Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Something that felt so crystalline in his head splintered when he tried to put it into words.
"I think I know what you mean," River said. "It’s kind of similar to faith, maybe? Not religious faith necessarily, but a conviction. We can agree on a general enough notion of how faith functions so that we can talk about it, but it can’t ever be pinned down by definition. So it’s always gonna be a thing that we reference through a combination of metaphor and assumption."
"It does feel kind of like faith," Cassidy said. "I can’t show any proof to back up feeling, but I know it’s true anyway."
River nodded, gaze moving from his eyes to his lips. Heat pooled in Cassidy’s groin.
"So what about yours?"
"My …" Cassidy played the last few moments back in his head. Had he missed something? "Gender?" he tried.
"Your vision board," River said, smiling.
"Oh, right." Cassidy dragged his mind back to his hopes and dreams. "I don’t remember if I told you at Craftmas, but I used to work as a carpenter."
"Oh, right, Charlie said."
"Yeah. I started in high school and did it until about a year ago. I’d done taxidermy as a hobby for years, but more and more people were bringing me animals they wanted me to mount, or asking for commissions. A few years ago, Nora started shifting her own art interests and they began to overlap with mine more and more."
"What kind of stuff did she used to do?"
"Large metalwork pieces that took her months to finish. They were absolutely stunning—I have one in my house that I can show you next time we’re there."
The assumption tripped off his tongue before he realized he’d made it, but River’s eyes lit and Cassidy knew there would be a next time.
"We began vending together because it was cheaper to share a table, but as our work converged, we found new ways draw in a more diverse pool of customers, which helped both of us sell more. Exponentially. Enough so that about a year ago I quit my job to do it full time."
"Damn, that’s amazing."
Every time Cassidy told the story he was flooded with gratitude for his current position.
"Yeah, it’s been a dream come true. I liked carpentry fine, but I didn’t have passion for it. Nora hates being told what to do ever, so she’s been fired from or quit just about any job you could think of."
"Awesome," River said.
"Suffice it to say that self-employment suits us both. Wait, what was your question? Oh, the vision board, right."
He tapped a picture of a quaint, old-fashioned general store.
"When the events are inside, the fluorescents kill me. Doing the summer art and craft fair circuits is better because they’re outside. But you need to sell a lot of product to make a profit after the expense of traveling to get to them. And speaking of traveling, it’s a lot. And I’m more of a stay-at-home guy."
"Very relatable," River said.
"Eventually, I would love to be able to stop doing as many fairs and get a permanent storefront. A place where I could have the work out for sale in addition to shipping orders and vending. Just something simple, like this."
He traced the lines of the general store’s weathered wood. It reminded him of a certain patina that bones got while in the process of being bleached by the sun.
"Wow, yes," River said. "You totally should. Your stuff is amazing. So’s Nora’s. I don’t wanna bust into your vision board, but have you thought about selling prints of your work?"
"Like posters?"
"Like art prints. You would get someone to photograph your pieces, edit the images until you’re happy with them, and then you have another income stream. You could have some that are framed already hung around the shop, and you could have all the prints available loose and for cheaper."
Yes! Different sizes, mugs and notepads and greeting cards, and images of the work to put on the website.
His brain clicked away with dozens of ideas, so many ideas he worried he’d lose them.
River passed him a piece of construction paper and a marker and he jotted down the storm.
"You," Cassidy said, "are a freaking genius."
CHAPTER 21
River
Giddy with excitement for Cassidy and delight at how well the date was going, River flopped onto their back with a satisfied sigh.
Instantly, they were mobbed by cats. Cactus Face was purring like a motorboat, making biscuits on River’s hair. Winston draped his body over their shins for some reason. It didn’t seem at all comfortable to River. Reishi and Enoki pounced on their stomach, and Murder Dog was attempting to burrow into their spleen.
"Please don’t murder River in the middle of our date," Cassidy requested of the cats. Then, to River, "Do you need assistance?"
His face appeared above them, amusement apparent.
"Nah, I’m good. They’re just little flop bears, aren’t you?"