Chapter 26
Saffron
A fit, elegant woman in her fifties, all fabric scarves and long flowing dresses, opened the doors of a refurbished warehouse ground floor.
Her smooth brown skin did not show her age, but the streaks of white in her tied-up dark hair did.
When she saw Tyler and me walking in with linked hands, she smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.
“First time taking a pottery class?” she asked me after we exchanged hugs.
“I’ve never created anything with my hands, and I am afraid I will make a mess of things,” I replied as we followed her into the room. From the little I could make out so far, it was a typical Manhattan studio with white walls, minimal decoration save for pottery objects hung on the wall.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a smooth, calming voice.
“We all have our firsts. I am Sage, by the way, and this class is not for making perfect vases or cups. What we do here is center ourselves while also creating something you can keep for yourself or gift to a loved one. Or throw away if you do not like it. Think of it as a meditation class if you will.” She flashed a smile and floated ahead of us and went to stand in front of the class.
A few people were present. About six total, besides Tyler and me, and they were all darted around the room. One I recognized was a famous tech billionaire, and another was a famous Academy Award-winning actress. They all waved at us as we went to take our places on the back bench in the room.
“She’s interesting,” I said as I sat down next to Tyler. “I would never have guessed someone like you would take a class run by what I can at best describe as a yoga enthusiast.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Tyler adjusted the pottery wheel in front of me and produced tools out of a drawer below the table I hadn’t noticed before, then arranged them in front of me.
“Meditative pottery class? You’re right, I did not have that on my bingo card. So do you come here on your lunch or something?”
“This is the first time coming during the week. This place is usually full on the weekends.”
“I can see that,” I said, looking around the large room. It could easily fit thirty students if my count of pottery wheels was accurate.
He pulled out two aprons and handed me one while putting on the other.
I was skeptical. Meditation was not my thing, and neither was pottery, but five minutes into the class I was already getting the hang of it.
Sage was a patient teacher; her instructions were clear and easy to follow even for a beginner.
Halfway into the class, I got why Tyler enjoyed it.
The goal wasn’t to make anything meaningful, but to enjoy the process and focus on it and nothing else.
By the end of the class, I was a full believer.
I’d never felt so relaxed while also creating something.
Sage did not give us instructions on what to create, but helped us all with our various projects.
I created a soap dish. Tyler was creating something that looked like a cup or a vase.
“What do you think?” I said when my plate had dried.
“It’s amazing!” The wonder in his voice made me laugh.
“It’s a tiny, little, uneven plate. Calm down.” I could see the mistakes I had made, but the imperfections did not bother me. It made them cute. Maybe it was Sage’s repetitive instruction of ‘embracing the uneven’ that made me appreciate it.
“I like it. How are you going to decorate it? Have you chosen your colors?”
I nodded and showed him the green and gold pigments. “I’m glazing it with green and drawing gold leaves on it.” I winced.
“Don’t worry. You can pull it off. Let me show you how to do it.” He took the plate and cleaned it up and then gave me sandpaper. “You hadn’t polished it.”
“See. I told you I am going to make a butt of a soap dish.”
“Embrace the uneven,” he echoed Sage’s words as he directed my hands to spots I had skipped.
His fingers brushed mine, and like a schoolgirl, my body thrummed in response.
He helped throughout the entire process.
When it was time to draw on the leaves, the little things were difficult to do, so I ended up drawing three circles, which Tyler then covered with tape.
And when it was time to dip it in glaze, I let him mix the color.
After he was satisfied, he grabbed my plate with tongs and handed it to me.
I dipped it into the bucket and watched in wonder as the glaze coated the little plate.
“It’s white!” I said as the glaze dried.
Sage, who was strolling by, said, “It will change if you give it time.” And continued on.
“It will change, give it time,” Tyler said, mimicking Sage’s low, smooth voice.
I giggled. “She’s going to hear you, and we will be booted out of the class,” I whispered.
Once the glaze had dried, Tyler handed me the soap dish. It was exactly the green color I wanted, and the little circles looked more like ovals. It was cute. Tyler had also finished his project. It was a pink cup. And when he turned it around, it had my name written on it.
“That’s so cute,” I said.
“It’s for you.” He pushed it towards me.
“Come on. Now I have to give you this ugly soap dish. It’s not fair.”
He chuckled and grabbed it. “I’ll cherish it forever.”
He had meant that in a hyperbolic way, right? Before I could dwell on it further, the class was over and we were leaving. I bid Sage and her classmates goodbye. She gave me a warm hug that someone like her liked to give.
“That was unexpectedly amazing,” I said to Tyler. “I feel so…accomplished. Isn’t that weird?”
“I told you; you’d like it.” We were now on the busy Manhattan streets with our crafts in gift bags. He put on his sunglasses, took my hand, and we went to his car. Instead of opening the front doors, he opened the back, placed the pottery on the rear seat, and closed the door.
“Got other things you want to do?” I asked, surprised.
“Come on.”
I wasn’t sure where we were going until Tyler and I arrived at a high-end fashion store that predominantly sold women’s clothes.
“What are we doing here?” He ignored me as he took me inside.
A shopping assistant was waiting for us because when she recognized Tyler, she immediately directed us to a private room beyond the shop front.
I sank down onto a plush white sofa wondering what was up when next another woman with a tray with two glasses of champagne came in and placed it in front of us.
Tyler picked up the two glasses and handed me one, then he sat next to me, his arm around my waist. A couple of minutes later, a short, stout woman burst in and said, “Oh, you’re here finally!
” She said in a thick Brooklyn accent and waltzed towards us. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“How are you, Letty?” Tyler said. “This is the who I was talking about.” He rubbed my back. “Do you have the dress?”
“Ah! The lady who lost the dress. Stand up and let me see!”
I handed Tyler my glass and got up. She turned me around this way and that. “She has a beautiful body, Tyler.” Letty peered behind me.
I heard Tyler respond. “Do you think the dress will fit?”
“Are you a model?” She spun me around. I nodded. “Used to be, but I am retired now.”
“I knew you looked familiar. Hmm… I think I have the right size.” She snapped her fingers, and two more assistants came in the same door she came through, holding a garment bag. Letty unzipped it, and an exact copy of my red dress came out.
I turned to Tyler. “How did you find this?” Versace only made a dozen dresses. I was sure that if he were to replace it, it would have been with a different but similar dress.
“I have a knack for finding any dress you want, dear,” Letty said. “Although this one was a tough find.” She took the dress out of the bag and measured it in front of me. “The lengths I had to go to. It is brand new, by the way. Letty doesn’t sell hand-me-downs. Wanna try?”
I nodded. She showed me a dressing room off to the left. I took the dress and changed out of my attire into the expensive fabric. It fit like a glove. I came out of the dressing room and showed it to Tyler.
“Oh!” Letty clasped her hands. “It looks like it was made for you! No wonder you wanted it replaced.”
Tyler quietly observed as I turned around for his inspection. “Thanks,” I said to him through watery eyes, but it was Letty who responded.
“No need to thank me, girl. All I want from you is to wear the shit out of that dress. It hugs your figure so perfectly.”
I hugged Tyler, surprising him. “Thank you,” I said. Why did he do this? Why did he do things that were making me slowly fall in love with him?