Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Despite his hesitations about joining the class, Shannon was interested in stepping into Dante’s world and seeing what he was like around other people. He put on his worst jeans, books, and long-sleeved shirt as per Dante’s instructions.
By the time he was dressed and had finished his coffee, Dante was already in the workshop setting up.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Shannon asked when he stepped in. Usually, he saw it when Dante was cleaning up, not when he was sitting up.
There were clearly six workstations set up on the benches, and Dante was pulling out bits of metal and wood and setting them on a different table where there were some finished chopping boards and cheese knives on display.
He knew from previous experience with craft projects that his would look nothing like that. Dante’s looked like something he’d find in a high-end home store, where they over-charged and paid as little as possible for the item.
“Nope, just pick a seat or decide what kind of wood or shape you’d like.” Dante held up a triangle of wood. “This is one of my favorites; it polishes up beautifully, but I think the shape makes people panic. They want round or square.”
“Is it hard to round off the corners?”
“No, and what most people don’t realize is that a triangle is very forgiving because each one of the corners can be different, and you can just say it’s meant to be that way.”
“Sold. Half-assed creativity is what I’m good at.” He held out his hand as Dante passed him the triangle of wood.
“If you want the knife to match, you’re going to need this.” Dante handed him a much smaller piece of wood. “Then you choose a piece of metal.”
“Is there a trick to choosing?”
“No, the trick is you have to heat it up and hammer it out.”
“So thinner is better?”
“Not always.”
Shannon considered the options and went for something in the middle before taking a seat at the end. That way, if people turned up with friends, he wouldn’t be in their way.
“Is this usually a popular class?”
“Yes. There’s a spot because someone got sick. It’s also that class that gives people a taste, and then they come back for more.”
“Where is the safety gear?”
Dante smiled. “You will get that when I give the safety lecture after everyone arrives.”
The workshop was already warm from the furnace, and it was too easy to imagine that by the end of the day they were both going to be very sweaty, which gave him several very wrong ideas about what to use the workbench for.
Dante glanced at it. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face said everything. When everyone leaves, you can misbehave as much as you want.”
“Uh-huh. I was only thinking about cleaning up at the end.” His gaze flicked down to Dante’s crotch.
He hadn’t had getting railed in a workshop by a knife maker on his list of things to do until this morning.
Not that they had ever discussed that, but he’d be equally happy bending the knife maker over the workbench and going to town.
“Sure you were.”
The rumble of a car pulling up was enough for Shannon to bite his tongue. This was Dante’s office; if nothing else, he needed to give him the professional courtesy of not messing up his class because he was banging the teacher.
Three women walked in, all excited to be there and apologizing for their friend who was sick and devastated about not being able to make it.
They promised to buy her a set, so Dante happily showed them what they would be making and confirmed that yes, he did have some for sale over on the shelves, not the class samples.
The women looked at the sets and picked one for the friend, paying for it there and then. Dante was almost animated as he bagged the board and knife for them before directing them to the workbenches.
One of them took the bag out to the car as the others noticed Shannon sitting there. Two more cars pulled up, and two guys walked in.
That was the full class.
Dante gave everyone a few minutes to pick a spot and settle down before introducing himself and launching into some safety rules.
He handed out gloves, leather aprons, and safety goggles as he talked.
It sounded like a well-worn speech, and when the first question was asked, he didn’t pause, which made Shannon think he’d heard it all before.
This was a side of Dante he had only glimpsed. The side that had first drawn him in at the Pride Day fair when he’d seen Dante surrounded by his wares. The confident artist, whose arms and chest were testing the patience of his shirt.
By midafternoon the novelty had worn off. Shannon was hot, sweaty, and had a blister despite the gloves and the early application of a sticking plaster. Why anyone chose to do this for a fun day out was beyond him.
Why anyone would choose to do this as a job was also baffling.
He took another drink from his cup. Dante had a stack of them by the sink for those who didn’t bring a water bottle. At least he wasn’t the only one, though all the women had brought theirs.
They were almost done, just the polishing and oiling of the boards, and already he could see that Dante had been right about his wood—it was pretty. And even though each of his corners was different, the board didn’t look like a wonky triangle the way he feared. It almost looked good.
Dante was walking around giving encouragement and tips. At the sound of a vehicle rumbling up the driveway, he paused. “One moment.”
Dante stepped out of the workshop, and like everyone else in the class, Shannon kept his head down, working while his ears strained to pick up any conversation. He was sure he heard his name, but that had to be wrong.
Dante appeared in the doorway. “Shannon.”
Oh fuck, he had heard his name. This could not be good. He quickly checked his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed any messages. Had they been short-staffed at work and needed him to come in?
But there were no missed texts.
As soon as he stepped outside, he understood why his mother had asked for his address, and it wasn’t to send him a birthday present.
She’d come to visit. At least it was only her and Dad, not everyone.
He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say beyond ‘what the fuck’ which didn’t seem very appropriate.
He turned to Dante and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were going to do this.”
“It’s fine. You were almost done. Go and see what they made the drive for.” Dante gave him a tight smile which was more than what Shannon could muster.
His mother beamed, teeth white, long blond hair loose, the same as it had always been. His father leaned on the car as if waiting for him to get in the way he had so many times when Shannon had been a kid.
Shannon walked over. “What are you doing here?”
“We missed you, so we decided we’d surprise you.” She lifted her hands. “Surprise.”
Oh, he was surprised, but not in the good way. He wasn’t sure there was a good way to be surprised anymore.
She pulled him into a hug even though he was sweaty and hot and still stunned. It took him a moment to respond. “I didn’t expect you to come and see me.”
The whole point was to get away until he felt settled and stable.
“That’s why it’s a surprise.” She stepped back and frowned. “What are you doing in there? What kind of place is this?”
