Beginnings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  “Workers? Plural?” Beth propped her elbows on the table.

  “Certainly plural.” Henry’s fingers drew a circle on Mom’s shoulder—Beth was certain he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. “You’ve had Andrew with you for several months now, and sometimes it’s still hard to keep up. If your workload is going to increase, it makes sense to add a few more employees to the studio. They could start with the little things—the suncatchers—and work up to the larger projects, just as Andrew has. On-the-job training.”

  Beth considered what it would be like to have more than one person in the studio. She frowned. “I like the idea of extra hands, but right now with just Andrew and me, it can feel crowded. I don’t know how we’d fit more people in there.”

  “So expand.” The enthusiasm in Henry’s voice stirred excitement in Beth’s chest. “You’ve got enough land to build on three of the four sides if you need to. Start interviewing people now who would like to learn stained-glass art. Then, when it’s time to start working on those multiwindow contracts, you’ll have people in place ready to go.”

  “But how will I pay for a bigger studio?” Beth threw her hands outward. “I don’t have any money from these contracts yet.”

  “Take out a small-business loan,” Henry said.

  “A loan?” Grandma sounded horrified.

  “An investment,” Henry countered, his tone gentle. “If Beth is going to build her business, a loan may be necessary.”

  “No loans. I don’t trust banks.” Grandpa shook his head adamantly and wrapped his hand around Beth’s forearm. “You don’t go to any bank. If you want to expand the business, I’ll give you your portion of your inheritance early.”

  Grandma immediately sat up straight, her face lighting. “Yes! Much better.”

  “In–inheritance?” Beth looked from one grandparent to the other. “But I already got an inheritance from Aunt Lisbeth. Her café and house. That’s enough.” It was much more than she could have anticipated, having grown up far away from this community and her mother’s relatives.

  “That was from Lisbeth,” Grandpa said. “But I always planned to divide my holdings between my children and grandchildren. Already one of Art’s boys claimed his portion when he took a wife and needed to purchase land for a house. Now you can do the same. There should be enough to add on to your studio.”

  Beth’s heart raced. “If I add workers, I’ll need more equipment, too.”

  “If the community puts up the building for you, like they did last time, you’ll have money for equipment.”

  Beth stared at her grandfather. “You’d really let me do that? Take my inheritance early?”

  Grandpa looked steadily into her eyes. “Do you believe this studio is what God planned for your future?”

  The seriousness in his expression and tone made Beth think carefully before she answered. She had prayed about the studio, and she did believe she’d been given the talent and desire by God to create beauty with stained glass. She nodded. “I do believe it’s what He intended for me.”

  “Then I will give you the money. Tomorrow.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  “Grandpa Koeppler is quite the go-getter.” Beth and Andrew sat on opposite sides of the worktable and sipped lemonade from tall paper cups. There wasn’t anything from Deborah’s café that Beth didn’t like. The sweet, cool liquid revived her after a long day. Her work had been interrupted several times to confer with her grandfather on the addition to the studio. “He’s done more in one day than most people would accomplish in a full week.”

  “Because he wants to see you happy,” Andrew said, his smile crinkling his eyes. “And he knows the studio makes you happy.”

  “Well...” Beth bit down on her lower lip for a moment. “I’m wondering how you feel about all of this. The expansion is moving pretty fast.” Grandpa had already placed the order for materials to build toward the alley. Tomorrow a small crew of men would pour the concrete foundation so it would be dry and ready for construction when the steel beams and siding arrived by truck next week. Beth’s head spun with the idea that by the beginning of April she could have a staff of three under her supervision!

  “You need to expand if the studio is to be all you’ve envisioned.” Andrew raised his broad shoulders in a shrug. “Your success is my success, so I’m not arguing.”

  Beth could have reminded him of his comment that she shouldn’t stay in Sommerfeld, that she didn’t belong. But she chose instead to ask a question. “Since we’ll have the space for a full crew in here, do you have any suggestions for employees? I have no real preference for male or female, but I do think I’d like the workers to be at least eighteen years old.”

