by Lisa Ruff
When the globe reached the size she wanted, she allowed it to cool slightly, and then used a wooden mallet to break away the mold. With a dollop of hot glass, she attached a punty to the newly exposed base. She scored the neck with a jack and broke the blowpipe free with a tap of a mallet. Deftly, with smooth turns of her wrist, she kept the shape rolling and turning, this time with the punty.
She wasn’t any happier with Steve. After Patrick’s bombshell, her so-called suitor couldn’t get away fast enough. The whole fiasco with Patrick and Steve had shaken her resolve about finding a father for her child. Maybe she should just raise the baby alone. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the male half of the species at all. Kate’s lips tightened. More heat from the torch kept the glass pliable as she worked to expand the mouth of the globe and used a wood paddle to flatten the rim.
Her mind still on Patrick, Kate grabbed another small glob of glass, spun it out and traced it around the lip of the opening, creating a smooth bead. She rested the punty on the floor yoke and put the orb back into the oven for more heat. When she judged it hot enough, she pulled it out and twirled it sharply. The bulbous globe abruptly became a bowl. Swinging the punty as she twirled, she added a decorative wave around the lip and finished the piece.
Molly walked in just as Kate brought the bowl upright. “You’re just in time. Give me a hand for a second, will you?”
Molly grabbed a set of Kevlar mitts off the rack. When she had the bowl cupped in her hands, Kate tapped it off the punty and opened the annealer. Molly set it inside, where it would cool for a few days, the heat slowly dissipating until the glass hardened. Kate shut the door.
“That was gorgeous,” Molly said. “I’ve never seen you do anything like that before.”
“It’s a new process using a sand mold.”
“I hope there’s more where that came from.”
“I don’t,” Kate said sharply. “Given who inspired it.”
“Patrick? Is that why you’re worked up?” Molly asked with a sympathetic smile. She slipped off the gloves and wiped her brow. “Patience, dear. It will all work out.”
Kate tucked a strand of hair back into her bandanna. “I hope you’re right, but just now I’m losing hope.”
Her aunt gave her a hug. “You’ll get your family, Kate. You just have to keep working at it.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ve got to go get a load of clay,” Molly said. “Do you need me to run any errands for you?”
“No, but thanks for the pep talk.”
“That’s my job,” Molly said with a chuckle.
Molly left the studio and Kate pulled out another blowpipe. She started forming a small glass vase and continued mulling over her situation. When she finished the piece, she looked at it critically and started another. Four hours later, she placed a third vase alongside the first two and the bowl. Kate closed the door to the annealing oven. She ought to be happy; for the first time in days, she had finished four pieces that pleased her. The bowl might even turn out to be one of her best works yet. Her aggravations had finally fueled her art instead of interfering with it.
Kate turned off the lights and closed the door behind her with a snick of the lock. Outside, she breathed in the summer air, which, despite the heat, felt cool to her after hours in front of her furnaces. She could smell the spicy scent of geraniums from the garden, a welcome change from the acrid odor of hot dichroic. Pulling off her bandanna, Kate ran her fingers through her hair to let the breeze lift and separate the long damp strands. Walking leisurely along the path to the house, she spied a visitor seated on her steps. He rose when he saw her.
“What are you doing here?” Her question was blurted out without thought.
“Why, hello, Kate,” Evan McKenzie said. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses, which gave him the appearance of an enforcer. “It’s a pleasure to see you, too.”
Kate flushed with embarrassment at his pointed pleasantness; her question had sounded rude. “Hello, Evan,” she said, keeping her tone neutral this time. “What can I do for you?”
He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’m here because of Patrick.”
“Oh? Is it any of your business?” Kate moved around him and up the steps.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm, pulling off his sunglasses to hold her gaze with his own. “He’s my friend. I’m making it my business.”
Kate saw the determination in his face and sighed. “All right. Come inside then.”
Evan followed her into the house, down the hall to the kitchen. He took a seat at the table while Kate pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator. She filled two glasses, gave one to Evan and sat down across from him. After drinking deep of the icy liquid, she set the half-empty glass on the table and looked at him expectantly. He fidgeted with his own glass, but didn’t take a sip. She ran a finger over the condensation that had formed on the side of her glass. The room was quiet except for the faint tick of the clock on the wall. Now that he was here, Evan seemed to have nothing to say.
Finally, he spoke. “Kate. About Patrick—”
“Did he send you?”
Evan looked surprised at her question. “Me?” he asked, then laughed once. “I’m the last person Patrick would send as an emissary.” His cool green eyes warmed as he laughed a second time in genuine amusement.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because he’s been my best friend for nearly twenty years. I know him.”
“That’s nice but—”
“He’s very sorry about what happened on the boat.”
“I know. I accepted his apology already.”
“He still feels at fault.”
Kate rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Look, I know you’re here to help Patrick, but this really is just between him and me.”
Evan’s gaze sharpened, but his voice remained smooth. “Then why not make an effort to work things out with him?”
Kate took a sip of tea. “He’s not cut out to be a father.”
