Summer looked down at her hands, thinking for a moment. “I used to string pony beads, or the crystal-like ones, when I was little with my mom,” she began. “You know, the fat round plastic ones that teachers pretend are indian beads. They aren’t, of course. And, I don’t know, I just got fascinated with all the different possibilities, and different rocks and gems, and I started looking up tips on the internet, and designs, and here I am.”
The box just behind her was large and filled to the brim with little boxes and various containers, each one filled to the top with beads or gem chips or strangely-shaped shiny bits. “Do you want to try?” she offered.
Ace listened with hooded attentiveness as he again ran his hands across the many textures of the different gems and stones, keeping a sequence on their respective threads.
The lad couldn’t think back on doing something special with his mother; she betrayed his father at so young. Warmth didn’t fill his home, but tension. He found himself avoiding the cute little brownstone townhouse more than he spent time inside of it.
“No…” He objected quickly, eyes falling on her current piece of work. “I’d probably mess it up. I like watching.”
She glanced up at him, eyes dancing. “I hardly think you can mess up stringing some beads. I’ve got plenty.” She shrugged, though. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.” Humming softly along with the music, she held up the one she was working on, contemplating its length, and went back to adding another pattern to it.
The current song playing ended, and as the next one began, she smiled a crooked sideways smile at her hands, before starting to sing along. “~o I fall in love too easily / I fall in love too fast / I fall in love too terribly hard / For love to ever last.”