Chapter 7
JACE
I never thought leftover Orange Chicken would be a cure-all, but spending last night with Ash really helped me. Good company and a comfortable couch might not be much; however, it was everything to me in that moment.
People underestimate the importance of having space to just exist. Ash gave me that.
Jackson would have hovered. Eli would have prodded. Lucky would have cuddled with me… okay, so that wouldn’t have been so bad except I would have to explain everything to Spencer, and I’m not ready for that yet.
Too many Daddy types are in my life that don’t want me as their boy but want to control my life.
Ash just let me kind of power down, and it brought me an unexpected peace to know they were there to take care of whatever popped up to the point that I didn’t even have to move.
“What do you think?”
The realtor’s voice brings me back to the present and I really look around the space that used to belong to a glassblower. The front of the shop is functional.
Honestly, the majority of my projects are commissions and projects that cannot be just placed in a window, but I also create some more conventional pieces that can appeal to the average passerby – especially around the holidays.
The real value in this location is the forge in the back.
The previous owner made sure that everything was up to code to form his creations on site, so it would take only minor adjustments to get things updated for my welding and smithing.
Plus, with the extra space, I can finally take on some of the more complex orders that I had to turn down from members at the Devil.
“This is the best option I’ve been able to find, Mister Whitetower.
You can always convert other spaces, but zoning really makes it difficult to find a location where a forge would be welcome.
Well, at least within the areas you have asked me to search.
If you were willing to look outside of Wrenshaw proper, there would be more options with freestanding structures. ”
Shaking my head, I hold up a hand to stop her from going into another sales spiel.
Clara Hayes is one of the best realtors in the town of Wrenshaw, according to Clarence – my boss at the club – but she is a talker.
She’s good at her job, though. Her finding this space will save me months of extra work and lost income setting up a place from scratch.
“This is perfect, Clara. Put in an offer for whatever you think is fair, but I would like to hear back on this as soon as possible. I need to have things settled within a few weeks if at all possible.”
That should give me enough time to get squared away for social services.
Clara does a little happy dance and skips over to her car after locking the shop back up, making me struggle to hold back my own giggles. While it’s nice to have one thing checked off my list, I have about a hundred more things to take care of.
“One micromovement at a time, Jason. That’s the trick. It doesn’t look like much at first but when you put all those teeny tiny steps together, you can move mountains.”
The memory slams into me as I swing a leg over my bike.
Ron was one of the better foster dads I had over the years.
The time spent in his garage working on his stop-motion film shorts make up a lot of the happier memories of my early teenage years.
He was the person who encouraged me to pay attention to how things moved and fit together.
Between him and my middle school shop teacher, I can’t decide who played a bigger role in shaping my career.
His words of wisdom – despite originally referencing making a toy car drive around a miniature set – have kept me going when things get too overwhelming over the years.
And right now? I am taking the tiniest possible steps so that I don’t fuck up my little brother’s life, too.
The car dealership is a short ride from the shop.
The next step is to get an actual vehicle.
My bike has been my primary mode of transportation since I turned twenty-one.
Before that, I just borrowed Jackson’s car.
Even now, I borrow something with four wheels when I need something that my motorcycle can’t accommodate.
But that changes with Gerry. I need a vehicle to take him to and from school and the doctor’s office.
I need something with air bags and crash test ratings.
Fuck it all. I also need something that I can transport finished pieces in.
Before, I was able to have clients pick up the finished products.
Technically, I still could – especially with the new shop – but I want to know where my custom restraint systems are ending up now.
So, the new vehicle should be something that can haul a few hundred pounds of metal, leather, and wood in addition to people.
In the end, they talk me into a Honda Odessey – a minivan of all things. Between the safety ratings and the sliding doors, it just makes sense. With an SUV, I am limited to only using the hatch to load or unload. With a truck, my deliveries would be subject to the weather.
Plus, with the minivan, if Gerry wants to do an outing with friends, I can drive everyone without having to worry about limiting to one or two friends.
Shit, I am actually starting to look like an upstanding citizen.
I hope it is enough to keep social services from breathing down our necks once I bring Gerry home.