“Thank you, sweetie.” She kissed his cheek. “Allie, do you want to tear bread?”
She nodded, obviously a little unnerved. His little girl was so sensitive.
So, he made sure to smile and say, “You are the best tearer of bread, you know.”
That made her grin, and she bounced over. “I like to tear things up. I tear paper up sometimes, and I get in trouble at school.”
“You know that art that’s made with torn paper is called Chigiri-e? It’s very old from Japan, and when I say very old, I mean thousands of years old. How cool is that?” Mom did love her esoteric art knowledge, and she loved sharing it best of all.
“There’s also quilling,” Ichabod put in. “It’s made by cutting or tearing up paper and curling it.”
“Neat!” Allie started shredding bread with a single-minded intensity.
“How’s the new studio working out for you?” Mom asked.
Ichabod bounced on his toes, excitement filling him. At some point the studio would be passé, but not today. “It’s amazing. I can’t wait to show it off. It’s big, it’s got everything I need, Ellis rewired everything for me, and it’s perfect. I’ve been doing some good work.”
Allie paused in her tearing. “Me too, Granny. I have been in there. I made cups.”
“Have you now?” Mom seemed so pleased. Her smilefinally warmed up a bit. “Did you make it on the wheel or did you use coil or slab?”
Allie blinked. “Throwing, of course. I’ve been throwing since I was little.”
He met Mom’s eyes, and they both didn’t smile. Because, you know, six? Six wasold.
“I think that’s amazing. How about Chrissy? Is she throwing yet?”
Ichabod chuckled. “Believe it or not, Mom, she is. I put her on the little practice wheel and sit with her. She’s not strong enough to do a lot of the things, but she’s getting it. She’s starting to get it.”
He believed that all the kids should be able to throw pots, and even Zane was super capable of forming pretty much any kind of vessel he wanted.
“Oh, good for her.” Mom nodded. “I love that.”
Ichabod fought, again, not to feel like a dick because he wanted her once to say good for him for being a good parent, but she followed the my-kids-were-one-thing-but-I-spoil-my-grandkids-to-death philosophy.
Ellis came wandering in, sniffing the air. “Smells great in here, Ichabod. Love it. Anything I can do? Your Pop and Michael are with Chrissy.”
“I am tearing up bread because I am the best at it. Daddy said so.”
“Rock on, rock lobster.” Ellis winked at her, and she scrunched her face up and closed both of her eyes in her own version of a wink.
Ellis winked back.
“So, Ellis. Are you from Aspen?”
“No, originally I’m from the Front Range, but I’ve been here a number of times, and this is one of my favorite places on earth.”
“Oh, I love it too. It’s so chilly.” His mom waved her handin the air in a breezy sort of manner, which made him grit his teeth.
“I think it’s pretty,” Allie stated.
“Do you think it’s nice out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s not nowhere. We go to school. I have friends. I had Girl Scouts and dance and gymnastics.” Allie nodded as if that was that. And maybe it was. She hadn’t done anything different in the city.
“What do you think, Zane?” Mom asked when Zane came in to grab another cold water out of the fridge.
Zane stared at her, then gave Ichabod a glance as if to say,“How good do I need to be?”
