Free Within Reach by Sarah Mayberry

her socks.
    “Guess what I learned at school today?”
    “How to tame a dragon?” Angie asked.
    “No.”
    “How to burp the alphabet?”
    “No one can do that.”
    “Wanna bet?” Angie said.
    “I learned how to do a cartwheel. A proper one, not just a handstand.”
    “Wow. That’s pretty cool.”
    “Look,” Eva said.
    She raised her hands over her head, ready to throw herself at the floor.
    “Whoa there. No cartwheels inside, please,” Michael said.
    “Da-aaad.”
    “There’s a perfectly good lawn outside. Show Auntie Angie your circus tricks out there.”
    “They’re not circus tricks. They’re gymnastics,” Eva said with great dignity. “Come on, Auntie Angie.”
    Eva took her hand and tugged until Angie followed her to the sliding door and out onto the deck. Angie looked doubtfully at the overly long grass.
    “Might be a bit wet, sweetie.”
    “I don’t care. Watch!”
    Angie suppressed a smile as Eva bounced down the steps like Tigger.
    “Okay. Here I go.” Eva hurled herself forward, hands hitting the ground, feet making a wonky, off-balance arc in the sky. She landed and looked at Angie expectantly, her face flushed, her eyes bright.
    “Look at you go! That was fantastic.”
    It was enough to set Eva off again. Each time she completed a cartwheel, she looked to Angie for approval, her small face expectant. Angie showered her with praise and Eva redoubled her efforts.
    Angie sipped her wine and laughed at her antics, her gaze drifting around the yard. It occurred to her that she hadn’t been out here since the day Billie had died. The lawn needed mowing, and leaves were piled high beneath the two oak trees in the far corner. The bare wood of Billie’s studio was weather-stained, the glass and wood door faded to a silvery gray.
    Angie considered the small wooden structure. She hesitated a moment, then crossed the deck and peered through the grubby glass.
    The space was as she remembered it—concrete floor, bare plaster walls, exposed wooden beams overhead. The boxes containing Billie’s pottery wheel and other ceramics supplies were piled in a corner, unopened and untouched. Angie remembered her friend’s intense and sudden passion for all things ceramic. Like so many of Billie’s crazes, it probably wouldn’t have lasted, but that was beside the point.
    After a few seconds she walked toward the house. Eva continued to whirl through the air, her skirt up around her ears, underwear shamelessly on display.
    “Did you ever get the electricity connected to the studio?” Angie asked as she entered the kitchen.
    Michael was taking the pizzas out of the oven. “No. Why?”
    She watched as realization dawned. He wiped his hands on a tea towel before crossing to the door. They both considered the studio.
    “Would it be weird for you?” Angie asked after a moment. After all, this was Billie’s studio.
    “Someone should use it. It’s not doing anything for anyone the way it is. The question is, is it big enough for you?”
    “Absolutely. And it’s well ventilated. At least, it will be if I keep the windows open.”
    “What about being near your suppliers?”
    “I’ll just have to be more organized. The important thing is that I could pick Eva up from school three days a week, no worries.”
    Which would leave Michael to collect Charlie from day care on his way home from the office. The perfect tag-team arrangement.
    Michael frowned. She could almost hear the internal debate he was having. Pride versus need, his sense of fairness versus practicality.
    “Just say yes. It’s a perfect win-win and you know it,” she said with a grin.
    He met her gaze. “It has to work for both of us. This can’t be a roundabout way of you doing me a favor.”
    He looked very serious standing there, his dark hair touched with gold by the dying sun. She fought the urge to reach out and ruffle the strands like a little boy’s to get a rise out of him and loosen him up. This was a great idea. The best