Page 28 of Learning Curves

“Totally. That’s why I’m so glad people like you and me get to help keep their memories alive.

We get to introduce women like Rosa Bonheur to new generations.

There’s nothing like seeing a student really engage with the work of an artist they might not have discovered otherwise, is there?

And while it still guts me that you don’t have the class, you’re doing the same thing with your book.

You’re bringing Eliza St. Claire to life, giving her words and emotions that people will resonate with so much more than a stuffy textbook. ”

Michelle’s body felt too warm. Audrey’s praise filled a needy void inside her, a place she had buried so deep she’d almost forgotten it existed.

But honestly, when was the last time someone had truly appreciated her?

At work? At home? Anywhere at all? Audrey made her feel good, and it wasn’t just because Michelle was attracted to her.

She was extremely grateful for Audrey’s friendship.

“Thank you” was all she could think to say. She’d never been good at accepting a compliment, and right now, between the wine and Audrey’s proximity on the sofa, she was even more tongue tied than usual.

“It’s all true,” Audrey said. “Now, what do you say we go upstairs so I can give you a turn at the wheel? I think you’re going to love it. I find it so relaxing, almost meditative.”

Michelle had felt that way watching Audrey, and as she drank the last sip of her wine, she realized she was too tipsy to drive herself home right now anyway. “All right.”

“Yay.” Audrey clapped her hands together, then reached for Michelle’s empty wineglass. “I think I should loan you a shirt, though, unless you can roll those sleeves up really far, and even so ... you might want one of my old T-shirts just to be safe.”

Michelle looked down at her shirt with its snug, cuffed sleeves. It was impractical, just like the idea of Michelle using the pottery wheel. “Oh, maybe I should just—”

“Nope,” Audrey interrupted, obviously having guessed the direction Michelle’s thoughts had taken. “Don’t back out because of your shirt. Just borrow one. Please? We’re going to have so much fun.”

Too much fun, perhaps. Maybe that was why Michelle kept looking for reasons to back out. “Okay. I’ll borrow a shirt.”

Audrey took her hand and tugged, pulling Michelle to her feet, and if their hands lingered for a moment once Michelle was up, surely that was all in her mind. Now that she was standing, though, she felt even tipsier.

“Surely it isn’t a good idea to use the pottery wheel after two glasses of wine,” she hedged, one last excuse.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You make lopsided pottery? That’s probably going to happen your first time anyway. Don’t stress. This is just for fun. So don’t worry about drunk potting ... only drunk driving.”

That drew a surprised laugh from Michelle ... another side effect of the wine. She followed Audrey upstairs and accepted a black shirt to change into.

“You can go into my bedroom to change. It’s got the only bathroom upstairs.”

“Okay,” Michelle agreed, but once Audrey closed the door behind her, Michelle was alone in Audrey’s bedroom, which felt unsettlingly intimate, given her recent thoughts.

The bedroom was decorated in cool, soothing colors.

Audrey’s bed was covered with a blue floral-patterned blanket.

The paintings on the walls, like the art downstairs, looked mass produced, likely stuff that had come with the house, but there were sculpted items on the dresser that she suspected were Audrey’s. She wasn’t in here to snoop, though.

Michelle quickly changed her top, leaving her blouse folded on the end of Audrey’s bed. When she walked into the hall, she could see Audrey in the studio, setting up the wheel for its next project. Michelle crossed to her, filled with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

What if she was truly terrible at this? Would Audrey think less of her?

“Ready?” Audrey asked with the kind of smile that made Michelle’s chest feel warm and full, a feeling she was quickly becoming addicted to.

Michelle nodded, accepting the smock Audrey held out to her.

“You’re going to sit on the stool I was using earlier,” Audrey said.

“And I’m going to sit beside you, so I can guide you.

Also, don’t set your expectations too high.

We’ll make a simple bowl, but even so, you’re probably going to have to start over a few times.

Your first time at the wheel is all about getting a feel for it, and our goal today is to have fun. Okay?”

“Yes.” Michelle sat on the stool, staring at the wheel head that Audrey must have washed since they were in here earlier. It was perfectly clean again, a blank slate.

