Made to Love Read online

  “Figures.” Mason immediately regretted saying it. She had no idea of the type of relationship that Anne and Marly had. Nor was it her place to pass judgment. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” Marly shrugged. “I deserve it. Mom was different back then. I left and never looked back. I can see with you that she wasn’t the person I ran away from all those years ago.”

  “All those years ago? You can’t be much more than thirty. When did you leave?” Mason studied Marly’s face closely. She appeared younger than Mason’s thirty-eight years, but not by much.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m thirty-nine. I left during college.” Marly ran a hand through her hair impatiently. “It’s been a long time.”

  “I don’t know what she was like with you, but Anne…well, she was the closest thing I had to a mother. She took me in and treated me like family.” Mason’s tone was defensive, though she didn’t necessarily mean for it to be. “That’s how I will remember her.”

  Marly swallowed guiltily. Truth be told, she hadn’t given her mom the chance to prove herself otherwise. She almost couldn’t remember the reason she left in the first place. Her mind searched for the exact conversation, and she could hear bits and pieces as the pictures slowly faded into view. It had to do with Marly’s decision to drop out of school. Anne insisted she finish college, but Marly wanted to travel. The disagreement ended with Marly’s leaving home and not looking back. Now, twenty years later, she was back in the house she grew up in, but this time it was to say the good-bye she didn’t say the first time around. Marly felt a lump starting to swell in her throat, and she looked for a distraction. "What are you, some kind of welder?”

  “Something like that.” Mason tried hard to extend the type of courtesy she knew Anne would exemplify. “I am an artist. My medium is metal. The sculptures in your mom’s, I mean your yard are my work.”

  Marly admitted to herself that Mason did have talent. “What are you working on?”

  “An orchid, for Anne.” Mason slipped her gloves back on. “Listen, thanks for the coming by and for the apology. I’ll work on gathering the stuff from your yard over the next couple of days. I’ll try not to bother you.”

  Marly watched Mason start to withdraw, and she reached out and touched her arm before she could slip her mask back over her face. “We got off on the wrong foot. That’s my fault.” She nodded at the plate. “Cookies. That’s my attempt at a peace offering. I don’t know anyone here anymore, and I’m going to be around a while getting everything settled. Can we at least pretend to get along, for my mom’s sake? I think she would have wanted us to be friends.”

  Mason almost shot her down, but Anne’s face flashed in her mind, and she could picture Anne scolding her for being so unwelcoming. Mason chuckled at the mental image of Anne’s finger wagging at her disapprovingly. “I suppose I owe her at least that much.”

  “Good.” Marly nodded matter-of-fact, content to have the subject settled in her mind. “How will you make the orchid? It seems very intricate.”

  “It is.” Mason pulled her mask off and set it on a bench next to her blowtorch. “Come here, I’ll show you what I’m doing right now. This is an English wheel. What I’m doing now is wheeling.” She stepped over to a machine that was attached to a thick work table. It had an arm extending from the top that held a large, inch-wide wheel suspended over a smaller wheel that was connected to its own metal arm. She laid a piece of the thin metal on the smaller of the two wheels and used the tightening arm, twisting the bottom wheel until it butted up against the bigger wheel, pressing the metal sheet between them. She flipped a switch, and the wheels started to whir.

  With skilled dexterity, Mason slid the metal between the two wheels. It took several passes before Marly noticed a difference, but she saw the gentle curve of the metal begin to resemble a petal. “You do that for each and every piece?”

  Mason shook her head from side-to-side. “I will use it if I want a particular arc or curve. Normally, I’ll use the air-powered shaper. It’s much quicker. However, this piece is very personal to me, and I want to put myself in all the pieces.” Mason picked up another piece of metal and held it out toward Marly. “Wanna try?”

  “Oh, no.” Marly shook her head no. “I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”

  Mason reached out and pulled Marly toward the machine. She pointed to another pair of gloves. “Put those on. You won’t mess anything up badly enough that I can’t fix it. Besides, it’s art. Part of the beauty is in its flaws.”

