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I pull out the credit card. April told me that it’s for things we need for the meetings. Anything used in a board meeting can go on the credit card she said. A new briefcase. A movie projector, a purse for Smuckers. If you use it in a meeting, it goes on the card. I’m thinking of my friend Latrisha, a furniture artisan. I could use the credit card to commission a new carrying case for Smuckers.
But then I get an even better idea.
I walk Carly to school the next morning. We wave to the beginner mimes, hard at work building their sadly misshapen invisible wall. We do a bit of window-shopping at the Fluevog store—I’ve told Carly she gets two splurgy purchases with our new money.
I wave as she disappears up the school steps. I bundle Smuckers into his flowered carrier and hail a cab, giving the address for the cavernous makers space.
All kinds of people rent space there—tattooed woodworkers and potters, hipster upholsterers, and jewelry-making metal workers like me. It’s open twenty-four hours, because so many of us have straight jobs during the day, the bread and butter job while we try and make it as artisans.
I find Latrisha at her corner station, sanding away at a mod chair. I go over. “Sad face,” she whispers. “I brought cookies and everybody ate them all.” We bring snacks a lot. Sometimes we bring wine. Then she notices Smuckers. “The baby!”
I take Smuckers out and soon a dozen people are around, petting him.
I leave him with his new fans and go around and commission things—a pottery bowl set, metalwork shoe rack, glass-blown things. I write checks on the spot. I tell people I came into an inheritance; they don’t need the details. I’ll use the stuff for future Christmas gifts. I just want to spread around my windfall.
People buying stuff makes such a huge difference to makers.
Finally I get back to Latrisha.
“What?” she asks, because I’m smiling so hugely.
“I have a commission for you,” I say. “It’s something a little offbeat. A beautiful piece of furniture. But I need it in a week.”
“You’re hiring me.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “You know I’m not cheap. Especially for a rush job.”
“I don’t expect this to be cheap. In fact, cost is no object.” I pick Smuckers up off the floor. “I want a really special piece of furniture for Smuckers. I’m imagining a cross between a dog bed and a throne. And it can’t be plain. I want flourishes. Scrollwork. Metal. Jewels. Whatever. Just make it wildly outrageous. Maybe four feet high or so. I want him to be really comfortable, but regal, elevated above everybody else.”
“I think you’re taking this new dog mom gig a little seriously. You can put a bowl on the floor and he’ll be just as happy.”
“It’s not for my house—it’s…a long story. Trust me, I want a dog throne, the most elaborate thing you can possibly make.”
She tilts her head, peering at me as if through a haze.
I give Latrisha the big update. She already knew about Bernadette and the fake whisperer gig, of course, but not about the will or Henry or my first board meeting.
She stares at me for a long time after I finish my story. “I can’t believe you’re in charge of Cock Worldwide. They sound like asshats!”
“You don’t even know.” I tell her how they tried to trick me. I repeat the jungle things Henry said.
Latrisha frowns and puts her fists on her hips. “A dog throne, you say.”
She starts designing, showing me ideas for freakishly elaborate millwork. We push it further and further. We get a pounded sterling guy involved. She has this vision for some sort of medallion for the seat back. “I’m seeing it the size of a coffee saucer. Like a coat of arms, except not.”
I sit up. “It needs to be enamel!” This is my territory—I used to love working in enamel. I do a sketch of Smuckers’s sweet little face with a sequined bow tie collar.
Latrisha bends over my pad. I tell her what it is.
“I freaking love that,” she says. “What are you setting it in?”
Henry’s face comes to me, and I’m thinking WWHH—What Would Henry Hate? “Pink alloy. Neon pink alloy. This huge Smuckers face medallion set in neon pink.”
“Like candy.”
“Like candy.” Yeah, I’m spending way too much time on a medallion for the Smuckers throne, but I haven’t had so much fun designing something new in forever. The jewelry I create is as subdued as my court clothes and not really fun, but this? I’m loving it, even though it was inspired by that jackass Henry Locke.
Henry is a breed of man I avoid like the plague, thanks to Denny.
The minute I sense a guy might have family money, I’m out.