Evan snorted. “Come on, Kate. Who really knows what kind of parent they’ll be before they’ve got a kid to practice on?”
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Evan beat her to it. “You haven’t seen all sides of Patrick. He’s great with kids. Have you ever seen him around his family?”
“No. I’ve only seen him with Ian.”
Evan leaned forward and shoved the glass of tea to one side. He clasped his fingers together and surveyed her coolly. “What if I told you that family was one of the most important things in Patrick’s life?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“What if I could prove it to you? Would you give me a chance to do that?”
Kate was uncertain what she should—or could—answer. “I’m sure Patrick loves his family, but that doesn’t have anything to do with him and me.”
“Sure it does,” he said softly, his eyes intense. “This is about building a family, isn’t it? And whether Patrick’s qualified for the job. But you’re dismissing him before you’ve done a thorough background investigation.”
Kate squirmed in her seat. “So how are you going to prove to me that I’m wrong?”
“Tomorrow. One o’clock at Bayside Park. Be there.”
“Why?”
“Patrick’s parents are having a picnic for the marina crew and the family.”
“I really don’t think this is going to make a difference, Evan.”
“I think you’re wrong.” Evan paused. His eyes were fierce, boring into hers. “But don’t take my word for it. Come see for yourself. You owe him that much, Kate. He may not be perfect, but he’s a good guy.”
“I never said he wasn’t.”
“No?” Evan stood, pulled his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and slipped them on, hiding his eyes again. “But you made him think it, which is pretty much the same in my book.”
“I don’t want to hurt him, but I have to think of this baby.”
“Then do it
for the baby. Come to the picnic because you owe it to your child to see what Patrick is really like when he’s with his family.”
She couldn’t read him at all now, not with the sunglasses masking his face. She was reluctantly impressed with his defense of Patrick. She hadn’t thought Evan capable of a serious conversation like this.
“Okay, Evan. I’ll see if you’re right. I’ll come to the picnic.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” His mission accomplished, Evan turned to go. Kate followed him through the house and out the front door. On the porch, he looked back at her.
“You’re a good friend, Evan.”
“He’s family. I would do anything for him.”
“I believe you mean that.”
“I do.” Evan tipped his sunglasses down, letting her see how serious he was.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Remind me to never buy a car from you.”
“Haven’t lost a sale yet,” he said with a grin and a wink.
With that, Evan McKenzie turned and walked down the sidewalk to where a sleek red convertible waited. He got in and drove away with a single parting wave. Kate watched him go, silently chewing over his words. She couldn’t believe he had talked her into going to the picnic. As she went back inside and closed the door behind her, she muttered, “What have I done now?”
KATE PULLED HER CAR into a parking space and turned off the ignition. Signs posted at the entrance to the park had directed her this far. Sounds of laughing, screaming children would lead her the rest of the way. She could hear them even with the windows rolled up. Kate made no move to join them. The car started to warm in the sun, but still she sat. She was sure that if she got out of the car and joined the picnic, she would be committing herself to something. What, she wasn’t sure. But surely, just attending a picnic didn’t mean she had changed her mind about Patrick. A hot dog and potato salad were not going to miraculously make him a better father. So why not start the car and drive away?
Because you owe it to Patrick. You owe it to your baby.
Kate grimaced. The voice of her conscience sounded remarkably like Evan McKenzie’s. The thought was enough to goad her into moving. She grabbed her purse and slid out of the car, letting the joyful sound of children lead her toward the festivities.
She walked over the hot asphalt, then onto grass and under trees, where she felt immediately cooler. Across the lawn, a large pavilion was filled with picnic tables, a barbecue and people. Smoke drifted up and over the crowd as they set food on the tables. A red, green and white banner strung between posts announced the “Annual A&E Marine Picnic.” Balloons and streamers decorated the rest of the pavilion, waving gently in the breeze.
A Frisbee landed at Kate’s feet, startling her. She reached down to pick it up just as Evan came jogging over.
“Kate. What took you so long? I was beginning to think you’d chickened out.” He held his hand out for the disc.
“Smart-ass,” she said tartly.
Evan grinned. “And that’s one of my lovable traits.”
“Does Patrick know I’m going to be here?”
Turning abruptly away, he shouted across the lawn. “Hey, Patrick! You’ve got a guest!” Then he turned back to Kate. “He does now.” Evan threw the Frisbee to a young boy and ran off.
Kate saw Patrick spin around at Evan’s shout. He was standing under the wide branches of a tall maple, an older woman with bright red hair by his side. The shout drew everyone’s attention to Kate. She tried to ignore the stares and kept her eyes on Patrick as he walked toward her.
“Hello, Kate. What a surprise.” His greeting was friendly enough, but she could see the suspicion in his body, the way he walked, the stiff set of his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
Kate lifted her chin. “I got a special invitation. From Evan.”
Patrick slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were opaque, but his brows rose, signaling his surprise. “Really? What’d he have to do to drag you here?”
She shrugged. “I can leave if you want.”
