Why Not Tonight
Page 56
Ronan stood on the landing. She couldn’t read his expression and had no idea what he was thinking.
“You’re right,” he told her. “I do like it. All of it. You, my brothers, working again. That scares the hell out of me because it could all be gone in a second.”
“Only if you walk away from us,” she told him. “Otherwise we’re just here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
She motioned for him to come inside. He walked into the living room. When she’d closed and locked the door, he reached for her, pulling her close. Then his mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere and absolutely nothing else mattered but the man and how he made her feel.
* * *
MONDAY MORNING RONAN was back in the gallery studio. He hadn’t been sure of his reception but both his brothers greeted him as if the previous week of angst hadn’t happened. His work went well and his demons receded. It turned out Natalie had been right—he was a stupid butthead.
Around eleven, his cell phone rang.
“Where are you?” he asked by way of greeting. “I thought you were working in the office today.”
“I was.” Natalie sounded like her normal happy self. “I had to run some errands. Then Ted called from the recycling center and told me they had something for me.” She laughed. “It’s amazing and you have to come right now. I mean, right now. This second. Bring your truck. You’re going to be so excited.”
“Uh-huh. What is it?”
“I’m not going to tell you. It’s a surprise.”
Which could mean anything from a bag of recycled cans to he had no idea what. “Give me five minutes and I’ll head out.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He hung up. “I have to go to the recycling center.”
Nick chuckled. “Did she say what it was?”
“No.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Whatever it is, I’m bringing it back here. I’m not going through this alone.”
Nick was still laughing when Ronan left.
He drove to the recycling center and parked. Natalie danced out of the main building and raced over to him.
“It’s so great. We’re so lucky Ted called. What a nice guy.”
“Uh-huh. What is it?”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. At first all he saw was the normal clutter of refurbished leftovers for sale, but then he noticed a battered item on the floor.
He stared at the old, beat-up bowl with a flat disc in it, all supported on a slightly tilted table. What on earth?
“Isn’t it great?” Natalie asked, beaming at him. “I’m so excited. The second Ted saw it, he thought of me.”
“Of course he did. What is it?”
She looked shocked. “It’s a pottery wheel.”
He looked closer and recognized the components. The table could be adjusted up and down, and he saw a foot pedal, no doubt to control the speed.
“I’ve never thrown pottery,” he said cautiously, knowing it wasn’t going to matter. Natalie had made up her mind.
“I haven’t, either, but come on. It’s only twenty-five dollars and it’s in great shape. Ted said the motor still works. What’s not to like?”
He knew he shouldn’t bother, but he couldn’t help asking, “Why do you want this?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “For the school. Your art classes. The kids will love it and it’s small enough we can take it to them!”
“Sure, but that brings me back to my earlier point that neither of us knows what we’re doing.”
Her expression turned pitying. “Ronan, we’re artists. We’ll learn how to work with the wheel. We have time. I’m not saying we’ll be great, but we can study the basics and then teach the kids. We can fire their work and bring it when we come back.”
He knew better than to fight her. “Okay, then.” He pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties into the cash tin on the counter. “Let’s get it back to the studio.”
They wrestled the table and wheel into the back of his truck. When they got back to the studio, both Mathias and Nick came out to see what they’d bought.
“Is it alive?” Mathias asked hopefully. “Is it a baby gazelle?”
“I knew you were missing Sophie,” Ronan muttered, remembering how his brother had looked after their mother’s dog the previous year. “Get a puppy.”
“I want to but not until Carol has the baby. That way they can grow up together.”
Nick shook his head. “Sure. A newborn and potty training. That’s smart.” He peered over the side of the truck. “Cool. A pottery wheel. That’s a great idea. You can take it to the school and teach kids how to use it.”
Natalie’s expression turned knowing. “See?”
Ronan held in a sigh. “I’ve heard that one already.”
