Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“It’s my job,” he replies, shrugging.

“I know that, but I also know that you tried to speed things up and fit me in because of who I am.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I narrow my eyes at him and he chuckles. “I… Alright, you caught me. I had to do whatever I could, for old times’ sake. It’s been nice to see you again, and you look a lot happier now.”

“I think I am.” I smile at my statement; I think I finally am.

“That’s great to hear.” He pauses for a second. “I need to get to a meeting, but if you ever need anything, you let me know.” I tense as he gives me a quick hug and clears his throat.

“Thanks, you too. Take care, Nate.”

He returns the sentiment and turns on his heels, leaving me to walk out of the building and to my car.

When I get to the studio, Mom’s already here, setting up for the session. I can’t help but grin at the questioning look on her face. She beams back at me, knowing what I’m saying without having to speak and pulls me in for a hug.

“So, that’s it?” she asks as we wait for the kids to start arriving.

“Pretty much, I need my certificate for it to be official, but it’s finally nearing the end.”

She claps her hands excitedly and I raise my brow in a sarcastic expression. “Oh, stop. I’m excited for you to be moving on, that’s all. Anyway, enough of that talk, we have lots to do.” She motions to all of the paintings and sculptures on the tables. “What’s happening with all of this?”

“I know a few have some final details to add to their big pieces, so we’ll find out who they are and I can stay with them if you don’t mind taking the rest and getting them to hang up their artwork in the back?”

“Sure, do you want to show me how you want it?”

We walk into the large back room and I place pedestals in the four corners. “If you can place two in the middle and two as you walk in, that’ll be perfect for the sculptures. And…” I spin around in a circle, pointing at the far wall. “If we have the big pieces here, I’ll Velcro the curtain up later, ready for the big reveal. Leave the placement of the other paintings up to the kids, it’s their artwork after all.”

She nods and I grin at her, starting to feel the flutter of excitement coursing through me. Today is going to be a good day.

The bell dings in the front and we walk through, welcoming the excited chatter of the kids we’ve been teaching every Saturday morning for the last six weeks, it may not feel long to some, but to me, watching them pour out their imagination and emotions makes me feel like I’ve known them for so much longer.

“Miss J!” Izzie cries as she bounds through the doors.

“Hey, sweetie, you ready to finish your painting for gallery night?”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbles, already walking over to it. Clay joins her and I watch as he helps her up onto the high stool while he stands, handing her a paintbrush.

I turn toward the other kids. “Right, everyone that has finished their pieces, go with Tilly. The ones who still need to do some work on theirs, you’re with me.”

Most shuffle off toward the back of the room with excited chatter, but three stay behind, already pulling out their pieces and getting to work on them.

“Finished!” Izzie calls from across the room as I help a student wash up their paintbrushes.

“Awesome, call Tilly through and she’ll help you guys get it on the drying rack outside since it’s a nice day today. It’ll dry quicker out there so we can get it up on the wall before tonight.”

Izzie skips through to the back but I notice Clayton staring down at the painting in front o

f him, a frown marring his face, so I walk over there.

“Hey, buddy.” I look down at the sheet of paper with him. “I love it all, especially this guy here.”

“That’s Edward, he’s one of Izzie’s favorite people.”

I smile. “Awesome, and who’s this?” I ask, pointing to an older looking lady shown by the wrinkles on her forehead.

“That’s my nana, she’s coming tonight. And that’s Amelia, she looks after us sometimes,” he says, pointing to the painting of a small woman with blonde hair and brown eyes.

“And this is your dad?” I move my finger over to the painting of a man in a suit. He nods and smiles at me. “And is he coming tonight?”