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Authors: Bobby Hutchinson
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bedroom.
“Oh, biking, swimming, skiing. Soccer. I’d like to coach a kid’s soccer team if I could ever find the time. And fishing. I love to fly fish. Again, I don’t get much time to do it.”
Sera moved to the area of the loft that had been partitioned off to form a large and lovely bathroom. It had an enclosed shower and an immense oval tub, elevated and facing the window that formed one wall of the room. He’d stapled a blue striped sheet to a pole to serve as a window covering.
“Practical,” she remarked, not trying to hide her amusement.
“Well, I didn’t want the entire waterfront watching me have a bath.”
“Of course not.” She fantasized for a guilty delicious moment about him in a bathtub.
Get a grip, Sera . She glanced at him. He was eyeing her, and again she felt a prickly sort of awareness between them.
“Shall we go back downstairs? I think I’ve seen enough up here to have a feeling for what needs to be done.”
He stood aside so she could lead the way. Grendel also politely waited for her to go ahead. “This staircase is really effective. I can see it being used on a set. Staircases are great props. Actors love them because they can make grand entrances and exits.”
She was babbling. She stopped herself and took a deep breath as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “How the heck did you end up without any furniture if you shared a house?”
“The house was furnished by a decorator. Several decorators. I never liked the stuff very much. Lots of flowered couches and tiny tables and beds with tops on them. It suited the house, so I gave my share of it to Greg and Lily as part of their wedding gift. They’re the parents of Stanley, the kid in the drawing you admired at the office.” He got up and went over to the worktable. “I’m doing him in clay now. Then I’m going to cast the piece in bronze and give it to them for Christmas. Come and see what you think.”
Sera went over to the table as he carefully removed the coverings on the clay sculpture, revealing the image of a boy so real and vibrant it made her smile and exclaim softly in admiration. “It’s alive, Ben. Oh, it’s marvelous. You’re very talented.” She reached out a tentative hand and stroked the boy’s hair, which stood up in wild clumps.
“Did you ever think of becoming a sculptor instead of a doctor?’ ’
“For one insane moment when I was sixteen, yeah. But my mother very wisely arranged for me to meet a well known artist, a carver, and he told me how long it took him to begin to eke out a bare living. He didn’t try to discourage me, just told me the facts, and I decided it would make a great hobby. I knew even then that I didn’t have the dedication to spend years doing something that might or might not earn me a decent living.” He shot her a deprecating grin. “There’s this greedy side of me. I like good transportation and nice restaurants. So I sold out.”
He was looking at her again with that focus that was becoming familiar. Maybe it was just the way he looked at everyone. Maybe it was because he was an artist. Maybe it had nothing to do with attraction. She hoped she was wrong.
“I’m impressed all to hell that you’ve made a career out of your ability as an artist, Sera. I know it’s not an easy thing to do.”
“If it hadn’t been for my father, I’d probably have given up and gotten a job as a receptionist or something after I left university. But Papa always made certain I had money and a credit card and a decent place to live, so I was able to volunteer for theater projects, and that gave me valuable experience that came in handy when I applied for paying jobs. I was lucky, too. In L.A. a set designer for one of the major television studios took me on as an apprentice. Her name’s Maisie Jones. I’m now her assistant designer. It’s a big thrill to get paid good money for what I was happy to do free.”
She’d also gained a friend in Maisie, which seemed an
“Oh, biking, swimming, skiing. Soccer. I’d like to coach a kid’s soccer team if I could ever find the time. And fishing. I love to fly fish. Again, I don’t get much time to do it.”
Sera moved to the area of the loft that had been partitioned off to form a large and lovely bathroom. It had an enclosed shower and an immense oval tub, elevated and facing the window that formed one wall of the room. He’d stapled a blue striped sheet to a pole to serve as a window covering.
“Practical,” she remarked, not trying to hide her amusement.
“Well, I didn’t want the entire waterfront watching me have a bath.”
“Of course not.” She fantasized for a guilty delicious moment about him in a bathtub.
Get a grip, Sera . She glanced at him. He was eyeing her, and again she felt a prickly sort of awareness between them.
“Shall we go back downstairs? I think I’ve seen enough up here to have a feeling for what needs to be done.”
He stood aside so she could lead the way. Grendel also politely waited for her to go ahead. “This staircase is really effective. I can see it being used on a set. Staircases are great props. Actors love them because they can make grand entrances and exits.”
She was babbling. She stopped herself and took a deep breath as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “How the heck did you end up without any furniture if you shared a house?”
“The house was furnished by a decorator. Several decorators. I never liked the stuff very much. Lots of flowered couches and tiny tables and beds with tops on them. It suited the house, so I gave my share of it to Greg and Lily as part of their wedding gift. They’re the parents of Stanley, the kid in the drawing you admired at the office.” He got up and went over to the worktable. “I’m doing him in clay now. Then I’m going to cast the piece in bronze and give it to them for Christmas. Come and see what you think.”
Sera went over to the table as he carefully removed the coverings on the clay sculpture, revealing the image of a boy so real and vibrant it made her smile and exclaim softly in admiration. “It’s alive, Ben. Oh, it’s marvelous. You’re very talented.” She reached out a tentative hand and stroked the boy’s hair, which stood up in wild clumps.
“Did you ever think of becoming a sculptor instead of a doctor?’ ’
“For one insane moment when I was sixteen, yeah. But my mother very wisely arranged for me to meet a well known artist, a carver, and he told me how long it took him to begin to eke out a bare living. He didn’t try to discourage me, just told me the facts, and I decided it would make a great hobby. I knew even then that I didn’t have the dedication to spend years doing something that might or might not earn me a decent living.” He shot her a deprecating grin. “There’s this greedy side of me. I like good transportation and nice restaurants. So I sold out.”
He was looking at her again with that focus that was becoming familiar. Maybe it was just the way he looked at everyone. Maybe it was because he was an artist. Maybe it had nothing to do with attraction. She hoped she was wrong.
“I’m impressed all to hell that you’ve made a career out of your ability as an artist, Sera. I know it’s not an easy thing to do.”
“If it hadn’t been for my father, I’d probably have given up and gotten a job as a receptionist or something after I left university. But Papa always made certain I had money and a credit card and a decent place to live, so I was able to volunteer for theater projects, and that gave me valuable experience that came in handy when I applied for paying jobs. I was lucky, too. In L.A. a set designer for one of the major television studios took me on as an apprentice. Her name’s Maisie Jones. I’m now her assistant designer. It’s a big thrill to get paid good money for what I was happy to do free.”
She’d also gained a friend in Maisie, which seemed an
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