“What he really means,” Natalie said as the guys easily lifted the wheel down, then carried it into the studio, “is that we don’t know how to work with a wheel.”
“That’s why they have YouTube videos,” Mathias said as he walked to his computer. “We already have clay. This is going to be fun.”
In less time than he would have thought, they were all covered in clay and laughing over their disasters. As with many techniques, it was harder than it looked. Natalie had produced a passably acceptable bowl. Nick turned everything he touched into an oversize penis and Mathias kept pressing too hard to the left, creating lopsided, undefinable blobs.
“I would have thought you’d be the best of all of us,” Ronan admitted. “You make dishes and vases all the time. Shouldn’t you be able to translate into clay the easiest?”
“I’m ignoring you,” Mathias said cheerfully, taking his turn at the wheel. “At least I’m not advertising my inability to satisfy my wife.” He nodded at Nick’s long and bulbous creation.
“Hey, Pallas is perfectly satisfied. I was trying to make a tall vase.”
“Sure you were.”
Ronan caught Natalie’s gaze and winked at her. She laughed. He felt the weight he’d been carrying lighten a little. She was good for him, he admitted, knowing it was equally important that he be good for her, as well.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NATALIE STUDIED THE CANVAS. It was the second time she’d finished the piece—the first had ended with it going up in flames. She still had to struggle not to wince when she thought about how horrible that had been. Although now, stepping back and looking at what she’d completed, she had to concede this one was even better.
She liked the different textures from all the items she’d used. Found bits and buttons and ribbon and fabric all blended perfectly with the paper flowers and butterflies that made up the foundation. There was something alive, a sense of hope. Or maybe that was just her. Regardless, it was finished and now she had to suck it up and show Atsuko.
She should have done it yesterday, she thought. Or the day before. But fear was a bitch and she’d had to work up the courage. Not that her boss would ever be anything less than supportive. She had a feeling Atsuko would take the piece and put it in the gallery. It was the price that was the reckoning.
She grabbed the canvas in both hands and started for the door. Nick beat her to it and held it open, then murmured, “Good luck.”
“You’re right,” he told her. “I do like it. All of it. You, my brothers, working again. That scares the hell out of me because it could all be gone in a second.”
“Only if you walk away from us,” she told him. “Otherwise we’re just here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
She motioned for him to come inside. He walked into the living room. When she’d closed and locked the door, he reached for her, pulling her close. Then his mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere and absolutely nothing else mattered but the man and how he made her feel.
* * *
MONDAY MORNING RONAN was back in the gallery studio. He hadn’t been sure of his reception but both his brothers greeted him as if the previous week of angst hadn’t happened. His work went well and his demons receded. It turned out Natalie had been right—he was a stupid butthead.
Around eleven, his cell phone rang.
“Where are you?” he asked by way of greeting. “I thought you were working in the office today.”
“I was.” Natalie sounded like her normal happy self. “I had to run some errands. Then Ted called from the recycling center and told me they had something for me.” She laughed. “It’s amazing and you have to come right now. I mean, right now. This second. Bring your truck. You’re going to be so excited.”
“Uh-huh. What is it?”
“I’m not going to tell you. It’s a surprise.”
Which could mean anything from a bag of recycled cans to he had no idea what. “Give me five minutes and I’ll head out.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He hung up. “I have to go to the recycling center.”
Nick chuckled. “Did she say what it was?”
“No.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Whatever it is, I’m bringing it back here. I’m not going through this alone.”
Nick was still laughing when Ronan left.
He drove to the recycling center and parked. Natalie danced out of the main building and raced over to him.
“It’s so great. We’re so lucky Ted called. What a nice guy.”
“Uh-huh. What is it?”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. At first all he saw was the normal clutter of refurbished leftovers for sale, but then he noticed a battered item on the floor.
He stared at the old, beat-up bowl with a flat disc in it, all supported on a slightly tilted table. What on earth?
