The Woodworker

by Westlake, Samantha

  I had to try again. I felt the moment slipping away, through my clutching fingers. From the moment that I saw Ellie, that I met up with her to tell her I’d been named as a finalist, the whole tone of the competition, of tonight, had shifted.

  It was no longer about winning the competition, about losing face if I didn’t go home with an award. Tonight had become just about getting one more chance with Ellie, one more time to see her, to tell her my true feelings, before I lost her forever.

  My feelings for her. How had I gone so long, spent so much time living with her, and never realized just how strongly I cared about her? How had I gotten so angry over a single, stupid little issue and blown it all out of proportion? How could I have risked losing her forever? And now, when my entire relationship with her, any chance of redemption, hung in the balance – now, why couldn’t I find the right words?

  Just confess. Just get it out. I opened my mouth again, intending to finally try and get the words right – but the guy standing near the door beat me to the punch.

  “Richard Morgan?” he called out.

  I started at the sound of my name. “What?” I asked, turning towards him in confusion.

  He gestured with his thumb, inside. “They’re calling for you.”

  Why? I looked at Ellie, but she stepped forward, gave me a little push towards the open doorway. I wanted to tell this guy at the door that I didn’t care about anything happening inside, but I felt my feet carrying me inwards, away from her.

  I stepped into the building, across the hallway, into the ballroom. Immediately, I found myself blinded as a spotlight hit me. Applause rose up from the guests, deafening me and knocking out another of my senses. I lifted a hand, trying to block out some of the bright light.

  “Richard Morgan!” boomed the emcee into the microphone. “Ah, picked just the right time to step outside, I see!”

  The crowd laughed around me as I tried to figure out what was happening.

  “That’s alright, we’re glad you made a dramatic entrance!” the emcee continued, and I heard his voice growing louder. A shadow passed in front of the spotlight tuned on me, and I felt another hand press something into my hands. I looked down and found a microphone held in one fist. The emcee stood behind me, beaming at me with perfectly white and even teeth, his hand on my back and urging me towards the stage.

  “What’s going on?” I managed to get out.

  The microphone must have caught my words, and the crowd laughed again. The emcee somehow managed to grin even more broadly, if such a thing was possible. How did he have that many teeth to flash?

  “What’s going on,” he replied brightly, “is that you’re our grand winner! The judging committee has spoken, and they felt that your piece, Leaping Stag, was an incredible demonstration of mastery in woodworking, and they chose you! Everyone in this room is waiting to hear what you have to say!”

  I felt the steps beneath my feet. I looked up, saw the tables of expectant listeners stretching out in front of me. The emcee had managed to get me up on stage, and he now took a step back, nodding to me.

  I looked out at the crowd. The bright lights trained on me made it tough to see details, but I thought I might have seen someone in a black dress slipping in at the back of the room.

  The silence grew longer, more pronounced. I had to speak. Why in the world had I been hoping to win this? What could I say?

  I opened my mouth, hoping that something would come out. From somewhere, deep within me, words rose and poured out. I spoke them, looking out at the audience. No more laughing or clapping now – aside from my voice, the room was perfectly silent.

  I didn’t think. I didn’t hear anything – not the words coming from my mouth, not my heart thumping in my chest.

  I spoke, and hoped that the one person in the world that mattered to me heard them.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Eileen

  * * *

  I followed after Rick as he stepped back inside to see why they’d been calling his name. It took me an embarrassing couple of seconds to put it together – him holding the microphone, standing up on stage. The emcee standing a respectful pace behind him, grinning broadly at no one in particular. The audience’s rapt attention.

  Rick had won.

  I stepped over the threshold of the ballroom’s entrance, not wanting to distract anyone by crossing in front of them if I returned to my seat. Rick stared out at the audience, a microphone gripped in one hand so tightly that I could see his knuckles turning white, but he didn’t speak.

  “Typical woodworker, eh?” chuckled a soft voice beside me.

  I turned, and found myself looking at the older, portly gentleman who’d been examining Rick’s statue earlier. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He gave me a grandfatherly smile. “Oh, I’ve been a judge at so many of these, over the years,” he murmured. “There’s something about the type of people who become woodworkers. Better with their hands than with their words, the whole lot of them. They’ll boast about their work in casual conversation, but they never know how to respond when they’re hit by something real, something big.”

  “Ellie!”

  My head twisted to look back at the stage, back at Rick. He’d finally managed to find his voice, it seemed, if only to get out one word. He stared out at the audience, and I could see him shaking a little as he took a deep breath.

  “All of this,” he said, “is due to one woman. Eileen Davies, someone I’ve only known for a matter of months, who’s managed to entirely change my life.”

  I felt like I was rooted to the ground, unable to speak, unable to breathe. Rick kept talking.

  “I met her when she insulted me, challenged me,” he kept going. “Over the last few months, she’s made me rethink everything I thought I knew. I thought that I had life figured out – and then she showed up and pointed out all the holes that I’d overlooked. She showed me all of my flaws.

