Page 34 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

The honey-blond-haired woman skidded to a halt in front of her on the squishy ground and grinned. “Welcome! Happy first day!”

She couldn’t help chuckling. “Thanks. It’s great to be here.”

“Ellie was so excited she baked some kind of coffee cake,” Kathleen said, appearing in the open doorway in all black with a welder’s apron on. “No one’s died trying it yet.”

“Hey!” The eager woman punched her friend. “It’s pretty good. You’re welcome to have some. We have coffee. It’s not French—”

“It’s perfect,” Sophie said, stopping her and wondering why people kept comparing things like coffee and schools. She wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t about to look down on something just because it was different.

“Wait until you try it,” Kathleen drawled. “You might change your mind.”

“Honestly,” she said, taking Ellie’s hand. “I’m really touched by the welcome. I would have made chocolate chip cookies as a thank you for havingme, but we were out yesterday sightseeing, and I’m still a little shy in Jamie’s kitchen.”

The friends shared a look before Ellie nudged Kathleen, who sighed. “Don’t kill me and don’t answer if you don’t want to,” she said in adon’t shoot the messengertone.

“Okay…”

“Ellie wants me to ask if you were smiling as much as Jamie was after your date on Saturday.”

“He washumminghe was so happy,” Ellie gushed. “The guys said they’d never seen him so—”

“Oh…” She hadn’t expected hearing about his post-date mood from her new colleagues, but she went totally soft and had to wrestle for control of the silly smile taking hold of her mouth. “Yes. Yes, I was. Shall we have a little of that coffee cake? Then maybe you can give me a tour.”

People were clearly taking an interest in her and Jamie. She liked these women, but she didn’t want to spend her first morning at work dishing about her date. Growing up, her parents had always kept a distance between themselves and other artists. While she didn’t want that, she wasn’t comfortable with such intimacy so soon, and in her place of work. So she kept the discussion to the status of Kathleen’s massive metal sculpture in her new warehouse-sized shed and met the other workers on Kathleen’s team. Then, since she had asked to see her shed last, they toured the actual arts center.

Ellie bounced up and down in delight when Sophie praised her incredible stained glass window in the entry. They passed Angie’s classroom next, waving to her and her all-female painting class, and then visited the ceramics studio, warm from Megan’s kiln. After touring Ellie’s stained glass workspace, she finally headed out to look at her shed.

“I wasn’t here too long, but I loved it,” Kathleen told her as she shouldered open the heavy metal door and hit the overhead lights. “It’s going to be cold since the weather turned, but your kiln should change that in no time.”

“The kiln and I are about to become good friends,” Sophie told them as they walked into the large, airy space.

Glass artists didn’t work in luxurious spaces, another reason Sophie’s mother had never understood why she’d picked that medium. But the nature of the work demanded functionality. The floor and her workbench had to be fireproof, and the shed had to have a strong ventilation system. Her mother’s atelier in Paris had a purple couch and a wine chiller stocked with French champagne. Nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t Sophie’s thing.

“I’m totally going to geek out and ask you to show me all of your tools,” Ellie said with a hopeful smile. “I hope that’s okay. I’ll bake you more coffee cake for a demonstration once you’re up and running.”

“Shameless,” Kathleen said with a laugh, giving her friend a noogie, which made her shriek.

Sophie sent them an indulgent smile, enjoying their easy friendship. “First I’ll need to load batch into the tank and heat the furnace, or the melting kiln, as some call it. It will take about six days to heat it to the correct temperature.”

“How hot are we talking?” Kathleen asked as they wandered closer, all business now.

“The furnace runs twenty-four seven and stays between 2000 and 2400 degrees Fahrenheit. If it ever goes out, I’m out of commission for a few weeks, which is why I asked for a state-of-the-art generator.”

“With Irish weather, that’s a good plan,” Ellie said, her eyes roving. “Out of commission would suck.”

“Yes. I had it happen once when I was doing a demo in New Orleans. I’ve insisted on a generator ever since.”

“What kind of glass do you use?” Kathleen asked. “I’m a total novice there.”

She pointed to the bags beside the furnace, excitement coursing through her at the sight. “I use spruce pine batch for clear 96, and all the color blowing glasses: Reichenbach, Zimmerman, and Gaffer Kugler.”

“And the other kiln?” Ellie asked.

She looked over at her new baby. “That’s the reheating kiln—”

“Because the glass cools quickly,” Kathleen said. “Not as quickly as metal I think, but don’t quote me.”

“We could do an experiment sometime to see,” Sophie said, waggling her brows. “For the kids in the new arts program.”

---