Somehow I was not surprised to find Denis waiting yet again when I got downstairs on Thursday morning. Mutely he thrust more bills at me. “This should cover it. Can I work today?” “This morning, I guess. If you want to leave stuff in overnight, that’s okay.” He nodded, more to himself than to me. “Good, good. Longer seems to work better. I can do that.” Then he focused on me again. “Thank you, Em. I mean it. I’m close, I know it.” Yeah. Whatever. Still, I’d been paid. I let him into the studio, then went up to say good morning to Nessa. I handed her the wad of bills. “Count this, will you? He says we’re square. But I’m not sure I want him around once he’s used up his first twenty hours.” The day passed quickly, even without the usual browsers and buyers. I booted Denis out of the studio after lunch, made a few pieces myself, grabbed a bite, took care of the dogs, and worked some more. Finally I straightened up the studio and went around turning things off—the glory holes, the lights.