  “And then, like an idiot, I lost her. I thought that I knew better than her, that my failings were justified. She tried to make me better, and I cast her out because of it.”

  Why was no one else in the audience saying anything? What was Rick saying? Why was my chest so tight, my eyes unable to tear away from his handsome features beneath the spotlights?

  “Us artists are good at creating – but we’re awful at so many other things. Organization. Handling the business aspects of what we do. Dealing with customers, taking orders, even recognizing the beauty in the very things that we create. We’ve become blind to our own art, see only the flaws in the things we shape from Nature’s raw materials. We’re blind to a lot of things – sometimes even our own feelings.”

  I saw Rick take a deep breath. His eyes still looked a little wide, as if a part of him couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth. “Sometimes, we fall in love with someone, right under our noses, and we don’t realize it until it’s too late. Or sometimes, we realize it, and we react by pushing her away, by refusing to admit what we know is true. We’re scared, and we can’t quite take that next step that we need to do.”

  Love. He’d said that he fell in love. I couldn’t breathe.

  “I met a woman,” Rick said, his voice a little fainter now as I struggled to pull air into my chest. “A woman who pushed my every button, got on my every nerve. She showed me every shortcoming, and I fell in love with her. I never acknowledged it, didn’t know what I had until I’d lost her. I might have lost her now, already. She’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life – both in my business life, and in my personal life – and I’m the idiot who messed it all up. All I can do now is pray for one more chance.”

  There were spots blinking at the edge of my vision.

  “We all have flaws,” Rick said, his voice sounding like it was coming from a great distance, now. “And because of that, we see flaws in our work, in all that we create. Sometimes, we need another to find the beauty that we overlook. And when you find someone like that-“


  The world spun around me. Oh god. My chest felt so tight, like it was about to implode. I felt my legs fail beneath me, felt myself falling.

  There was a thud, approaching thumps. I closed my eyes, the last thing I could still control, and prepared myself to hit the ground. I wondered if I’d lose consciousness before I felt the pain of impact, or after.

  I felt something – but it wasn’t the ground. It felt like something circling around me, a pair of cushioned bars that supported me, prevented me from falling all the way to the floor.

  Arms?

  I opened my eyes, still struggling to breathe. I found myself looking up at a pair of eyes – green eyes, eyes that I knew.

  Rick?

  “Ellie,” he murmured as he held me.

  I took my first breath, felt blessed oxygen flowing into my lungs. “You said love,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “I did. I do. Love you, that is. I’m sorry for confessing it up there on stage, in front of everyone…”

  Why was he still talking? I wanted to tell him to stop, but I needed my next breath to keep from passing out. Why didn’t he just-

  Finally, he snapped back to reality, looked down and read my mind. “Oh,” he said.

  And then he kissed me, his arms tightening to pull me up against him, as if he’d dipped me in a waltz of our entangled bodies.

  I kissed him back, finally felt my heart start beating again in my chest.

  “Took you long enough,” I whispered when our lips finally separated, when he lifted me the rest of the way to my feet, my body pressed up against his.

  Only then, as the rest of the world faded back into existence, did we hear the applause thundering from all around us.

  We looked up, remembered where we were. We were still in the ballroom, the Woodworkers’ Association, surrounded by all of the other prominent artists in the area. Rick had just won the Design in Wood competition, had given one of the most unexpected speeches that they’d probably ever heard, and then… what? Dashed off the stage to catch a fainting woman, and then kissed her?

  The applause kept on going, and we saw several other artists, at tables around us, rise up to their feet. We heard laughter, too, but it was for us, not at us. Behind Rick, up on stage, the emcee stepped forward, for once missing his glowing smile as he tried to work out how to recover from this.

  “Well, that’s quite the unusual acceptance speech!” he said, attempting to put his grin back on. “Let’s all give one more hand to Richard Morgan, our winner this year of the Design in Wood award!”

  The audience kept on clapping, as if he hadn’t spoken. People surged forward, surrounding us both. A woman offered me a glass of water, and I heard her murmur how lucky I was to find such a wonderful man. Several other artists came up to Rick, slapping him on the back and offering their hands to shake. More than a few other people offered business cards towards me, asking if I took on additional clients!

  Rick looked as overwhelmed by it all as I felt, but I still grabbed the business cards, more out of instinct than anything else. Briefly, I found myself wishing that I had some of my own that I could pass out.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Rick finally declared. His arm tightened around me, making it clear that he didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. He stepped forward, using his broad shoulders to push through the path. “Thank you, everyone!” he called out, raising his voice, “but I think we need some air!”

  Out in the courtyard, I kissed him again, this time putting more energy into it. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, smelled that little hint of sawdust that always seemed to cling to him. How the hell had I never realized that it was a potent scent, one that made my heart beat faster every time it caught my attention?

  He eagerly poured himself into the kiss, but I saw a shadow briefly cross his face when we separated for air. “Ellie,” he said, his tone serious. “I really do need to apologize again. I never should have pushed you away, and I was an idiot to get upset about you believing in me.”

