Page 94 of The Summer We Mended
At the back table, Blaze was helping two boys smooth out their pinch pots.His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his hands were a mess of gray clay as he knelt beside them, showing them how to keep the walls even.
“If you make it too thin here,” he told them, pointing to one pot’s rim, “it might collapse in the kiln.But you can thicken it up, just like this.”
He showed them with his hands, expertly pinching and blending clay, and the boys watched, eyes wide.Blaze glanced up at his grandma, then gave her a little thumbs-up.Warmth blossomed in her chest.
It was hard to believe that just a few months ago, the idea of opening this studio to the community felt impossible.Too much pain.Too many memories.But today, watching her family fill the space with joy and purpose, Lily felt a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.
At the far end of the room, June’s laughter rang out like a bell.
“No, no, no, Dad, you’re flinging clay at me again!”she said, laughing as a small glob splattered on her apron.
“That was totally an accident.”Tom grinned from the next wheel over, clearly not sorry at all.
Their wheels were side by side, and between them sat a collection of squashed attempts at bowls and cups.None quite symmetrical, but all full of effort.
“I think mine looks like a flowerpot that melted,” June said, holding it up.
“It’s abstract art,” Tom replied.“We’re ahead of our time.”
Lily chuckled softly, watching the two of them.She was so glad June had come this morning.It wasn’t always easy to get someone new to join group activities.She knew June was struggling with her divorce, but right now, it was hard to see that because she lit up the room with her smile.Her dad, with his easy humor, was good for her.The two of them balanced each other like warm and cool tones on a canvas.
Near the windows, Claudia was guiding a little girl named Ellie in rolling out a coil pot.Claudia’s fingers were swift and gentle, and her tone soft, as she told Ellie a story about the first mug she ever made.Lily caught just a few words, something about a handle that looked like a giraffe’s neck, and Ellie burst into giggles.
Cody stood nearby, overseeing cleanup at one of the supply stations, carefully helping kids rinse their tools in the big metal sink.He was patient, methodical, and, Lily noted with a smirk, doing his best to avoid getting water on his sneakers.
“I’m glad you’re here, Cody,” Lily said as she leaned into him with a side hug.
“Me too, Mom.I’m glad you’re back to doing these classes.”
She nodded and smiled before she moved to another corner of the room to watch everyone in action.
Margot, meanwhile, had taken up residence at the glazing table, where a few early finishers were already painting their creations from last week.She offered advice like a seasoned coach: “Too much glaze and it’ll drip, but just enough and it’ll shine like glass.”She passed out brushes with a smile and had a knack for knowing exactly when to lean in and when to let the kids lead.
Lily walked slowly to the center of the studio, heart full.This was what she had dreamed of, without even realizing it.Her hands tingled with memory, her chest warm with emotion.She turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
There was music playing low in the background, an old playlist David had made for her years ago, full of acoustic guitar and soft harmonies.A song she hadn’t heard in ages drifted through the speakers, and it felt like a whisper from the past.
David would have loved this.
She could almost see him leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, smiling that slow, crooked smile.His voice filled her mind like an echo wrapped in sunlight.
“This is what this space was meant for, Lil.It was meant to be shared, for you to share your gift and your love with the world.”
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t blink them away.She let them sit there, warm and real.She hugged her arms around herself, her chin tilting slightly toward the ceiling as if he might be watching from somewhere above.
She could almost feel him, his arms slipping around her from behind, pulling her into his chest like he used to.Her breath hitched softly, and she smiled, eyes still damp.
“I miss you,” she whispered under her breath.“But I’m okay.You were right.”
Someone tugged gently at her sleeve, breaking the moment.She looked down and found Maisie standing there, her tiny bowl in both hands, clay smudged across her cheek like a badge of honor.
“Aunt Lily,” she said, “can I make another one?For my grandma?”
Lily wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand and crouched beside her.“Of course you can, sweetheart.Let’s get you another hunk of clay.”
As she stood and led Maisie back to the clay table, Lily’s heart felt light, anchored in love rather than grief.She passed Blaze, who gave her a clay-splattered high-five.She passed Nora, who was now showing another child how to clean a wheel without getting sprayed.She passed Claudia, Margot, and Cody, all of them here, all of them helping, all of them family.
And she thought of what David might say now, seeing them all like this.
