He squinted in her direction, then lifted a hand in greeting. “I guess you found me.”
“Luke!” Leah held out her arm to the view. “This place. It’s unbelievable.”
“Sorry I didn’t hear you.” He nodded to the boathouse. “I was working. What brings you by?”
“I brought you something.” Leah walked over, the golden light of late day spilling across the grass at such an angle everything seemed to shimmer. She handed him the envelope with the check.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here for this.”
“It wasn’t that far.” Leah shifted uncomfortably. Was that code for he didn’t want her here? “You more than earned it.”
He tucked the envelope in his back pocket without opening it. “How’d the studio night go?” he asked.
“Really well. I couldn’t have pulled it off without your help. Thank you, again, Luke.”
“I’m glad it worked out.” Luke’s jeans and shirt were sprinkled in a film of sawdust that took on a golden hue in the sun. Leah noticed a fleck of dust on his cheek and without thinking she reached out to brush it away.
“Sorry,” she said, laughing shyly. “You had a speck of sawdust on your cheek.”
“Kind of comes with the territory.” At least he was smiling.
“So, can I see what you’re working on? Since I cameall the way out here.”
Luke hesitated, as if he were weighing options, but gave in. “Alright. Follow me.”
A sign hung over the door, not unlike the one he’d made for her shop:Saltwater Woodworks. “So you operate your business out of this old boathouse?” she asked. It was large enough to house two midsize Boston Whalers, she guessed.
“I have everything I need here.” The boathouse interior was an open-space workshop smelling pleasantly of freshly cut wood. The floor was a basic concrete slab and the walls were rough-hewn wood, not unlike an old New England barn. Heavy workbenches ran along the walls. In the corner sat a squat cast-iron stove, which she imagined heated the place in winter. There were table saws and sanders as well as all kinds of industrial woodworking machinery Leah did not recognize.
“Wow, Santa’s workshop has got nothing on this place.” She stopped by a large machine holding a delicate piece of turned wood. “What’s this?”
“That’s a lathe,” Luke said. “I use it to create custom architectural pieces like pedestals, columns, drawer pulls, that kind of thing.” He adjusted the mechanism and removed the sculpted piece of wood, handing it to her.
“You made this with that machine?” The symmetry and ornamentation were intricate.
“That’s a column. I’m installing it at the base of a cupboard in a kitchen, so it looks like a built-in piece of furniture.”
Leah rolled the smooth wood piece in her hands,appreciating the weight and design. She lifted it to her nose. “I love the smell of fresh-cut wood. It makes me think of new beginnings.”
Luke said nothing, but for the first time since the night at the beach his eyes twinkled appreciatively.
Luke explained things as Leah took her time moving through the workshop, running her hand across a plank of dark wood: “That’s cherry.” Squinting at a set of drawings tacked to a wall: “Design layout for a kitchen.” Tracing the swirling pattern of a honey-colored tabletop: “That’s bird’s-eye maple.”
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, leaning in. “It reminds me of the pattern at the edge of the shoreline. You know the way the waves swirl the sand around?”
Luke nodded reverently. She was speaking his language. “Like ripples.”
“This is a pretty special place,” she told him, when she finished her little self-guided tour. It was an immersion in color, texture, and pattern. Standing in the boathouse with the doors thrown open to the elements, Leah could feel the connection to Luke and his work, and talking about it with him made her feel a glimmer of connection between them once more.
“Luke, about last Friday night,” she began, gently, “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
His eyes swung to hers. “Leah. There’s no need to revisit it.”
It was obvious he did not want to discuss it, but she was keen to explain herself because the strange formality between them wasn’t what she’d intended.
“I know I asked for space, but suddenly there’s so much ofit.” When he didn’t say anything, she went on, “You used to be around all the time at the shop, and now you’re not. I guess I miss the friendship.”
“Jobs like that require people to work closely. There’s a beginning and an end.” He paused. “Kind of like one of your books.”
