“Is there anything you really want in life but you’re not telling me about? We can still be together even if you don’t want to make toys and would prefer a different job. I just don’t want you to wake up a year from now, or five, and realize you’re miserableand absolutely sick of dolls. I’m not going to be like Trig and keep you trapped with me and pretend you’re too dumb to go out and do what you like.”
Kit swung his legs. “I mean, I’ve kind of had an idea. I wouldn’t say it’s a goal, and I only thought of it in the past few months. I’m not sure if I can do it.”
“Tell me.”
“I like drawing, and you did say my style would be good for children’s books. I’m not sure how to make a kid’s book, and my drawing might not be good enough. You like my doodles. Others might not.”
Riju shifted a bit to face him more. “If you made a couple of small picture books, you could let kids here look at them and see what they think. I bet kids would love them. You like drawing, right?”
“Yeah.” Kit didn’t feel like his art was too crummy to do for fun anymore, so even if nobody liked his picture books, he’d still draw for fun.
“It could be something to turn into money. Or you could do it simply because it makes you happy. If you want to try making books, give it a go. Maybe you’ll find it’s fulfilling for you.”
Kit had never imagined doing anything art-related before. What if Riju was right and he could share his drawings with others? “Maybe I will try a few picture books and see if kids like them. I still want to help you make toys. Just because it wasn’t my dream before doesn’t mean I don’t like it now.”
***
The next few weeks were busy. Riju had pretty much ignored Trig’s rooms beyond taking the bedding and his dirty clothes to be washed. He finally packed up his personal possessions and paid a carter to take them to the prison. When Trig got out of prison later, his stuff would be in storage, and he could dealwith it himself. He had his own account, so hopefully, he’d leave Raven’s Landing, and they’d never have to look at him again.
To Kit, Riju seemed lighter in a way with Trig’s stuff gone.
In the evenings, they went to their future shop and home. They cleaned and aired it out. Over the weekend, they painted every room. Kit had never known painting walls could be such hard work. He volunteered to do the clouds, and standing on a ladder while looking up and doing large ones made his arms and neck tired.
It was worth it. Once it was finished, they loved the way the blue and puffy clouds overhead made the room seem brighter and bigger.
A carpenter fixed a few boards and a window frame that had jammed. Riju found dark green rugs secondhand to cover up a few floor discolorations. To Kit, it kind of gave the main room the appearance of having grass.
They had to hire a carter to help them take things over, and they set up shelves in the shop. The windows, which they’d covered with sheets to hide the temporary disarray inside, would be the last thing set up.
Kit loved the little table Riju had made. It came with chairs suitable for small children and was painted a soft green. Riju sat dolls at the table and put a checkerboard in the middle. Kit had painted the circular pieces with various happy faces. He’d never seen anything like it before, and without Trig, Riju had grown more open about sharing ideas he’d thought of over the years.
They even had a dollhouse in the corner, and it was fully furnished. Kit had particularly enjoyed helping Riju make it.
“Toys for toys,” Kit said as they set up a shelf with an assortment of items to buy for a doll, including tiny dolls that were about the size of his pinky finger. “When I was a kid, I had a chipped wooden soldier, and I felt lucky to have a scrap of cloth to tie around his neck for a cloak. A wooden horse for him to ridewas a dream, and if I’d asked my Mother to buy me a toy mask for him to wear, Father would have slapped me upside my head.”
“You said he drank, and he sold you for a few coins so he could drink more. Who cares what he thinks?”
“I don’t. I’m just saying. I think someone’s going to copy you.”
Riju stretched. “Is that bad?”
“Not exactly. You’ve got all kinds of ideas. Whoever heard of a chessboard where the pieces have faces on them?”
“Someone decided to collect words and make a book. And then another person did it too. Everything we do has mostly been done by another in a fashion.”
Kit glanced at the shelf. “I’ve never heard of little masks and dolls for your doll. Maybe you’re not the first one to do it, but it’ll seem brand new to the people around here since nobody else has a place like this. You’re creative, and you thought of a way to turn little scraps of wood into something a kid might love to have. They are also not expensive, so parents might not mind buying their kid doll accessories once in a while or children with pocket money will buy things. You found a way to make kids happy and keep their parents coming back. Someone else might want to do it too because they’ll think you’re brilliant.”
Riju stared at the shelf. “No one’s ever called me brilliant.”
“You are.”
Riju looked at him. “It’s odd for someone to believe I can do this besides me. Nice, but odd. Not a lot of people have believed in me for a long time.”
Kit grinned and took his hand. “I believe in you.”
“I know you do. I’m just not fully used to it.” He paused. “Do you want to see my tattoos?”
Kit blinked. “What?”