“Isn’t it great?” Natalie asked, beaming at him. “I’m so excited. The second Ted saw it, he thought of me.”
“Of course he did. What is it?”
She looked shocked. “It’s a pottery wheel.”
He looked closer and recognized the components. The table could be adjusted up and down, and he saw a foot pedal, no doubt to control the speed.
“I’ve never thrown pottery,” he said cautiously, knowing it wasn’t going to matter. Natalie had made up her mind.
“I haven’t, either, but come on. It’s only twenty-five dollars and it’s in great shape. Ted said the motor still works. What’s not to like?”
He knew he shouldn’t bother, but he couldn’t help asking, “Why do you want this?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “For the school. Your art classes. The kids will love it and it’s small enough we can take it to them!”
“Sure, but that brings me back to my earlier point that neither of us knows what we’re doing.”
Her expression turned pitying. “Ronan, we’re artists. We’ll learn how to work with the wheel. We have time. I’m not saying we’ll be great, but we can study the basics and then teach the kids. We can fire their work and bring it when we come back.”
He knew better than to fight her. “Okay, then.” He pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties into the cash tin on the counter. “Let’s get it back to the studio.”
They wrestled the table and wheel into the back of his truck. When they got back to the studio, both Mathias and Nick came out to see what they’d bought.
“Is it alive?” Mathias asked hopefully. “Is it a baby gazelle?”
“I knew you were missing Sophie,” Ronan muttered, remembering how his brother had looked after their mother’s dog the previous year. “Get a puppy.”
“I want to but not until Carol has the baby. That way they can grow up together.”
Nick shook his head. “Sure. A newborn and potty training. That’s smart.” He peered over the side of the truck. “Cool. A pottery wheel. That’s a great idea. You can take it to the school and teach kids how to use it.”
Natalie’s expression turned knowing. “See?”
Ronan held in a sigh. “I’ve heard that one already.”
“What he really means,” Natalie said as the guys easily lifted the wheel down, then carried it into the studio, “is that we don’t know how to work with a wheel.”
“That’s why they have YouTube videos,” Mathias said as he walked to his computer. “We already have clay. This is going to be fun.”
In less time than he would have thought, they were all covered in clay and laughing over their disasters. As with many techniques, it was harder than it looked. Natalie had produced a passably acceptable bowl. Nick turned everything he touched into an oversize penis and Mathias kept pressing too hard to the left, creating lopsided, undefinable blobs.
“I would have thought you’d be the best of all of us,” Ronan admitted. “You make dishes and vases all the time. Shouldn’t you be able to translate into clay the easiest?”
“I’m ignoring you,” Mathias said cheerfully, taking his turn at the wheel. “At least I’m not advertising my inability to satisfy my wife.” He nodded at Nick’s long and bulbous creation.
“Hey, Pallas is perfectly satisfied. I was trying to make a tall vase.”
“Sure you were.”
Ronan caught Natalie’s gaze and winked at her. She laughed. He felt the weight he’d been carrying lighten a little. She was good for him, he admitted, knowing it was equally important that he be good for her, as well.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NATALIE STUDIED THE CANVAS. It was the second time she’d finished the piece—the first had ended with it going up in flames. She still had to struggle not to wince when she thought about how horrible that had been. Although now, stepping back and looking at what she’d completed, she had to concede this one was even better.
She liked the different textures from all the items she’d used. Found bits and buttons and ribbon and fabric all blended perfectly with the paper flowers and butterflies that made up the foundation. There was something alive, a sense of hope. Or maybe that was just her. Regardless, it was finished and now she had to suck it up and show Atsuko.
She should have done it yesterday, she thought. Or the day before. But fear was a bitch and she’d had to work up the courage. Not that her boss would ever be anything less than supportive. She had a feeling Atsuko would take the piece and put it in the gallery. It was the price that was the reckoning.
She grabbed the canvas in both hands and started for the door. Nick beat her to it and held it open, then murmured, “Good luck.”
