That got him a pair of rolled eyes. “He does all sorts of stuff, mostly pottery.”
“You watching the girls, I guess?”
Zane nodded again, and Ellis could hear Zane wondering whether or not he’d had a stroke or some such. “It’s good money really. We’re not doing anything more than what I’d be doing anyway. They’re not bad kids.” Then he shot Ellis a wicked smile. “Not like Michael.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, you know us cowboys.”
Ellis put the food into the fridge before heading back out, because the fact was, he was damn curious. There wasn’t any bad in spending a little time with Ichabod, right?
He got to the little studio and peeked his head in. “Casserole is in the fridge.”
“Cool, come in. and I’ll show you around.”
The room was…not dirty, but the clay left a gray sheen over everything. The studio was carefully arranged, with potting wheels along one side, big tables on the other, and racks and racks of brushes and bottles of dyes and paints at the front. The back was filled with huge shelves filled with vessels and all, and at the farthest end, with a locked door hiding it, was the kiln room. It amazed him. A huge face-looking thing sat on the worktable, its nose bulbous.
“This is pretty cool, man. What’s it going to be?”
“It’s a commission piece for a place in Aspen—a fancy doctor’s office. It’s always fun to do the commission pieces, I think, because it gives me the money to do bigger, more interesting art pieces. I don’t always know if they’re going to sell.”
“So, what about the vases and stuff, too?” He thought he’d seen giant vases going out one day.
Ichabod leaned against one of the big tables, and Ellis loved how relaxed he was in here, how at home. “I do like doing vessels. Quite a bit, actually. I also do hand sculptures. Art-wise, I do whatever I want to. I went an entire year where all I did was teeny tiny things.”
He tilted his head. “Teeny tiny things.”
The temptation to tease burned his tongue.
“Yeah. Honestly, that’s what I did. I did little bitty miniatures. That was all I wanted to do. They sold pretty good too, I have to say. I mean, they didn’t set the world on fire, but I had so much fun making them. It was when the kids were little and right after Chris had died, I couldn’t find the energy or the time to do anything big. So I made tons of tiny things.”
“Ouch. That had to be hard.” He didn’t know what else to say about the husband. He didn’t love to think about Ichabod with another man, which was stupid as fuck, and unreasonable, but there it was.
“Also, and I know that it’s kind of lowbrow, but I love making cups. I make cups for everybody in the family.”
Sure enough, Ichabod pointed to a drying shelf, and there were a line of six cups.
He frowned. “Who’s the sixth one for?” He felt jealousy in his chest, oddly enough, and he told himself to back the fuck off.
“Well, you, ofcourse.”
Ellis blinked at Ichabod. “Me?” That did things to his heart. And other parts he didn’t dare mention at the moment. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I figure you’re part of us, right? Part of the whole group. I try to make every one different and make them a little the same. I think about the person I’m making them for as I’m creating them.”
Lord. That was adorable. “I bet your kids have a lot of cups.”
That grin was wry as hell. “Fewer than you’d think. Dropping is a thing. Throwing periodically, especially with teenage boys, can be a thing. But yeah, everybody’s gonna end up with an entire set of dishes when they leave home. Heavy pottery dishes that they’ll probably hate, but I don’t care because I enjoy making them so much. This one’s yours.” Ichabod pointed to a cup.
It was a good size. And had a nice heft to it. It was wider on the bottom so it would be stable, he guessed. And there was a rising sun etched right in, and… “Is that Rio?”
“You know it.”
Right there on the side impressed into the clay with the thinnest of lines was Rio. His Rio. Damn, look at that. Well, now that was with the finest thing anybody had ever done for him. “I love it. Thank you. What color is it going to be?”
“I was thinking turquoise. And then of course, you know, Rio would be Rio-colored because that’s a thing.” Ichabod seemed so pleased, his cheeks pink, pretty blue eyes sparkling.
“That might be the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” Ellis said.
“I enjoy making them,” Ichabod repeated. “Besides I was thinking of making you another one that has Mavis on it.”
