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I knew all along, pretty much from the moment they mentioned the driving time. They hadn’t blindfolded me until we’d gone north for more than three hours, and I’d suspected long before then. To be honest, there wasn’t all that much in this part of upstate New York worth driving that far.
“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
“There’s a tour starting at—”
“Forget the tour!” I cut Elliot off. “You haveme!I’m the best tour guide there is!”
I took each of their hands, and pulled them toward the front entrance. I was excited just seeing the building again. Like a kid being given his favorite old toy to play with. The very fact they knew I’d love this place meant the whole world to me. It filled me with a warmth that I knew would make the day legendary.
For the next several hours we toured the gargantuan facility, moving from exhibit to beautiful exhibit. There were glass sculptures of every size and shape imaginable, both traditional and contemporary. Clear pieces, colored pieces, pieces that hung by cables from the ceiling. Giant works of art fused from thousands of other tinier works, as well as abstract, more interpretative pieces that defied description.
The guys were of course awestruck by everything that could be done with glass, because until you saw it you really never knew. Seeing the surprised faces and watching them read the educational signs beneath the exhibits reminded me of the first time I’d come here. I’d already been close to master level by then, but even so I was blown away by the versatility and innovation I’d seen here, as well as inspired to all new levels of my own creativity.
Halfway through we stopped at the restaurant, which was a modernized cafeteria on the first floor. Semi-gourmet meals were cooked in front of you while you waited, and I ordered my favorite ones for them to try.
I took them through Crystal City, past the ancient and international displays that I’d been to so many times I stopped going. Finally I reached the Changing Exhibitions Gallery, where I gawked and geeked out over dozens of new pieces I’d never seen before.
“See that one?” I said, pointing out a trio of incredibly life-like glass birds, caught in the motion of flight. “A friend of mine did that. Her name’s Carla. She moved to the west coast last year, to study under Carol Milne.”
“Who’s Carol Milne?” the guys both said at once.
I sighed, smiling. “Ever watch baseball?”
“Of course,” Aiden replied.
“You asking me that question would be like me asking you ‘who’s Derek Jeter’.”
Elliot chuckled, apparently enjoying the analogy.
“She makes the most insane knitted glass art you ever saw.”
Aiden’s eyebrows came together skeptically. “You canknitglass?”
I sighed, somewhat jealous of all the things they had yet to experience but didn’t know. Most important to me was that they enjoyed themselves. Maybe not to the depth and extent thatIdid, but by the end of the day the two of them knew so much more about my passion.
“So this is what you aspire to?” Elliot asked, on the way out.
“You know it,” I said proudly.
“And what’s stopping you from having pieces here?”
I thought about the question and shrugged. “Experience. Materials. Furnace time. A combination of all three.”
I watched his eyes narrow in contemplation, as if making a list in his head. He was really listening. The way Connor had, in front of the Chihuly sculpture.
It made me fall that much more in love with him.
Inlovewith him?
I stopped short, causing the two of them to bump into me. Aiden tripped, pinwheeling a few wildly precarious steps before catching his footing again.
“Easy!” he cried, standing middle of the exhibition hall. People were staring at him now. “There’sglasseverywhere!”
I chuckled, watching him turn red. He lowered his voice.
“You can’t just stop short like that!” he hissed. “I’ll end up breaking some priceless sculpture!”
“Ohthey’llput a price to it if you break it,” I smirked. “Trust me on that one.”
