Chapter 11

Eden was stacking the dinner plates in John and Shelley’s dishwasher when she read the text Steve sent her. She knew his dad had arrived in Sapphire Bay and that they were having dinner together. But she hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow.

Looking around the kitchen, she placed the last couple of cups in the dishwasher and added the detergent. If Steve wanted her to meet his dad at his workshop, something must have happened.

When Shelley came into the kitchen, Eden sent her an apologetic smile. “Steve’s texted me and wants to meet at his workshop. I won’t be able to watch the Netflix movie with you.”

Shelley took the lid off a jar of herbal tea bags and smiled. “That’s okay. John can keep me company. Is everything all right?”

“I’m not sure. Steve doesn’t spend much time with his dad, so he might need some backup.”

Shelley nodded. “We all need that. Take some of the chocolate chip cookies I made today. It’ll give me an excuse to bake more tomorrow.”

“Are you sure John won’t mind?”

Shelley took a container out of the cupboard and filled it with the delicious cookies. “John will thank you. He told me the other day that if I keep baking, he’ll be twenty pounds heavier by the time our baby’s born.”

Eden grinned and took the cookies. “In that case, thank you.”

“Do you know how to find his workshop?” Shelley asked.

Eden showed her the message. “He gave me directions. I didn’t know there were so many workshops in the old steamboat museum.”

“The building’s bigger than it looks. As well as all the workshops, there are storage rooms galore. You wouldn’t believe what people have kept in there over the years.”

Eden felt in her pockets for her car keys. “Mabel told me about the old dresser that belonged to the Terry family. They must’ve been shocked to find a letter written by Abraham Lincoln in one of the drawers.”

“It caused a huge stir and still does,” Shelley replied. “We get lots of people coming here to look at the replica dresser in The Lakeside Inn.”

Eden smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing Steve’s workshop even more now. The old museum sounds like an exciting place to explore.”

Shelley poured herself a glass of milk. “It is, but only if you enjoy getting covered in dust. Last time we sorted through a room, everyone was sneezing for days afterward.”

“That wouldn’t be enjoyable. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t said much about his sculptures.”

“That’s a male thing,” Shelley told her with a grin. “If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t let many people see what he’s doing. You must be special.”

Eden blushed. She hoped that was the case, but it probably had more to do with his relationship with his dad. “I’d better get going. Enjoy your movie.”

“I will, but I’m not sure about John. Say hi to Steve from me.”

With her keys and wallet in her pocket, Eden said goodbye to Shelley and opened the back door. Steve had told her a lot about his dad. If hewas being as difficult as he sounded, it was no wonder Steve needed a distraction.

As they arrivedat the old steamboat museum, Steve felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. The drive here had been awkward. His dad had high expectations about what Steve should be doing with his life and nothing he said made any difference.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked a side door and walked into his workshop. This was Steve’s safe place, the one area where nothing outside these walls could touch him.

His dad stopped in front of a metal sculpture called Resonance of Steel. Rising from a sturdy base, a series of intertwined steel rods spiraled upward. From the deceptively simple design, Steve wanted to capture the essence of movement and sound. At various points along the rods, he’d attached small, reflective steel discs. They caught the light and shimmered as if resonating with an unseen frequency.

Trevor studied the sculpture. “This is impressive. How long has it taken you to make?”

Steve stood beside his dad. “From when I drew the draft design, about six months. It still needs a little work, but I’m hoping it’ll be finished in another couple of weeks.”

Trevor looked around the workshop. “Other people must enjoy your sculptures to have this many in your workshop.”

Steve nodded. “My agent handles all the commission pieces. No one outside of Sapphire Bay knows I’m doing this. I’m happy keeping a low profile.”

Trevor grunted, his expression skeptical. “That’s all well and good, but don’t you think it’s time you did something more... substantial with your life? Living in a small house, working on the tiny homes, and building these sculptures won’t pay your rent or your other bills.”

The familiar pang of frustration and disappointment filled Steve’s heart. If his dad knew just how financially successful he was, he’d think differently about the life Steve had chosen. “I’m happy here, Dad. The tiny homes keep me involved in the community and make my time in my workshop more focused.”

Trevor shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “Art doesn’t pay the bills. You should think about your future, about something more stable.”

Steve ran his hand around the back of his neck. “I don’t want to argue with you, Dad. We don’t see each other very often and it’s your birthday. I’ve found what makes me happy. All I want is your support.”

His dad sighed. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“This is it,” Steve said softly. “I know it’s not want you’d choose, but I have wonderful friends and two jobs I enjoy.” Before his dad found something else to complain about, Steve showed him his sketchpad. “This is my next commission. It’s called Wrought Harmony.”

His dad studied the drawings. From the base, a series of wrought iron rods rose high into the air. They varied in thickness, some robust and sturdy, others slender and delicate. Between each rod, the copper orbs floated like notes from a sheet of music. The simplicity of the design created a flowing, intertwining structure that would look incredible.

Steve showed his dad one of the orbs. “I finished five of these earlier today. There’s still more to go, but I’m happy with how they turned out.” The thin copper wire, coiled into loosely woven balls, was perfect against the dense blackness of the steel.

His dad held the orb, then looked back at the design. “It’s an impressive piece. How high is it?”

Steve turned the page to show his dad the dimensions. “This is the sculpture I was telling you about at dinner. It’ll stand fifteen feet high.”

His dad moved closer to the drawings. When he saw the site plan, his eyes widened. “It’s going in someone’s garden?”

Steve nodded. A very rich someone who was a respected collector of high-value art. “It’ll take center stage in a garden that’s been designed for the sculpture.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Trevor muttered. “Whoever’s bought it must have more money than sense.”

Before Steve could answer, the door to his workshop opened and Eden walked into the room.

She smiled at his dad before focusing on Rex. He bounded happily toward her, only stopping when she kneeled on the floor to give him a big hug. “How are you, boy?”

“Happy now you’re here,” Steve told her gratefully. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’ll accept any invitation to see your workshop.” She stood and held out her hand to his dad. “I’m Eden, a friend of Steve’s. It’s nice to meet you.”

Trevor shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Eden looked at the sculpture they were standing in front of and smiled. “That’s incredible. Isn’t Steve clever?”

Trevor nodded. “The sculptures are bigger than I imagined. Are you an artist, too?”

Eden shook her head. “I was a teacher in Boston before coming here.”

“Oh,” Trevor said. “What brought you to Sapphire Bay?”

“I needed a fresh start,” she explained. “Steve’s been a great help in making me feel welcome.”

As they chatted, Steve noticed how Eden helped ease some of the lingering tension. Her positive energy filled the workshop and made his dad’s less than enthusiastic responses easier to handle.

She joined them as they walked around the other pieces he was finishing.

“How many hours a week do you spend in your workshop?” Eden asked.

Steve picked up one of his tools and returned it to where it should have gone. “I try to be here for at least twenty-five hours a week. More if I have a piece I need to finish.”

Eden frowned. “I thought you worked full time on the tiny homes?”

“Not since I set up this workshop,” Steve told her.

As they stopped to discuss another sculpture, Steve glanced at his dad. He seemed more relaxed than he had when he arrived. Maybe tonight hadn’t been a complete disaster after all. Especially after seeing how much Eden enjoyed seeing his sculptures.