The Mane Squeeze
Page 74
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It took her a moment to understand him. You dont sell your work? At all?
No.
Why? What are you waiting for?
He shrugged. Im waiting for it to bebetter.
Better? Wow. The man had higher standards than she realized. Lock, I mean this in the nicest way possible, butyoure an idiot.
How do you mean that in the nicest way possible? Lock demanded, never knowing which direction Gwen would come from.
I mean, youre an idiot if youre not selling this stuff. And I dont mean at yard sales. Im talking about selling it to a furniture specialist shop. Where rich people go. You want rich people to buy your shit because they tell their rich friends and they tell their rich friends and on and on.
None of these are ready for sale, he argued. These are all justdrafts.
Drafts?
Right. Because Im still learning.
Okay. So youre saying everything isnt perfect yet.
It doesnt need to be perfect. Just as close as humanly possible. But I have to be comfortable getting money for it.
Fair enough. She pointed at the dining table. So what needs work on this?
Lock walked over and refreshed his memory on the dining table hed made a year ago. Umthis. He crouched down and pointed. See those crossrails? Theyre slightlyoff.
Off?
Uh-huh. He stood up. Ill make another one and try and fix that.
Right. Okay. And you said you had to take care of something here, right? What was that?
Since my uncles goaded me into coming here, I figured I could grab a chair I made for Jess, and we could drop it off at her place. If I give her the chair now, she cant guilt me into going to her baby shower laterand shell try. Oh, she would try.
Can I see the chair?
Sure. He walked her over to the chair and took off the drop cloth he kept over it to protect the wood.
Gwen studied it for several long moments before she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
Was it the Viking runes? he asked, wincing. Too much? I wouldnt put it on anyone elses chair, but this is Jess and shes
Youre not charging for this? Gwen cut in.
No. He looked at the rocking chair, admiring the lines but easily spotting all the flaws. I made it as a gift.
Lets say you didnt make it for a gift, but you simply made it. Would you sell it then?
Lock frowned. Probably not.
Another crossrail problem?
Lock laughed. No. Not this time. Its justIm not real happy with this joint. Right here.
She nodded. Is that a problem that would have Jess falling on her ass when the chair broke?
Insulted, Lock said, Of course not. Id never give her anything that wasnt absolutely sturdy and reliable.
So itll last, lets say, a hundred years or so?
More than that, I hope. And it can handle at least fifteen hundred pounds. He knew this because hed sat in it as bear. If it could handle his weight, it could handle a pregnant little wild dog.
Abruptly, Gwen paced away from him.
What? he asked, already planning to start a new chair for Jess tomorrow. Is it that bad?
No, Lock. Its perfect. She whirled on him again, but he was glad she didnt do that 180-degree thing with her head instead. But, hon, I was rightyoure an idiot.
Why am I an idiot?
Youre an idiot because youre not selling this.
Its a gift.
Not the chair, you mongrel. Im talking about all of it. You have a fortune sitting here.
No, he said, even as his pulse raced. Its not
What? Perfect? Art is supposed to have imperfections. Thats what makes great art. She stopped, blinking in surprise. I cant believe I remembered that from Sister Anns stupid art history class. And let me tell yanot exactly an A student with her.
Not a big art history fan?
Not a big fan of Sister Ann. She was the one who started all the nuns and Father Francis calling me the devils whore and Blayne the devils whores lackey, which did nothing but hurt Blaynes feelings.
As always, amused by Gwens random comments, Lock smiled as he reached down to lift up the chair he would be giving Jess, but Gwen placed her hand on the seat, halting him.
Wait.
He looked up at her.
Are you telling Jess you made this?
Immediately, Lock shook his head at the uncomfortable thought. No.
Why not?
I dont want to.
Dont be silly. Shell appreciate it more if you tell her.
I dont want to tell her.
So youll lie to her.
I wont have to lie to her. She never asks, so theres nothing to admit to.
No.
Why? What are you waiting for?
He shrugged. Im waiting for it to bebetter.
Better? Wow. The man had higher standards than she realized. Lock, I mean this in the nicest way possible, butyoure an idiot.
How do you mean that in the nicest way possible? Lock demanded, never knowing which direction Gwen would come from.
I mean, youre an idiot if youre not selling this stuff. And I dont mean at yard sales. Im talking about selling it to a furniture specialist shop. Where rich people go. You want rich people to buy your shit because they tell their rich friends and they tell their rich friends and on and on.
None of these are ready for sale, he argued. These are all justdrafts.
Drafts?
Right. Because Im still learning.
Okay. So youre saying everything isnt perfect yet.
It doesnt need to be perfect. Just as close as humanly possible. But I have to be comfortable getting money for it.
Fair enough. She pointed at the dining table. So what needs work on this?
Lock walked over and refreshed his memory on the dining table hed made a year ago. Umthis. He crouched down and pointed. See those crossrails? Theyre slightlyoff.
Off?
Uh-huh. He stood up. Ill make another one and try and fix that.
Right. Okay. And you said you had to take care of something here, right? What was that?
Since my uncles goaded me into coming here, I figured I could grab a chair I made for Jess, and we could drop it off at her place. If I give her the chair now, she cant guilt me into going to her baby shower laterand shell try. Oh, she would try.
Can I see the chair?
Sure. He walked her over to the chair and took off the drop cloth he kept over it to protect the wood.
Gwen studied it for several long moments before she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
Was it the Viking runes? he asked, wincing. Too much? I wouldnt put it on anyone elses chair, but this is Jess and shes
Youre not charging for this? Gwen cut in.
No. He looked at the rocking chair, admiring the lines but easily spotting all the flaws. I made it as a gift.
Lets say you didnt make it for a gift, but you simply made it. Would you sell it then?
Lock frowned. Probably not.
Another crossrail problem?
Lock laughed. No. Not this time. Its justIm not real happy with this joint. Right here.
She nodded. Is that a problem that would have Jess falling on her ass when the chair broke?
Insulted, Lock said, Of course not. Id never give her anything that wasnt absolutely sturdy and reliable.
So itll last, lets say, a hundred years or so?
More than that, I hope. And it can handle at least fifteen hundred pounds. He knew this because hed sat in it as bear. If it could handle his weight, it could handle a pregnant little wild dog.
Abruptly, Gwen paced away from him.
What? he asked, already planning to start a new chair for Jess tomorrow. Is it that bad?
No, Lock. Its perfect. She whirled on him again, but he was glad she didnt do that 180-degree thing with her head instead. But, hon, I was rightyoure an idiot.
Why am I an idiot?
Youre an idiot because youre not selling this.
Its a gift.
Not the chair, you mongrel. Im talking about all of it. You have a fortune sitting here.
No, he said, even as his pulse raced. Its not
What? Perfect? Art is supposed to have imperfections. Thats what makes great art. She stopped, blinking in surprise. I cant believe I remembered that from Sister Anns stupid art history class. And let me tell yanot exactly an A student with her.
Not a big art history fan?
Not a big fan of Sister Ann. She was the one who started all the nuns and Father Francis calling me the devils whore and Blayne the devils whores lackey, which did nothing but hurt Blaynes feelings.
As always, amused by Gwens random comments, Lock smiled as he reached down to lift up the chair he would be giving Jess, but Gwen placed her hand on the seat, halting him.
Wait.
He looked up at her.
Are you telling Jess you made this?
Immediately, Lock shook his head at the uncomfortable thought. No.
Why not?
I dont want to.
Dont be silly. Shell appreciate it more if you tell her.
I dont want to tell her.
So youll lie to her.
I wont have to lie to her. She never asks, so theres nothing to admit to.
