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The Right Frame Of Mind

Jeb twisted the dimmer switch dial to bring the electric lamps and candles in his workshop to a warm glow.

“Isn’t this kind of dark for fine work?” Paul followed him into the workshop.

“I like the ambiance.” Jeb pulled two rocking chairs in front of the pellet stove. “Being honest, you’re not going to want a really clear view of your first project.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Paul took a seat as Jeb lit the stove. “I figured you for natural candlelight.”

“I used to work by candlelight, but it became impractical.”

“I guess wandering around snuffing all the wicks would take some relaxation out of the process.”

Jeb knelt down to rummage through his basket of scrap wood. “I didn’t mind that so much. It had more to do with the time Trilby set herself on fire.”

“My goodness.” Paul stopped rocking.

“She was okay. She wanted to smell one of the candles, so she leaned over a bunch of other ones. Not the best idea. The artificial silk shirt she was wearing exploded like a magician’s flash paper.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, poof. The whole front of her shirt was just gone. Doesn’t she bolt out the door and dive into a snow bank to try to extinguish it.”

“Jeb, she’s a twig. She must have gone straight into hypothermia.”

“She did. I got her warmed up and put her to bed. After that, I wired up the workshop with these things. Ed Zbrowski suggested the dimmer and the amber bulbs.”

“It’s a nice touch. Very rustic.” Paul went back to his rocking.

“Thanks. It helps me to get into the right frame of mind.” He handed Paul a piece of wood.

“I wish I was in the right frame of mind to get this knife open.”

“Wow.” Carol said. “That’s a lot.”

Phillipe raised an eyebrow.

“My sort of boyfriend filled my voicemail.”

“Sort of boyfriend?”

“Honestly, I don’t know where I stand with this guy. We go to dinner pretty regularly, but it’s usually business-related.”

“He sees you as a colleague.”

“I’m not sure. He seems to like schmoozing, but he spreads that on thick with whoever he’s talking to.”

“How long has this fellow been in the picture?”

She thought about it momentarily. “About the same time I lost Ryan.”

“Lost?”

“Ryan and I were an item through high school and beyond. He was trouble back then.”

“The inexplicably appealing bad boy.”

“Not so inexplicable. He was excitement personified. He was a raw nerve with a heart of gold. There’s a lot of that still there, but he’s grown into himself. The old Ryan was wiry and feral.”

“Feral? That appealed to you?”

“Some kids can’t help but play with fire.”

“This other fellow. There’s no fire in him?”

“No, he’s more like a Fabergé egg.”

“Curious.”

“What?”

“That should be a ringing endorsement, but it certainly is not.”

“I’m serious, though. He’s elegant and has intrinsic value.”

“Form over function?”

“He’s fancy, but it seems like he’s just collecting dust.”

“Whatever happened with this Ryan?”

“He’s back.”

“Same heart, less danger?”

“Maybe, but he has no interest in me.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re lovely and you have history.”

“It’s probably the history that’s keeping him away. Maybe he’s afraid we’d fall back into old patterns.”

Phillipe nodded.

“I miss those days. He was nothing but trouble, but I miss the excitement. Nathan isn’t exciting. He’s reliable and refined.”

“Excellent qualities to have. Don’t you think?”

“I guess they would be if it didn’t feel like he was putting on an act. Ryan and Paul are so genuine and unpretentious.”

“Paul?” Phillipe smiled. “So, we’re back to playing with fire?”

“I feel so bad.”

“He’s a big boy, no pun intended.”

“No, I mean Sarah is head over heels for him, but he kissed me.”

“As I said, playing with fire. Look where that landed you.”

“I know, but that kiss.” She closed her eyes.

“Paul is an exuberant fellow. He has been as long as I’ve known him.”

“I wish…”

“I’m not a genie, but there is some power in voicing one’s wishes.”

“I wish I could have it all, but I really wish I could have anything at all.”

“How does this look?” Paul handed his piece to Jeb.

Jeb turned it over and around. “Not too bad for a first try.”

“But?”

“No buts. It’s not bad at all. I think you’re concentrating on it too much.”

“Probably.”

Jeb set the spoon in progress on a nearby shelf and picked another piece of wood for his guest. “Try not thinking about this one. It’s a lot more relaxing if you aren’t trying to force it to be something.”

“How?”

“Tell me why you’re here, but do it while you’re carving. If you’re not thinking about forcing the wood to become something, it will happen more smoothly.”

“I’m here because Phillipe said I had to.”

“You don’t want to be here?” Jeb shaved wedges of wood from his piece.

“It’s great and you guys have been fantastic.”

“And you can’t sleep. What’s that about?”

Paul shaved ribbons of wood from his piece as he stared at the flickering flames of the pellet stove. “I can’t let go, Jeb.”

“Let go of what?”

“All the harm I’ve done. It follows me wherever I go.”

“Seems to me you’ve done a lot more good than harm.”

“It’s never enough.”

“You’re concentrating too hard, Paul. You need to let good be good enough.”

“It’s just a piece of wood.”

“I didn’t mean the carving. That’s a means to an end. I’m talking about the Sentinels.”

“You think I’m trying too hard?”

“What was it like when you started?”

“I didn’t have time to think about it. No sooner than I signed on with the team, everything went haywire.”

“And when things got resolved, you were still putting all that pressure on yourself to be perfect. You’ve got to let go sometimes.”

“Superheroes can’t afford an off day.”

“Tell me about Saturday.”

“What about it?”

“Trilby and Marta had to bring you home early. Why?”

“That guy said about Eric and those kids looked just like Eric and Jack.”

“Is there something wrong with Eric?”

“Yeah, and it’s my fault.”