Beginnings by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page B

respect his opinion. She plucked up the contract, which she had placed on the floor beside her chair, and handed it across the table. While Henry leafed through it, Beth shared the details of the visit from Sean McCauley and their conversation. Both Henry and Mom listened intently, interrupting occasionally to ask a question.
    Beth finished, “It looks like it would be a wonderful opportunity if I can satisfy them with that first project.”
    Henry looked over the top of the contract, his eyebrows high. “And all the expense falls on you if they don’t like it. Can you absorb that?”
    Beth grimaced. “It would be painful. It would take quite a few craft-fair sales to make up for it, that’s for sure. But the risk would be worth it considering the potential payoff if they do like it. Lots more work, plus the income to expand the studio and buy the equipment I need to be completely self-sufficient.”
    Henry nodded and went back to reading.
    “What about the gallery in Wichita?” Mom, leaning sideways to peek at the contract, shifted her gaze in Beth’s direction. “Can’t they keep you busy enough?”
    With a shrug, Beth stifled her frustration. Being torn between the gallery opportunities and the construction company’s opportunities left her feeling bruised. “I don’t know. They did commission a second piece, and Mrs. Fox indicated there would be more, but it’s still small scale compared to what McCauley is after.”
    Henry shot a startled glance at his wife. “The gallery commissioned Beth to do a second piece?”
    Mom nodded, pride shining in her face. “Yes, they did. She delivered the first one, and they immediately asked for a second.”
    Beth wriggled on her chair, feeling as though she’d been forgotten.
    But Henry set the contract aside and fixed his gaze on her. “There’s no doubt this could be financially lucrative if it works out, Beth. I guess what it comes down to is what you want to accomplish with your studio. Do you want to be strictly an artist, creating your own designs on your own time clock, which gives you freedom but maybe lacks security? Or do you want the security of knowing you’ll have steady jobs, putting together windows with someone else’s idea at the heart, and you serving as the constructor?”
    Steady, secure work opposite sporadic, unreliable contracts. Designing her own projects opposite following someone else’s lead. The thoughts ping-ponged in Beth’s mind, making her dizzy with the possible pros and cons of each position. Finally, she threw her hands out and huffed in aggravation. “I want the security with the freedom to create my own stuff!”
    Henry chuckled softly while Mom shook her head, her lips tipped into an amused smile.
    “Well, Beth,” Henry said, one eyebrow cocked high, “the only way I see clear for that is if you continue doing both your own artwork and meet the demands of this construction company. To be honest, I’m not so sure you could handle all that on your own.”
    Beth sighed. “So what do I do?”
    Henry shrugged. “If you want it all, hire a full-time staff.”
    Slumping back in her chair, Beth swallowed the groan that pressed at her throat. A full-time staff. As if workers were lining up for jobs in this little Mennonite farming community! She knew of only one person willing to dedicate time to the art studio.
    It was back to Andrew.
***
    Andrew unplugged the soldering iron and rotated his head, trying to work loose the tense kinks in his neck. The acrid taste from the solder lingered on the back of his tongue, making him wish he had one of those bottles of water Beth liked to carry around with her. Placing the soldering iron on the concrete floor to cool, he turned back to the worktable.
    Satisfaction welled, bringing a tired smile to his face. It had been a hard eight hours of steady work, but seeing the suncatchers lined up, ready for the craft show, made it worthwhile. Hopefully this would make up for this afternoon, when