“You mean, outside, the wood sculpting?” Daisy asked.
“Yep. That’s what I want to do,” Bam said.
“Well, over there are the clipboards for each class. Put your name by the ones you want to do,” Daisy said. “And thank you, Uncle Bam.”
“You’re welcome, baby. I’m so proud of you.” He wandered over and started carefully printing his name on every single clipboard she had put out for prospective students to sign up on.
“You don’t have to take all the classes, Bam,” Everly called out.
“If I want to learn how to do it all, I do,” he answered without even looking up. “You should take some, too. What do you want to learn to do?”
“Honey, I’m teaching the metal sculpture classes.”
“I know.”
“If I see something I want to learn, I’ll sign up then.”
“Okay. Metal sculpture… where’s that one?” Bam asked, as he worked his way through the clip boards.
A couple of different people walked in and the clan dispersed as Daisy welcomed them and offered a tour of the place. And it was just the beginning. A steady stream of people arrived, with some of them actually signing up for classes before they left. The day went well, most people that came brought their kids, and it was easy to tell which of the kids were really excited about the idea of learning to create art. Some were clearly already advanced from the drawings she found in the kids’ room, and in the multi-purpose room, and that was wonderful. She couldn’t wait to be surrounded by others who were stirred by their creativity as she was whether they be kids or adults, but hopefully it would be both.
Around 5:30 that afternoon the crowd had dwindled, and most of the clan had returned home. Hellen and Lucien, and Brandt and Tempest, along with Delilah and Janie, had remained behind to help her clean up and put everything back to rights. Tempest sat beside the sign up table nibbling on what remained of the charcuterie board and hoarding the butter and bread board. Kaid and Bane were out back poking around the kiln and looking at all the equipment Daisy had managed toamass in the sculpting buildings as well. The sound of a car pulling in, got Daisy’s attention. “Probably Remi coming in late,” she said.
“I’d be surprised,” Hellen mumbled.
Daisy turned to look at Hellen. “Why? What’s wrong with Remi?”
“He’s just having a hard time,” Hellen admitted.
“Hard like?” Daisy pressed.
“He threw a couple of whiskey bottles through his front window. He’s been drunk pretty much on the regular since Bailey told him it was over and she wasn’t willing to build a life with somebody that would always be tempted by his true mate.”
“Whiskey bottles?” Daisy asked, disbelievingly.
“Yep. One of them empty, the other full.”
“Has anyone checked on him?” Daisy asked.
“Oh, yeah. We check on him regularly. He’s a mean drunk. Did anybody know that?” Brandt asked.
“I wouldn’t say mean, I’d say surly,” Hellen added.
“What’s the difference?” Lucien asked.
“One’s had their heart broken and reacting to it, the other is just mean because they’re mean,” Hellen clarified.
“How do you know he’s not just mean? Maybe it’s been hidden deep inside his whole life,” Lucien said.
Hellen laughed, then scoffed at Lucien. “You’re meaner than he is. I’m meaner than Remi is. He’s just hurting.”
“Bailey know she hurt him?” Daisy asked.
“She does. And she’s suffering, too. Badly. But she’s made the only decision she could,” Tempest said.
“How’s that?” Daisy asked.
“Remi couldn’t win. If he chose Cristie, he lost Bailey, who he’d fallen in love with and broke her heart. If he chose Bailey, he’d hurt Cristie, his true mate and also his best friend since childhood. No matter what he did, he hurt someone he loved.Bailey took that decision out of his hands so he wouldn’t be responsible for hurting anybody. From what I understand he was already drinking when she arrived to talk to him. He just got worse after she left,” Tempest explained.
