Chapter 10 - The Walnut Floor

On a warm Saturday afternoon in late May, the garage door of our new house was propped open to let the spring breeze roll across the concrete floor.

Ellis was working at his newly built workbench—a massive, solid-oak table he’d constructed himself using heavy timber and dowel joints that could probably have supported the weight of a small car.

I sat on an old wooden stool nearby, holding a small brass branding iron in my right hand over the blue flame of a propane torch until the metal tip glowed a dull, cherry red.

“Is it hot enough?” Ellis asked, wiping a smudge of sawdust off his forehead with the back of his forearm.

“Hot enough,” I said.

We walked over together to the center of the garage, where a newly planed walnut coffee table lay flat on two sawhorses. The wood was dark, rich, and smooth as skin, smelling faintly of linseed oil and fresh sawdust.

I knelt down on the concrete, pressed the glowing brass iron firmly against the underside of the tabletop, and held it there for four steady seconds. A small plume of sweet-smelling smoke rose into the air, carrying the scent of burnt walnut and summer dust.

When I lifted the iron, the brand was dark, deep, and permanent.

Right there on the bottom grain, where nobody would ever see it unless they knew to look, were our initials, our wedding date, and a small, simple outline of a wire whisk.

Ellis looked down at it, smiled, and offered me his hand to help me back up to my feet.

My left cheek was entirely healed now—smooth, clear, and unmarked by anything other than the passage of time. My shoulders were light, my breathing was even, and for the first time in thirty-one years, I didn't have to figure anything out for anyone else.

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“Well,” Ellis said, wrapping his arm around my waist as we stood together in the open doorway of our own home, watching the afternoon sun stretch long amber shadows across the grass. “What do you want to make next?”

“Nothing,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder while the Michigan wind rustled the leaves of the big maple trees out front. “I think we’re finally done building.”