“First, you want to get it wet.” Audrey gestured to the wheel head, and Michelle really needed her to stop using that word. Once she’d moistened the wheel, it was time for the next step.

“Now you need to stick your clay to the wheel. You’re going to slap it on there nice and hard. Don’t be shy with it.” Audrey handed Michelle a ball of clay that had already been prepped the way Audrey explained to her earlier that afternoon. She’d forgotten what the process was called.

Michelle took the clay, momentarily marveling over its texture beneath her fingers.

So smooth. It made her want to run her hands over it, however silly that would be.

She balanced it between her hands and pressed it onto the wheel head, but she could tell immediately that she hadn’t done it firmly enough.

“Harder, Michelle.”

Maybe it was the wine, but those words from Audrey’s lips had a surprisingly arousing effect. To distract herself, she lifted the clay and smacked it against the wheel. This time, it stuck.

“Perfect,” Audrey told her. “See the foot pedal there? You’ll use that to start the wheel moving.

We need to center the clay first, but it’s a great chance for you to get a feel for how it all works.

Just hold the clay between your hands and feel it spin.

If it starts to feel too dry, you’ll wet your hand in that bowl of water, and likewise, if it gets too wet, you’ll use the sponge to soak up any excess water. ”

Michelle pressed her foot experimentally against the pedal, and the wheel began to spin.

“Just like that,” Audrey said. “Nice and fast to start, and you want to wet your fingers first.”

It was official. Everything sounded sexual to Michelle today. She dipped her fingers into the bowl of water beside her, which had also been changed since Audrey made her teacup earlier. It felt cool and refreshing against her fingertips.

Michelle sucked in a deep breath, and then she touched her fingers to the mound of clay. It slipped beneath her fingers, silky smooth, not at all what she’d expected. “Oh.”

“It feels nice, right?” Audrey asked.

“Mm-hmm.” Michelle watched her fingers as she slid them experimentally over the clay. It moved beneath her hands, becoming smoother and more round as she molded it. “I see why you like this so much.”

“Right?” Audrey sounded thrilled. “It’s a great stress reliever. Sometimes I put some clay on there and just mess around with it, not even trying to make something. It’s like self-care.”

Michelle pressed her index finger more firmly against the clay, watching in fascination as a groove formed beneath her touch. She dragged her finger slowly down, and a spiral shape appeared on the surface of the clay. “Amazing.”

“It really is. Feel free to play around with it for as long as you like. I always encourage my students to do this, especially if it’s their first time at the wheel. It lets you get familiar with how the clay responds to your touch. Plus, it’s fun.”

It was. Michelle couldn’t deny it as she traced a finger up and down the clay, watching grooves appear, then removing them with her palm. She’d never been one to dawdle, though. “What’s the next step, if I want to turn this into a bowl?”

“You need to center the clay on the wheel first. See how yours looks a little lopsided as it spins? Like it’s doing a drunken dance.”

“Yes.” The lopsidedness had been bothering her, actually.

“Right. You’re going to put your palms on opposite sides of the clay and press inward, and slowly you’re going to draw the clay in and up, okay? Like what you saw me do earlier.”

Michelle did as she was told, again enjoying the feel of the clay between her palms as she pressed against it.

Soon, it had formed into a thin, cone-shaped object on the wheel.

Then, with Audrey guiding her, she pushed it back down, creating a spherical mound.

She repeated this process several times until the clay no longer wobbled.

“Awesome. That looks nicely centered to me,” Audrey said over her shoulder. “But if you see anything that’s off, you can just cone it up and back down again.”

“It looks centered to me.” Michelle stared at her perfectly round clay patty, feeling absurdly proud of it.

“Great. Now you’re going to open the clay.

You’re going to wet these two fingers”—she held up her index and middle fingers, making Michelle flush—“and press them into the center of the clay, nice and gentle. You’ll brace with your other hand for stability.

Like this.” Again she demonstrated with her hands, and again Michelle struggled to see or hear anything but sexual innuendo.

She should have declined wine and gone straight home because this .

.. she should feel ashamed. Her headspace was so inappropriate, but all she felt was excitement.

Her heart was speeding, and her stomach tingled pleasantly.