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“It is fast, but I’m not letting that stop me. I’m sure we’ll hit bumps along the way, but I’m just as sure we’ll both do everything we can to make it a soft landing for each other.”
It’s true, and I couldn’t ask for anything better.
16
Stef
“RemindmeagainwhyI’m driving?” I pull into the strip mall parking space and turn off the car.
Jules leans between the front seats and hugs me. “Because you love us?”
I squeeze his arm, which, pinned as I am from his hug, is all of him I’m able to reach. “True, I do, and you’re all exceedingly lucky that’s the case.” I glare at Erik in the rearview mirror, but there’s no real heat in it.
Astrid laughs and hops out of the passenger seat. “Because this is Jules’ and Erik’s bachelor party, so they can’t drive, and I convinced you that your car had the most room for Erik.”
“And yet I still had to wedge myself into the back.” Erik carefully unfolds himself from the car while Jules pretends to help by shoving him from the other side of the backseat. “How did that happen?”
Astrid’s halfway across the parking lot by the time I lock the car. “Because I’m tricky like that.”
Jules’ eyes are wide. “She’s magic.”
“She’s evil!” Erik shouts it to Astrid’s retreating back. The only response is her gleeful laughter.
By the time we enter the pottery painting studio, Astrid has wrangled us a table, and is already uncorking the bottle of Constellation Chardonnay from Jupiter Winery. I head to the desk to check in. “Welcome to Pot to Trot. I’m Cindy. Can I help you?” Cindy is a perky twenty-something with big blue eyes and blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. She has paint all over her hands and apron and a friendly expression that seems genuine. The tag on her shirt is a paint palette, with her name in flowing purple script and ‘she/her’ underneath. I love this place already.
“Hi, I’m Stef Evans, they/them, please. We have a reservation.”
She beams. “Thanks for sharing your pronouns, Stef. Have you all been here before?”
I shake my head. “We’ve been to other places like this, but not here. Are there any things we should know?”
“Probably not, but I’ll follow you to your table and give you all the five-cent tour.” We weave through groups of people painting everything from the usual plates and bowls to a young child painting a ceramic unicorn. I scan the shelves for where those might be hiding.
When we get to our table, the others are already sipping wine from the glasses Astrid unearthed from somewhere in her bag of tricks. A glass of sparkling water waits in front of the only empty seat. I grin at Astrid as Cindy goes through her spiel, pointing out the ceramics that are included in our base fee and the ones that cost a bit extra, how certain paints will change color once they’re fired in the kiln, and reminding us we’ll have to come back next week to pick up our fired pieces. “And if you need anything at all, please ask.” She wanders away, and we head to the shelves to find our projects for the evening.
It takes a bit of searching, but I find a unicorn statue and opt for a rainbow of pastel colors. When I get back to our table, Erik and Jules are each painting ginormous mugs, and Astrid has a dog bowl. I cock my head at her. “You don’t have a dog.”
She glances up from her project and grins. “It’s for Pita. I don’t need anything, Gary doesn’t have a lot of room in his RV for knickknacks, and this is functional. Bjorn can use it as an outside bowl for the pool. If it gets broken, no big deal.”
Except for possibly sharp pieces of ceramic and pup paws, but that’s for Bjorn to handle. “Fair. Butlookwhat I found!” I lift my unicorn triumphantly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Jules considers it and nods. “I thought you’d pick the mask.”
My head snaps in his direction. “Mask?”
He points to a shelf across the room. “Kind of like the ones you have in your room.”
“Oh! Now I’m torn.” I frown at my unicorn.
Erik pulls out my chair and points to it. “Sit. Paint your unicorn. You can always come back and paint the mask some other time.”
“True.” I plop into my seat, busying myself with arranging my brushes and paints to my liking, still pondering the ceramic mask. “Maybe I can get Blake to come with me.”
Jules snorts. “This doesn’t seem like Blake’s thing.”
“Trust me, that man is full of surprises.” I catch his eye and wink.
Astrid leans in, chin in hand. “Tell meeverything.”
