doing for his dad. Not everyone could do it and many wouldn’t if they had a career like his. Unconsciously, my hand moved across the small table and took his in mine to comfort him, which made him stop attacking the poor paper napkin that his cutlery had rested on. He looked up at me, and I wondered if I’d ever be immune to his eyes.
“Mara, I . . .”
“Chicken Shish for each of you. I’ll bring your drinks over now.” Like that, the moment was broken, and I was glad. I was slowly but surely being sucked in to this man, and it would never have a happy ending. Jace seemed to understand and changed the subject.
“Enough about me. What about you? Lana told me that your parents died in a crash when you were all babies.” I whipped my hand back as if he’d burned me. I don’t know why, but it just felt like he’d chucked a bucket of cold ice water over my head.
“My sisters were babies. I was six; I remember them.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Mara. I didn’t mean to bring up horrible memories for you.”
“It’s OK. Can we talk about something else though? Please?”
“Of course. Um. Why architecture?” It’s not his fault that in asking that question he hadn’t strayed far enough away from the subject.
“My dad.” His face drained of color. “Don’t worry; there was no way you could know.”
“You don’t have to talk about that either if you don’t want to.”
“No, really, it’s okay.” I took a gulp of my coke before I started. “My dad used to be a furniture maker. Original pieces that were hand crafted. On weekends, he used to take me to his shop to see his new pieces. It was our special time, and I loved it. When I was at home, I used to draw the kinds of house that I thought his furniture should live in.
“He said I had a gift, and one day I’d design houses that would make happy homes for people.” I laughed humorlessly. “Of course, at that age, I didn’t understand that a pretty house didn’t make a happy home. So, I guess I’ve always known what I was going to do with my life. I design pretty homes that make people smile.”
“The houses you design are not just pretty. They’re amazing. When Lana told me that you designed houses, I didn’t just take her word for it. I did some research, and I knew when I saw the pictures of your work that no one else was going to be able to design what I wanted. I get that it’s a bit out there for you, but I know that you’re going to give me something perfect.”
I smiled and concentrated on my plate. I knew my work was good, but it was still a little embarrassing to hear someone praise me to my face.
“Lana said that you’ve designed your own house, but you live in an apartment. What’s that about?”
I rolled my eyes. One day I’m going to gag my sister. “Lana talks too much. Yes, I’ve designed my own house. I have a plot that’s not too far from here. Building a business while saving for construction and contingency costs is taking some time. It has also taken longer because I’ve put money away for a rainy day for me and the rest of my family.”
“You save for your family as well? Wow. I don’t know anyone who does that or would even think of doing that. You’re incredible; do you know that?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to do with another compliment.
We ate for a while in comfortable silence before talking about other things including our years at school. As predicted, Jace had been a troublemaker, yet he still managed to get decent grades at school and excelled at Art and Math, which was a funny combination.
He said it was no surprise that I was an A student, but he was surprised that Lana had been as well. Generally, we had very little in common. I liked documentaries and autobiographies whereas Jace liked comedies and action. I liked classical and jazz music, he on the other hand loved rock, and dare I say it . . . country music. Whatever attraction I had to Jace did not diminish because of
“Mara, I . . .”
“Chicken Shish for each of you. I’ll bring your drinks over now.” Like that, the moment was broken, and I was glad. I was slowly but surely being sucked in to this man, and it would never have a happy ending. Jace seemed to understand and changed the subject.
“Enough about me. What about you? Lana told me that your parents died in a crash when you were all babies.” I whipped my hand back as if he’d burned me. I don’t know why, but it just felt like he’d chucked a bucket of cold ice water over my head.
“My sisters were babies. I was six; I remember them.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Mara. I didn’t mean to bring up horrible memories for you.”
“It’s OK. Can we talk about something else though? Please?”
“Of course. Um. Why architecture?” It’s not his fault that in asking that question he hadn’t strayed far enough away from the subject.
“My dad.” His face drained of color. “Don’t worry; there was no way you could know.”
“You don’t have to talk about that either if you don’t want to.”
“No, really, it’s okay.” I took a gulp of my coke before I started. “My dad used to be a furniture maker. Original pieces that were hand crafted. On weekends, he used to take me to his shop to see his new pieces. It was our special time, and I loved it. When I was at home, I used to draw the kinds of house that I thought his furniture should live in.
“He said I had a gift, and one day I’d design houses that would make happy homes for people.” I laughed humorlessly. “Of course, at that age, I didn’t understand that a pretty house didn’t make a happy home. So, I guess I’ve always known what I was going to do with my life. I design pretty homes that make people smile.”
“The houses you design are not just pretty. They’re amazing. When Lana told me that you designed houses, I didn’t just take her word for it. I did some research, and I knew when I saw the pictures of your work that no one else was going to be able to design what I wanted. I get that it’s a bit out there for you, but I know that you’re going to give me something perfect.”
I smiled and concentrated on my plate. I knew my work was good, but it was still a little embarrassing to hear someone praise me to my face.
“Lana said that you’ve designed your own house, but you live in an apartment. What’s that about?”
I rolled my eyes. One day I’m going to gag my sister. “Lana talks too much. Yes, I’ve designed my own house. I have a plot that’s not too far from here. Building a business while saving for construction and contingency costs is taking some time. It has also taken longer because I’ve put money away for a rainy day for me and the rest of my family.”
“You save for your family as well? Wow. I don’t know anyone who does that or would even think of doing that. You’re incredible; do you know that?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to do with another compliment.
We ate for a while in comfortable silence before talking about other things including our years at school. As predicted, Jace had been a troublemaker, yet he still managed to get decent grades at school and excelled at Art and Math, which was a funny combination.
He said it was no surprise that I was an A student, but he was surprised that Lana had been as well. Generally, we had very little in common. I liked documentaries and autobiographies whereas Jace liked comedies and action. I liked classical and jazz music, he on the other hand loved rock, and dare I say it . . . country music. Whatever attraction I had to Jace did not diminish because of
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