  “Like us?” Marly met Mason’s eyes and felt herself being pulled into their depths. She shivered nervously. Marly wasn’t one for personal connections. They scared her. She had tons of friends, but none she would consider a best friend. And her relationships, well that was a disaster she didn’t care to think about. Her lovers accused her repeatedly of keeping a wall between them, never letting anyone in. It wasn’t something Marly tried to do; she just naturally protected herself. On the outside, she seemed friendly, insanely likeable, but if anyone got too close, she shut down immediately. Perhaps, that was why she was always on the move, never staying in one place too long. As a freelance advertiser, she could excuse the restlessness on her job. It was a lie that came easily and more often of late. She didn’t want a connection with Mason. But for some reason, Marly craved a friend and Mason fit the bill; however, temporary it would be. “I just meant our imperfections are what make us unique.”

  “I know what you meant.” Mason wasn’t certain what to make of the brief moment they shared or the fear she saw in Marly’s eyes. She didn’t know her well enough to ask, and she wasn’t all that sure she wanted to know. She waited until Marly donned the gloves then handed her another strip of metal.

  “How should I do it?”

  Mason pursed her lips, thinking of how to explain her method. “Imagine the petals on a flower then shape it like that.”

  Marly bit her bottom lip and put the metal between the wheels, pulling it toward her. After several passes that she thought mimicked Mason’s, she was disappointed to see that the metal had changed very little. “What am I doing wrong?”

  “Nothing, if you’re making a bookmark.” Mason switched the machine off and studied Marly’s face. “Where’s your heart? You have to feel what you are doing and pour those emotions into your work.”

  “I don’t understand.” Marly stared blankly at Mason.

  “Close your eyes.” Mason reached out to steady Marly and kept her hand on her arm. “Picture the curves of a woman’s body…”

  Marly opened one eye and shot Mason a look.

  “Okay, you’re not into chicks.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Marly’s tone suggested offense, and she smiled quickly to soften the harshness of her comment. “I’m a lesbian. I just don’t see how curves will help me.”

  Mason sighed loudly. “Just bear with me. Close your eyes.”

  Marly closed her eyes and opened her mind to Mason’s voice. “Picture the curves of your lover’s body. The way her breasts rise and fall as she breathes, the soft dip in her stomach as your hand traces her hips, the way her legs curve into her…”

  “Okay, okay, I get it.” Marly took several deep breaths. Mason’s words and Marly’s mind were combining into one very erotic mental image. Marly hadn’t been with a woman in over a year and while her head was okay with that, parts of her body were quickly letting her know that they were not happy with being celibate.

  Mason swallowed a smirk and tried to ignore the blush in Marly’s cheeks. “Now, imagine that the petals of the orchid are like the curves of a woman. Use that image to shape the metal.”

  Marly nodded and flipped the machine on again. She pulled the metal between the wheels, slowly bending it into a beautiful piece of art. She switched the machine off when she was happy with the result and shot Mason a huge smile. “Like this?”

  Mason took the piece of metal and turned it over in her hands, holding it up to the light, her p
racticed eye sizing up the lines. “It’s perfect. You are a natural.”

  Marly blushed again. She shouldn’t like the attention, but she did. Mason was so innocent and sincere in her praise. There was no underlying motive, no hidden agenda or plan to get Marly into bed. “Your description helped. Thank you for letting me try it.”

  “No problem. Anne would like it; I think.” Mason grabbed another piece of metal and held it towards Marly. “Wanna try another?”

  Marly shook her head no. “Can I just watch?”

  “Sure.” Mason shrugged and started shaping a third petal.

  “How long did you know my mom?” Marly raised her voice slightly to be heard over the low din of the wheel.

