Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

For the next ten minutes, the whole room is so quiet that you’d be able to hear a pin drop. My eyes wander over all of the kids, but also Harmony too. The way that she interacts with them is amazing. She’s the right mixture between firm and fun. She doesn’t let them walk around or mess around, making sure that they’re all doing the task that she’s set as she keeps an eye on them all, but at the same time she jokes around with them and lets them laugh.

I catch her looking over at me when I move my gaze from Izzie to Clay and she narrows her eyes at me, a warning behind them to which I raise my brows in question.

She compliments each of them, giving them all a little bit of her time as she crouches down beside them and talks to them. She’s with Izzie the longest and I have no doubt that it’s because she talks nonstop.

Once Izzie has finished, she holds her hand up and Harmony walks over to her before turning her gaze to me and nodding.

Izzie jumps up, the painting held across her arms as she walks slowly toward me, looking down with every step she takes with careful precision until she’s next to me.

“Look, Daddy.”

I lean closer, staring at the painting and tilting my head from side to side as I try to work out what it is.

“It’s… really good,” I say, moving my eyes back up to hers.

“Can you see it?” she asks, but doesn’t give me a chance to guess as she points to the purple splodge. “That’s a cat…” She points to the green. “That’s the grass…” And then she points to the orange circle. “And that’s the sun!”

“Oh, wow.” Now that she’s told me what it is, I can see it. I frown at myself at not being able to work it out sooner; although to be fair, it does look like three splodges of paint.

My head snaps up when Harmony claps her hands, telling them all to put their paintings in the back room to dry and that they can take them home next week.

The room becomes louder as they all walk around, taking their paintings and then coming back out and helping collect all of the paintbrushes and palettes, setting them in the bucket that sits underneath the large sink.

“Izzie, Clayton, you’re on cleanup today. That means you too, Mr. Carter.” She eyes me as she walks past, smirking. “That’s if your delicate hands can handle getting dirty.”

I point at my chest, my eyes widening as Izzie comes over to me, grabbing my hand and trying with all her might to help me up off the chair.

“I can handle it just fine, thanks,” I retort, raising a brow to which she scoffs.

I look down at Izzie where she’s still trying to pull me up and chuckle. “I got it, Izzie.” I stand and let her drag me over to the sink.

“No!” I jump as she shouts, letting go of my hand and waving her arms about frantically. “They go in the bucket, Clay, not on the side of the sink,” she huffs and storms forward, picking the palettes up and placing them in the bucket.

“Jeez, Izzie, calm down.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

I roll up my sleeves and stand back, waiting for instructions from Izzie. She stands in the middle, reaching up and showing me how to clean them and where to place them afterward.

The three of us get into a rhythm as we clean them, and several times I turn to look at Harmony as she stands at the door, smirking and chuckling at me as she hands all of the kids off to their parents.

Once all of the tools are washed, Clay and Izzie take off their coveralls and I roll down my sleeves, walking over to where Clay and Izzie are now standing where Harmony is wiping down the tables.

She turns toward Izzie and Clayton. “Did you guys enjoy today’s session?”

“Yeah!” they both shout in unison.

“That’s awesome, did Dad enjoy today’s session?” Her tone changes slightly, but if I wasn’t observing her so closely, I’d never have known or seen how her muscles tensed.

“I did,” I answer, pulling my shoulders back and watching as Clay collects his book from his chair. “Thanks…” I say, my throat dry all of a sudden when she whips her head around to face me. “For letting me watch today.”

She nods quickly. “You’re welcome.”

I wait for her to say something else, but she moves her gaze from mine, ending the conversation. After a beat, I say, “Come on then, kids. Let’s get going.”

They both say their thank-yous to Harmony, and I can’t help the sadness that washes over me as we start to walk out of her studio.

Being back in the same space as she’s in has been refreshing; it was always easy to be around her, and now isn’t any different. She seems to have a calming effect on me but also has me on edge.

I turn back to face her when we get to the door, only she’s disappeared.