  It wasn’t uncommon for youth as young as fourteen to begin working full-time, whether on their own family farms or in other positions in and around Sommerfeld. But given the potential danger of some of the equipment used in the studio, Beth preferred workers with a little more maturity than the normal fourteen-year-old.

  “Hmm...” Andrew’s furrowed brow and thoughtful tap of his finger against his lips told Beth he took her question seriously. “If you want to hire young people from here in town, I would start with your uncle Ben Koeppler’s older girl, Catherine. She is eighteen but not yet married, and I heard she was looking to be hired at the big discount store in McPherson. Her parents would rather she wasn’t driving.”

  Beth nodded. She’d met Catherine at family gatherings. She was a sweet, quiet girl who would likely prefer staying close to home. “Anybody else?”

  “Maybe...” Suddenly Andrew’s ears began filling with pink. “She’s another of your relatives, although not so close—a cousin from your maternal grandmother’s side. Doug Ortmann’s daughter Livvy asked me not long ago if she could come by and see what we do. Maybe she would be interested.”

  Beth, observing his flaming ears, resisted making a teasing remark. “I had thought about Trina. She’ll be eighteen next month, right? And I know she’s said she’d rather not work at the restaurant.”

  “Working here would be the same as working there to Trina.” Andrew’s voice held a touch of sadness. “She wouldn’t be any happier. And asking her would only create problems with her mother.”

  Beth agreed with that. Although she didn’t find Deborah as intimidating as she first had when she’d come to Sommerfeld, she still tried to keep her distance from the forceful woman. The last thing she wanted was to cause conflict in Trina’s relationship with her mother.

  “Okay, then. My cousin Catherine and ... Livvy, you said?” At his nod, he shifted his gaze to the side. A curious reaction. Beth pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. “Well, here’s what I suggest. We might as well find out now whether they’re interested. That way, if they aren’t, we can look for someone else. We also need to know if they can learn the process. Do you suppose they could come in tomorrow and watch you make a suncatcher from start to finish? Maybe even start one themselves.”

  Andrew’s head whipped around. “Tomorrow?”

  Beth flipped her hands outward. “Why not? If they get some training, they’ll be ready to step into full-time slots when the addition is finished. I can’t pay them a wage until they actually start working, so I’d need to make that clear, but if they’re interested and can prove their ability, I could put them on the payroll when they start constructing projects.”

  “Or maybe pay them per project to get started?”

  “Not a bad idea...” Beth leaned her chin on her hand, thinking out loud. “To start with, I had thought of paying minimum wage. But I kind of like the idea of paying per project. Then, as their skills grow and they work on the bigger projects, the pay could increase. I’ll probably also start them out part-time—maybe just mornings. Ease into it. What do you think?”

  Andrew’s lips curved into a lopsided grin. His brown eyes glowed. “I think we are going to have a real art studio right here in Sommerfeld.” He released a hoot that surprised Beth. She’d never seen him
so animated. He reached across the table and gave her hand one quick squeeze. “It’s going to happen, isn’t it?”

  Beth couldn’t stop her own smile from growing. “It’s going to happen.” She looked over at the platform. The kaleidoscope of color sparkled beneath the overhead lights, and her heart rate increased as her gaze skimmed around the circle of glistening shapes. “And to think it all rests on one window....”

  “Both Ben Koeppler and Doug Ortmann have telephones. Do you want to call the girls’ fathers now and make arrangements for them to come in tomorrow morning?”

  Beth jerked to face Andrew, blinking in confusion. “Ask their fathers?”

  “Well, of course. The girls still reside beneath the roof of their fathers’ homes. They must have permission for the job.”

  Beth hadn’t considered having to ask permission for employees to join her workforce. Her stomach churned. She was still considered an outsider. Even though the men were related to her, they could say no.