  “Ten years or so.” Mason turned the metal in her hand and slowly bent the opposite edge. “I bought the place in 2003. Anne was the welcoming committee. She could make a stranger feel at home. It wasn’t long before she let me display stuff around the yard. Over the years, we just fell into an easy camaraderie. She was more like a mom to me than mine ever was. Funny how even an adopted mom can keep things from you, ya know? It doesn’t matter, though. It doesn’t change how I felt about her. She took me in when I needed to be loved. I’m sure I am preaching to the choir.”

  Marly shrugged. “Maybe, I guess.” She couldn’t say she knew what Mason was talking about. She and her mom had never been close. After her dad left, her mom had changed. She pushed Marly to be perfect at everything, putting her failures on Marly’s shoulders until the pressure created a chasm that was too wide to fix. Marly couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have her mom love her when she needed to be loved. “What was she like?”

  “She was your mom, you know.” As soon as Mason said the words, she wished she could take them back. The tormented look on Marly’s face said more than words could ever say. “Oh.”

  “I never came back.” Marly smiled ruefully. “She sounds different with you.”

  “She was special. I don’t know what happened between you two, and it’s not my place to ask, but I will tell you, she made me feel a lot less lonely than I did growing up. Maybe she was trying to make amends for what she did to you. I’m not sure.” Mason’s voice trembled slightly, and she flashed an apologetic smile. “Sorry. She meant a lot to me. It’s just hard.”

  Marly stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. The friendly thing to do was offer consolation, but Marly wasn’t the touchy-feely type. Besides, she just met Mason. The thought of offering condolences to someone she barely knew unnerved her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Mason started at the monotone words. “You’re a real hit at funerals, aren’t you?”

  Marly nodded uncomfortably. “Yeah, I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

  “Being friends?” Mason asked sarcastically. “So, let’s see. Funerals, friends, family and neighbors. The four no-no’s in your book.”

  “Funny.” Marly sized up Mason, giving her a guilty smile. “It’s true. I suck at this.”

  “Personal interaction, 101. It’s not as hard as you seem to think it is, Marly. Maybe if you got out of your own way once in a while, you would see people aren’t as bad as you make them out to be.” Mason took her gloves off and brushed past Marly. “It’s sad, really. You shut the world out, closing yourself up in this tiny, dark room that you think will protect you. You’re only hurting yourself, you know? All of that aside, I kind of like you, abrasive side and all. I could use a friend, and I think you could too. I figure you won’t be around long enough to grow roots, but if you want someone to hang out with while you’re here, you know where to find me.”

  Marly watched Mason’s retreating form and chided herself for being such a bitch. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there before the chirping of the birds caught her attention. She shook her head in disgust then crossed the alley leading back to her mother’s house. She slammed the door and dropped into a chair. She leaned backward and stared at the ceiling. It was strange being back in the house she grew up in; even stranger still, being alone. In the silence, she felt her mind slip back twenty-five years. Her mother was yelling at her from the kitchen to come set the table. Marly watched herself throw the remote down in anger and stomp into the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at the look of exasperation on her mother’s face. It was the same-old argument every night. Neither one of them wanted to give an inch in the fight. Anne wanted Marly to learn responsibility and Marly just wanted to be a kid. Her dad was long gone, so there was no second parental voice to persuade her. The more time that passed, the more she resented her mother’s attempts to control her, and the more Anne alienated the two of them.

  This particular night Marly pushed back. She heard the sound of the glass breaking as she hurled it to the floor in a show of rebellion. The creak of the screen door filled her ears, and the smell of fresh-cut grass filled her nostrils as her legs churned, pulling her further and further away from home. It was the first of many nights that Marly ran, until one day, she ran so far she couldn’t see home anymore. She couldn’t turn back, couldn’t find her way back anymore. The days turned to weeks, then months, and before long, the face that stared back at her from the mirror was her mother’s face. Her youth was a blurred line that got muddled somewhere in a past she tried to forget. Marly felt the weight of it on her chest, and she sputtered and sucked in air, trying to breathe. She opened her eyes, half-expecting the room to be spinning and let out a relieved sigh when everything stood still.