Patrick stared at her for a long moment. “What about Steve? Does he know you’re here?”
The question caught her off guard, making her reply harsh. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Yes, it is,” Patrick said in a low tone. “Everything about this is my—”
“Patrick, dear. Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”
The red-haired woman had come up beside him without either of them noticing. She examined Kate with the same clear gray eyes as Patrick’s, but hers were bright with curiosity and a touch of humor.
“Ma, please—”
“I’m Elaine Berzani.” The woman held out a hand, grasping Kate’s with birdlike bones. “Patrick’s mother.”
“Kate Stevens.”
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Elaine said cheerfully.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Kate replied.
“Patrick didn’t mention that he had invited anyone.”
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Oh, gracious, no. The more the merrier.”
“Give us a minute, will you, Ma?” Patrick asked. “Kate and I need to talk.”
“Nonsense. What you need is a nice plate of barbecued chicken.” Elaine ignored her son’s scowl and slipped an arm through Kate’s. “Come along, dear. You look hungry.”
“Mrs. Berzani, I—”
“Please, call me Elaine.” She patted Kate’s arm. “We can’t have my newest grandchild starving to death, can we, dear?”
Kate turned to look at Patrick, shocked speechless by Elaine’s words.
“Who told you?” he asked.
“Ian did. The day you hit your truck.” Elaine looked surprised. “Am I not supposed to know? Is it a secret?”
Patrick ran a hand through his hair in obvious bewilderment.
“Well, it won’t be one for long now, will it?” Elaine patted Kate’s stomach affectionately. “Pregnancies never are,” she added with a laugh.
“Mrs. Berzani, I—”
“Elaine, Kate. Please, I insist.” The older woman beamed a smile at her. “I can’t tell you how pleased I was to hear about the baby. Of course, it would have been better to hear it from the source—” she shot a look at Patrick “—but no matter. What does matter is that you are here today.”
All at once the small woman enfolded Kate in a warm embrace. The unexpectedness and the sincerity undid her. Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes and a sob slipped out from her throat. She closed her eyes against more tears.
Elaine’s grip tightened and she rubbed a comforting hand over Kate’s back. “There, there, dear. Having a baby’s a roller-coaster ride, isn’t it?”
The understanding words broke the dam inside Kate. She started to cry in earnest, great, gasping sobs of sorrow, happiness, anger and joy all jumbled together. She had no control. All she could do was hold on and wait for the end. Kate felt hands grasp her, drawing her away from Elaine. Seconds later she was clasped in Patrick’s strong arms. The fit was so much better, his shoulder at the perfect height for her head, his grip the exact pressure she needed to feel secure.
Slowly, her sobs subsided. Kate kept her face turned into Patrick’s neck. She could hear the steady thud of his heart in her ear and felt her own heartbeat slow to match it. His hand stroked her back, soothing her from nape to waist. Another more delicate hand patted her gently, too. A napkin was slipped into her hand and Kate grasped it blindly.
“Oh, no,” she moaned.
“It’s all right, Katie,” Patrick said softly in her ear.
She lifted her head and saw the large damp spot on Patrick’s gray T-shirt. She blotted it with the napkin until Patrick grabbed her hand.
“Don’t worry about it.” She looked up to see him smiling tenderly down at her. “A little salt water hasn’t hurt me yet.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispere
d. “It’s just that your mother was so nice. I didn’t expect it.”
Patrick pressed a kiss to her lips. “No, I’m sorry.” He squeezed her gently. “This is my fault.”
“No, I—”
“Sometimes I forget you’re pregnant,” he interrupted. “My sister, Jeannie, cries all the time when she’s expecting. We take turns seeing how little a thing will set her off,” he said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“And Charlie is ready to scalp you all by the end of the first trimester,” Elaine added with a slap at her son’s arm.
Patrick merely grinned. Kate turned to face Elaine, slipping away from Patrick. He only let her go so far, keeping an arm around her waist.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Berzani. I don’t usually cry all over people I’ve just met.”
With a soft touch, Elaine grasped Kate’s hands in hers. “I knew there was something bothering my son. I’m glad you’re it. Now, Patrick, bring Kate along for some food,” she added with one last squeeze of her fingers. “Antonio will be just as thrilled to meet you.”
Kate found herself in the midst of the crowd of people under the pavilion. Patrick stayed at her side, introducing her to first one, then another person. The names went in one ear and out the other. Someone pressed a bottle of beer into her hands. Patrick whisked it away and called for a can of soda. He kept the beer for himself, took a long drink, then dropped a kiss on her lips. Kate blushed and pulled away.
The can of soda arrived, carried by Ian. He grinned at her and offered her a damp cloth, too. “Ma said you might want this, Kate.”
“Give me that,” Patrick said, taking the cloth. “Hold this.” He handed her his beer and ran the damp fabric gently over her cheeks.
“Let me do that, Patrick.” Kate reached for his hand, but he dodged her grasp. “I should go clean up. I must be a mess.”
“You look fine, Katie.” He pressed a kiss to her lips again and several women giggled.