  “You know them better than I do.” She clasped her hands in her lap, almost holding her breath. “Would you mind making the calls? You’ll be pretty much in charge of their training anyway, as my top assistant.”

  Andrew sat up straighter, his smile wide. “I can do that. Should I call now?”

  “Please do.” Beth slipped from the stool. “And I’ll get busy on the McCauley window. The last thing we want to do now is miss the deadline!”

  Beth listened with half an ear as Andrew made telephone calls. In both cases, the men were working away from the house, but he elicited promises for them to call him at the studio when they returned home for the evening. It occurred to her as she listened to the calm surety in Andrew’s voice how much he had changed in the months at the studio. His self-confidence had grown by leaps and bounds, and she realized with a small rush of pride that she had shared in his growth.

  A warmth spread through her middle, and she lifted her face to send him a smile of approval. When he smiled back, his ears didn’t even turn red.

  ***

  By ten o’clock Tuesday morning, Beth wished she had a pair of headphones to block out the noise that stole her concentration, yet she didn’t complain. She would show nothing but appreciation for the four men who’d graciously come to block and pour the floor for her addition no matter how raucous their laughter and noisy their hammers.

  Inside the studio wasn’t much better with Andrew running the cutting wheel to ready pieces for two pink butterfly suncatchers. Beth glanced up and swallowed the giggle that tried to form. Both Livvy and Catherine in their dresses, white caps, and neat anklets seemed so unsuited to this setting. Yet they stood side by side, aprons and goggles in place, and watched each step of the process with concentration. The hammering and voices from behind the studio didn’t seem to distract them at all, and for a moment, Beth envied them their complete attentiveness to their task.

  If only she could be so single-minded today! Last night she’d lain awake, her mind refusing to shut down. So many things to think about. If she hired workers, she needed to file paperwork with the Social Security Administration, be sure she talked to an accountant about tax laws, and update the record-keeping system in her computer so if she was ever audited, she’d be prepared. She needed to browse catalogs for the best prices in new equipment—another cutting wheel; more gloves and pliers and nippers; and an oven for staining and firing her own glass.

  Her heart tripped at the idea of coloring glass. Creating her own hues and shades rather than relying on a little block of color from an online store or paper catalog to match the hue and shade in her imagination. Her dreams were rapidly becoming reality, and Beth alternated between wanting to dance and shout and sing ... and wishing she could hide and cower and cry.

  Lord, thank You for the progress being made, for the people willing to help me. Let my studio be a reflection of what You have planted in me— let these projects bring glory to You.

  The prayer formed effortlessly, and the fear shrank. Surely, as she’d told her grandfather, this studio was God’s plan for her life. “If God is for me, who can be against me?” She murmured the words, paraphrasing a verse she’d encountered in her devotional reading. The thought washed her in peace, the fear melting away. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

  Andrew and his two observers moved to the worktable, where he demonstrated and then allowed each of them to snap the glass. Soon the three of them each held a carborundum stone and applied it to the edges of the wedges of pink glass. Beth, watching out of the corner of her eye, developed an even greater admiration for Andrew. He would be a wonderful foreman.

  She sat upright, wondering when she’d finally released her worry over depending on him too much. God must be working on her, too. Humming to herself, she bent back over the platform.

  With all the hammering outside, she almost missed the sound of the telephone ringing. Andrew stepped away from the worktable to answer it, then held it out to Beth. “It’s Sean McCauley.”

  Beth rose, brushed off her knees, and took the phone. She plugged her opposite ear with her finger. “Good morning, Sean.”

  “Good morning. It’s noisy over there!” His chuckle softened the complaint.

  “I know.” Beth paused, suddenly unwilling to divulge everything taking place. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t want Sean to know about all of the changes ... yet. She sought a way to tell the truth without divulging specifics. “There’s some construction nearby. It gets loud.”