  Marly stood up and let her eyes adjust to the dim light in the room. She looked on the mantle, the shelves, the coffee tables, searching for a piece of herself, almost surprised to see none. No wonder Mason knew little about her. It was as if all traces of Marly disappeared the last time she ran away. Marly scrubbed her hands over her face and groaned loudly. Mason was right. She had nothing and no one to show for the last twenty years of her life. A handful of people she could only call friends if she exaggerated the truth, and a job that she could walk away from tomorrow and not care. It certainly wasn’t anything to be proud of. For the first time in years, Marly actually missed the emotional and physical connection that most people craved, and the one person she needed it from most was gone. She sank to her knees and rocked back and forth, whispering her mother’s name between the sobs.

  When she came to hours later, it was dark outside. The sounds of the old house reverberated around her. Exhausted, she pushed herself off the floor, finding the kitchen in the dark. She searched the cabinets until she found a glass. She stood at the sink, staring toward Mason’s house, the glass all but forgotten in her hand. Marly realized that it was high time she started righting some of her wrongs. She set the glass down and dusted off her hands. She didn’t bother looking at herself in the mirror. It didn’t matter what she looked like, and maybe it would help ease the tension if Mason could see she’d been crying.

  Mason turned the volume down on the TV and looked at the door curiously. She glanced at her watch, realizing it was just past nine. Not entirely out of the question for visitors, but odd nonetheless. She opened the door slowly and paused when she saw Marly’s face on the other side of the screen door. “Hey. Something wrong?”

  Marly shook her head no and smiled tentatively. “I wanted to apologize for real this time. May I come in?”

  If Mason was surprised at the request, she didn’t show it. Instead, she opened the door and stepped aside, letting Marly pass by her. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No.” Marly sat down and wrung her hands together nervously. Normally, she could do this part, the regular, everyday interaction that required minimal emotional input. She was likeable, witty, and friendly with everyone, but a true friend to no one. But tonight, with Mason, it seemed as though something required that she let her guard down. Perhaps, it was because Mason had already seen what Marly was hiding. In just a short time, Mason pegged everything that made up Marly’s tough exterior. She didn’t let people in, content to have meaningless relatio
nships with everyone she met. It was how Marly protected herself. More importantly, if she didn’t let anyone in, she never had to show weakness and emotion, two things that disgusted her to even think about. “I owe you an apology. You have done nothing, and I repaid that with unkindness. I think part of it was knowing that you had something with my mom that I didn’t have. I know a lot of that was my fault, but it struck a nerve. Anyway, it’s not because of you. I’m sorry that I behaved badly.”

  Mason digested the words. They seemed sincere. She wasn’t sure why it mattered that Marly like her. She figured it was because Marly was Anne’s daughter and Anne had meant so much to Mason. “It’s okay. Everyone is allowed a couple of freebies.”

  Marly’s mouth curved up in a relieved smile. “Thank you. And if the offer still stands, I could use a friend.”

  This time, Mason hesitated just long enough to make Marly second-guess her offer. Finally, she smiled. “I’d like that.” And the truth was Mason would like it. She didn’t have many friends outside the art world. She considered Aspen, and now Lex, dear friends, but they were pregnant and had their own lives. She wasn’t sure how long Marly would be around, but for the time being, it would be nice to have someone who was just hers. “How long are you staying?”

  Marly shrugged. “I’m not sure. I will be here long enough to get her will settled and decide what to do with the house.”

  “You won’t keep it?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought that far out.”

  Mason knew what Anne would have wanted. “Your mom would want you to keep it. She loved that old house. I think some of her soul actually stayed there with it. If you close your eyes, you can feel her spirit all around you.”

  “That’s silly. That’s just the romantic in you.” Marly saw the look on Mason’s face, and she wished she could take the words back. “Oh, you believe that?”

  Mason sighed. “Call me old-fashioned, but I think that if you’re around someone long enough, you start to feel them in everything. I do feel like Anne is still here looking out for me, keeping an eye on everything.”