  “We were both idiots,” I told him. “I stepped over the line. I didn’t think about your side, didn’t see how I could hurt you. I just wanted to do what I thought was right, didn’t consider your feelings.”

  “No, it’s my fault for blowing up at you.”

  I kissed him again, loving the feel of his body against mine. “It’s both of our fault,” I countered. “And if you say another word about it, I won’t let you enjoy what we’re going to do next.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re going to take me back to our house,” I whispered, pressing myself against him. “You’re going to carry me inside, up to your bedroom, and we’re going to make up to each other until neither of us has a drop of energy left in our bodies.”

  “Our house?” he repeated.

  I grinned, feeling drunk on love and happiness for just existing in this moment. “Since I’m the reason you won, that our business is doing so well, I think I should deserve a share.”

  “Our business?” he repeated, his eyebrows climbing higher on his forehead. “Listen, after I get you naked in my bed and do all sorts of nasty things to you, we are going to have a talk about how much of all this belongs to you.”

  “Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I’ll settle for fifty-one percent.”

  His eyebrows drew downward together and he grumbled angrily – but he also swept me off my feet, carrying me bodily over one shoulder towards where the valet had the car. I laughed even as I kicked my feet and beat my fists in mock protest against his broad back. “Fifty percent!” I screamed out, laughing through the words. “But that’s my final offer!”

  His hand smacked my bottom, and I laughed again, the entire world bright despite the sun no longer being present. He flipped me down, once again into his arms, and kissed me again, fiercely and hungrily, as the valet pulled up with the car.

  “You are going to keep on driving me crazy, aren’t you?” he asked. “Can’t you ever just let me win, not challenge me on everything?”

  “But isn’t it so much better if you win, instead of if I just give it to you?”

  Lust burned in his eyes. Lust – but love as well, bright and lighting up his entire face. How had I not seen it before? “You could make me snap another time,” he warned, even as he smiled.

  “And you’ll probably drive me crazy, too,” I countered. “At least, until I fix all the things about you that I need to change.”

  “Like what?”

  I counted them on my fingers as we sped through the night, back to his house, towards our future together. “Your ego, for one. Your fear of commitment. The fact that you insist on wearing a shirt around the house, I have to break that habit. That you keep on trying to rope me into cooking instead of bringing me my meals, as a queen deserves. Your love of all those stupid Die Hard movies…”

  “We’re here,” he declared, throwing the car into park.

  I looked up, amazed that we were already back at his house. Our house. “But I still have more things about you that I want to fix!” I protested, as his arms lifted me from my seat, bore me swiftly inside.

  “Later,” he growled, and then his mouth was on mine once again, the door swinging shut behind me as his hands tore at the little black dress.

  We didn’t make it up the stairs until the third session, and we didn’t manage to get in bed until the fourth. We left a trail of clothes behind us, a mess that I’d need to clean up tomorrow.

  I couldn’t even bring myself to mind. I had Rick, and I wasn’t going to ever let him go.

  Epilogue

  Rick

  * * *

  “This place looks different,” Niall remarked, although he had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the buzz of the sander.

  I took a moment before answering, running my fingers over the lines of the deer to make sure the curves flowed smoothly. Only once I felt satisfied did I lower it, turn to face Niall.

  “I decided that I needed to expan
d,” I said. “After all, now that I’ve got some larger pieces to build, I need the space to work on them properly.”

  “So you must be doing pretty well on the business side?” he asked, lifting the lip of his beer bottle to his mouth. “Of course, I knew that already, since you offered me the beer. You never pay for the booze if you can get away with it.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, things are picking up.”

  “And I suppose you’ll admit that it’s all due to the newly returned feminine energy in this place, is it not?”

  That made me raise my eyebrows. “What feminine energy?”

  Niall laughed. “Look around, man.” He pointed to the framed picture of Ellie and me, hoisting the trophy from the Design in Wood contest and beaming at the camera. He nodded next towards the small fridge humming away in the corner, stocked with cold beer. His hand finally pointed at the little vase of flowers that Ellie somehow always managed to keep fresh in my workshop, although I still couldn’t figure out from where she procured them or how I never saw them wilt – or get replaced.

  I considered arguing, but decided that it wasn’t worth the energy. “She’s put her little touch on things, yeah. Worth it, considering how much she finally helped me get my business back on track.”

  “Not just your business,” Niall observed. He took another pull of his beer as I bent over the wooden block I’d set aside for my next project. I’d mapped out the design on a sheet of paper and I began transferring the marks to the block, identifying where I’d make the cuts. “It’s not my place to meddle in your life, man, but I’m glad that you finally made the right choice regarding her.”

  “You mean, winning her back?” I asked, not looking up from the block.

  He snorted. “I mean, throwing yourself on her mercy and begging her to take you back! You’ve always been hopeless, but you were way worse without her. Go on, tell me that Ellie isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

  “I’ve never been hopeless,” I protested, mainly because I couldn’t deny that Ellie really was the best thing to ever fall into my life. “And I didn’t throw myself on her mercy! I gave a dramatic and passionate speech and won her love!”