Page 135 of The Difference Between

Addie mimics the movement but repeats the words out loud, sounds rounded the way she makes them with a huge smile on her face.

And there’s that emotion I hate, making my chest ache and eyes burn.

“Something else, huh?” Nancy says.

I nod.

“Greg and Bud loved watching,” she says, her eyes glued on her son. “Hours and hours just sitting here while he worked.”

“I can see why,” I admit. His movements are God-given.

Addie asks for juice, leading her and Nancy to weave through the crowd to the refreshments.

Gavin’s movements get smaller, more precise, and Sabrina shifts to telling the crowd about the history of glass and answering questions.

In my ear, the breathy whistle of an ocarina makes me wince.

“Don’t you have community service hours to fill?” I ask dryly.

Banyan lets out a pleased sigh. “It makes sense Fire Lady would fall for a man who wields it.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not falling for him.”

That’s not a lie because it’s already happened.

Banyan pauses mid-blow of his ocarina “You need to be more like the grape seed.”

Sabrina explains the difference between clear and colored glass while Gavin and his team blast the piece at the end of the pipe with a torch.

To Banyan I ask, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Banyan frowns. “Do you ever listen? Do you see the world?” He points to his eyes then taps the tip of his crooked nose. “You’re samsara wrapped in Wall Street, you know that? Stuck in the wheel.”

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “Stop.”

“I’m going to say it again for a little refresh,” he says, not stopping. “The seed wants to sprout, then the sprout wants to grow. The plant wants to be a vine, then the vine wants love so it can bear fruit.” He gestures with his hands, like, ring a bell. “It keeps changing.”

“And?”

“And?” He’s aghast. “Have you learned nothing, Fire Lady? Same soul. Same life. Different goals. Written in the sky not in stone. Evolving.” He pauses, bringing the ocarina halfway to his lips before pausing. “And my O-dar’s saying you won’t be able to follow suit and fix”—he gestures at the length of me—“all this, until you acknowledge what you want and get tickled by a love stick.”

My nostrils flare. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He drops the ocarina to throw his hands up, outraged. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you.”

I smirk. “That might be the first time we agree on something, Banyan.”

“Alrighty, folks,” Sabrina interrupts through the speaker. “Looks like they’re finishing up now.” A man wearing two Kevlar gloves cups the piece as Gavin taps the pipe to break it free. “Stu will walk by on his way to the annealer, but you have to look quick because every second matters. The difference between a few degrees is astronomical when it comes to cooling glass.”

I glance at Gavin, who’s giving congratulatory high fives to his assistants before pulling his glove off then taking a sip of water.

Stu comes into view, as Sabrina says, “This might be a first in the hot shop. A glass slipper.”

Around me, the crowd applauds, and across the shop, Gavin gives me a smug look.

There’s no fighting my smile.

Even when Banyan blows into his ocarina.