  “I guess so.” He seemed to accept her explanation. “Listen, I won’t keep you because I know you’re busy, but I needed to let you know Dad will be accompanying me to Sommerfeld next Wednesday. Although he’s stayed up on the progress of the window through my reports and has seen pictures, he wants to meet you in person and see the window himself before we finalize McCauley’s working relationship with you. Will that work?”

  Beth’s heart set up a patter. One more week, and everything would be final! “That sounds fine.”

  “And Dad would like to take you to dinner. We’ll discuss all the details while we eat.”

  Beth frowned. “Well, the café here in town closes early on Wednesday since that’s Bible study night, so we’ll have to drive in to one of the bigger towns.”

  Sean’s laughter came through the line, giving Beth a lift. “Not a problem, although one of these days I do want to sample the cooking at that café. I’ve heard good things about it.”

  “Someday,” Beth promised, then fell silent. How many times would she and Sean meet face-to-face once her employment was set? Wouldn’t they just communicate through e-mail, fax, and phone calls? The thought depressed her. She shook her head, throwing off the sadness. “Do you know what time you’ll get here Wednesday?”

  “We’ll probably leave K.C. at noon. It generally takes me a little over three hours, so look for us around three, three thirty. Is that okay?”

  Beth licked her lips. “Sure. That’ll leave me most of the day to finish things up.”

  “Sounds good.” A pause, and then his voice returned, lower, husky. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

  Beth’s mouth went dry. “Me—” She swallowed. “Me, too, Sean. See you then.” She hung up the phone before anything else could be said.

  As she returned to the platform, she glanced at Andrew. He smirked and winked. Heat rose in her face, and she turned away to get busy.

  ***

  Sean pushed the disconnect button on his telephone, then released it and punched in his father’s number. When he heard his father answer, he spoke without preamble. “Next Wednesday afternoon will be fine. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”

  “I’ll pick you up. I want to drive.”

  “Okay. Noon then. Anything else you want me to do in preparation for the final contract?”

  “No.” Dad’s authoritative voice boomed through the line. “You’ve done the legwork. I’ll do the paperwork. But do bring all the dimensions
for the windows for that Denver church, as well as the one in Carlton. Even though we’d have time to get that to her later, given the construction schedule, I’d prefer she have them so she can fit the planning into her schedule.”

  Sean fingered the neat paper on his desk. It already bore the dimensions of each window and its location in the finished buildings. “Not a problem.”

  “Does she plan to continue doing her own work, as well?”

  Sean frowned. “I’m not sure. I know initially she hoped to, but I’m not sure how she could handle all we’re throwing at her plus her own stuff.” For a moment Sean felt guilt press at him. He hoped Beth wasn’t setting her own dreams aside for the sake of fulfilling McCauley contracts.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” his father stated emphatically. “Let her work it out. What matters is being able to brand that young lady as the McCauley stained-glass window artist. No other churches will sport windows with the kind of design we can offer. It’ll give us yet another edge in the construction world. So how are the mock-ups for that annex in South Carolina coming?”

  It took Sean a moment to catch up with Dad’s abrupt change of topic, but he answered several questions about the potential recreational facility on the East Coast. They discussed the project in Mexico, which was nearing its completion, and argued about the best supplier for cross beams before hanging up.

  As Sean put the phone back in the cradle, he felt as though something had been lacking in their conversation. He pressed his mind, and when the answer came, it surprised him. Because it had nothing to do with business.

  When, he wondered, was the last time he and Dad had talked about anything that didn’t directly involve McCauley Church Construction? He couldn’t remember. But why did that bother him?

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Beth whistled, enjoying the quiet inside the studio. She’d come early to beat the crew, who planned to pour concrete into the frame they’d constructed yesterday. Mixing and pouring concrete was much less noisy, yet knowing they were out there might still provide too much of a distraction. She hoped that by getting a jumpstart, she’d be so focused she wouldn’t even notice when the men arrived.