. That’s a puzzle.”
Grace took a breath to argue that Robyn had artistic talent that deserved more attention than she got, and then realized that Robyn was suggesting that what Tyler did was art. “Wait. His stuff could be terrible. What do you know until you’ve seen it?”
“The look on your face when you said you bought one of his benches. It means something to you.”
“He made it out of our childhood crib. It holds great sentimental value.”
The smile Robyn attempted to hide betrayed how little she believed Grace. “Somehow I doubt that you would buy something solely for the memory. I’d put money on it having more value than that. Upcycling is hot right now. If he’s got a knack, he could be successful…” She paused, searching Grace’s eyes with an intensity that made Grace feel utterly exposed. “But I guess it depends on what your idea of success is. Barb called stuff like that junk.” She bowed slightly before she walked away from Grace.
Grace refused to follow immediately, stung by Robyn comparing her to Barb. And she didn’t appreciate Robyn’s insinuating that she was a snob. Digging her phone from her pocket, she marched after Robyn. “He doesn’t make junk,” she insisted, pulling up some pictures of the table she had liked so much.
“I never said he did,” Robyn said, accepting Grace’s phone. She nodded appreciatively as she scrolled through a dozen pictures. “That’s really something.” Her words were heavy with meaning. “You have a chance here to encourage beauty. Isn’t that sometimes what’s most important?”
Despite the chill in the evening air, Robyn’s hands were warm against Grace’s when she pressed the phone back into her hands. For a moment, Grace forgot they were talking about her brother. She’d never seen such an open expression on Robyn’s face. She felt the urge to step closer and find Robyn’s warm lips again but resisted. Robyn must know how she felt. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their one kiss. However, knowing the details of Robyn’s recent breakup, she wouldn’t push again. Whether more developed between them was up to Robyn.
“I’m hitting an estate auction tomorrow. I’m sure he’d find stuff to work with if you want me to take him along,” Robyn offered.
“How about you text me the info and we’ll join you if we can.” Grace somehow felt jealous of the invitation extended to her brother, but not to her.
Robyn held out her hand again and raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“What?” Grace finally asked.
“Won’t you need my number in your phone?”
“Of course,” Grace said, flustered by the decidedly flirtatious way Robyn had delivered the line. Robyn had said earlier that she thought she “got” Grace. As she pulled up her contacts and handed the phone to Robyn for her to punch in the number, she realized that the tables had turned, she didn’t know Robyn as well as she thought.