“I’m renting a room while I look for something more permanent, and the homeowner is a knife maker. He invited me to join one of his classes.” That already felt like too much information to give his mother, as she would already be creating a story.
“Oh…”
“That’s not like you to want to get your hands dirty,” his father said.
Shannon glared at him and extricated himself from his mother’s arms.
“Not in that way,” his father finished. “This is a bit out of the way for you.”
He didn’t want to continue this conversation so close to the workshop, but he didn’t want to invite them inside either. “Why don’t we go and sit on the deck?”
He didn’t take them through the mudroom in the kitchen, instead walking them around the outside. Once they were settled, he went in and grabbed a jug of iced water and glasses. He’d rather be back in the workshop finishing his cheeseboard.
“So this is Foggy Basin,” his mother took a sip of water.
“Yes. There is a bigger town about half an hour away; that’s where the hospital is.”
“You aren’t bored yet?” his father pressed.
Shannon drew in a breath. “No, I’ve been really enjoying the change of scenery.”
His parents shared a glance.
Were they disappointed he wasn’t complaining about making the biggest mistake of his life?
His mother gave him a small smile. “You don’t have to pretend that everything is okay. If you want to come home, you can stay with us for a bit until you find your feet.”
Shannon laughed, then realized she was serious. There were about a thousand options he would take before moving back home. “I’m not pretending. I’m enjoying my job and the people I work with, and while I haven’t found a suitable rental yet, one will turn up. Until then, I’m staying here.”
“It’s so rural,” his father said.
“Yes.” He’d thought much the same and compared to LA it was.
“Is there any kind of social life?” His mother pressed.
There was, but he hadn’t been indulging.
“The first weekend I was here was their Pride event, then there’s the local bar, and various clubs.
I’ve joined a gym.” Which technically wasn’t a lie because he was going to a gym.
“I’ve had breakfast with some coworkers when we get off shift and drinks a few times. ”
He wasn’t being a complete hermit, even though he lived with one.
His mother pushed his knee. “You know the kind of social life I mean.”
He wanted to plead ignorance, but it was easier to just answer her. “Mom, I moved to concentrate on myself, not throw myself back into the dating pool.”
Technically, that was also not a lie because he wasn’t dating anyone.
He had gone on zero dates. Unless he included the way they made dinner together, or breakfast, or how Dante would have an afternoon coffee with him before he started night shift, or the way they would watch a movie together curled up on the sofa like they’d been doing it for years.
“You’re really happy here?” Mom asked as if she didn’t believe a word he was saying.
“Yes. I know that’s hard for you to believe given what my life was like before, but I’m not in a rush to move back.
” He wanted to stand up and tell them it had been a good chat, but he needed to get back to his workshop…
however, they had driven all the way down.
“Are you planning on heading back tonight or have you booked accommodation?”
That glance again. He pressed his lips together as an annoyance tightened his chest.
“We were hoping to stay with you for a couple of nights,” his father said.
Maybe you should’ve put that in a fucking text message.
“It’s not my house, so I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.” He didn’t want them there, and he doubted Dante wanted more people in his house.
“Well, you can ask, since we’ve come all this way? You should have said you were only renting a room and didn’t have a place.” His mother shuddered. “You always had your own place back home.”
“That’s because I was always living with someone.” A friend or a boyfriend. He had never lived alone. Even now he wasn’t living alone. “I can check, but I’m not making promises.”
“We know.” His father nodded. “What else has been going on?”
“Nothing. Work, getting to know the town, looking at houses…doing the knife-making workshop…” Was that too subtle?
His mother put her hand over her mouth. “You must go back. We’ll be fine here for a bit.”
“Do you have much longer?”
“No, we were finishing up soon anyway.” He stood and checked the time, already knowing that he’d be finishing his pieces later. “I’ll be back in a few.”
He took his time walking back to the workshop; the enjoyment and budding sense of accomplishment had faded beneath the jangle of nerves his parents’ arrival had caused. He didn’t know how to walk back in with everyone turning to look at him with silent questions in their eyes.
But he didn’t want to face his parents either. It felt like they’d arrived to undermine the foundations of the new life he was creating, so he had no choice but to fall toward the city he’d once called home.
He stepped into the workshop as Dante was talking to the three women who were promising to return with their friend and thanking him for his time.
They gave him a smile and then left. Dante glanced at him but didn’t ask any of the obvious questions, and Shannon didn’t volunteer anything because this was Dante’s job and he didn’t want to mess it up with his drama.
So he sat at his place and picked up the cloth he’d been using to rub the oil into the wood. He tried to ignore one of the guys as he spoke to Dante about knives and wanting to learn more. Dante handed him a flyer and also recommended several knife shows—who knew that was even a thing?
The other guy left with barely a nod, and then it was just him and Dante in the workshop.
Dante walked over and sat next to him. “Your parents are still here.”
It wasn’t a question because their car was still parked near the house.
“They came to see me, thinking they would be able to stay with me.” That was on him.
“I didn’t tell them I was only renting a room, but when she asked my address, I didn’t think it was to visit.
” He put down the cloth. Pretty sure that every inch of his cheeseboard was well oiled.
“I told them they may not be able to stay.”
“Of course they can stay. They’re your parents, and it’s only for a night?”
He didn’t want them to stay that long. He nodded.
“You don’t seem happy.”
“I’m not, and it’s not that they are terrible parents or even terrible people, but they aren’t here to see me. They’ll be here because they want something and they decided it was better to do it in person.”
Dante frowned. “You don’t know that. They haven’t seen you for three months. They miss you.”
He wanted to believe Dante, he really did. It would be nice for them to care about more than how much he could loan them. Instead of arguing, he smiled. “Thank you for letting them stay. I will buy the pizzas.”