Mr.Brightside

Chapter 41

 Jack's New Beginning

The day after Clara's exhibition, the house was quieter than usual. Olivia was at preschool, and Clara was taking the day to rest after the whirlwind of the show. She deserved it—every moment of last night had been a celebration of her, of the incredible woman and artist she had become. I still couldn't get over how well everything had gone. The praise, the sales, the awe in people's eyes as they looked at her work—it was everything I'd hoped for her, and more.

But I couldn't stop thinking about my own piece. It had been a small part of the night, an almost secret addition, but showing my woodworking publicly for the first time had stirred something in me.

I knew it was time for me to figure out my next step.

A Decision

That afternoon, after I dropped Olivia off and Clara was still resting, I headed into the garage—the space I'd transformed into my own little workshop over the past few months. I stared at the tools hanging neatly on the wall, the half-finished projects scattered around the space. Each piece was a reflection of the joy I'd rediscovered, the peace I found in crafting something with my hands.

The table I'd displayed at Clara's exhibition had been a small step, but it had opened a door. I couldn't stop thinking about what Clara had said the night before: "Have you thought about doing more with it?"

The truth was, I had thought about it. But I'd always pushed the thought aside. It felt too risky, too uncertain. But standing in my workshop, the smell of sawdust in the air, I knew I couldn't ignore it anymore. The corporate world had never been where my heart was. And now, after watching Clara take the leap, after seeing her thrive in her art, I realized I needed to take my own leap.

I picked up a piece of wood and ran my hand over its smooth surface. I'd spent years trying to figure out what I wanted, where I fit, and now it was clear.

It was time for me to start my own woodworking business.

The Conversation

That evening, after Olivia was asleep and the house was quiet, I sat down with Clara. She was curled up on the couch, a book in her lap, but when she saw the look on my face, she set it aside, giving me her full attention.

"I've been thinking," I began, unsure of how to start. "About the woodworking... and my job."

Clara's eyes softened, and she leaned forward. "Tell me."

I took a deep breath. "I think I want to take it more seriously. The woodworking, I mean. I've been doing it on the side, just for fun, but after last night... seeing how much you've grown through your art... I realized I want to give this a real shot."

Her face lit up with a smile, but I could see the questions in her eyes. "You mean, like, as a business?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I want to start small, but I think I could do it. I've already had a few people express interest in commissions, and I've been building up a portfolio. I think... I think I'm ready to make this more than a hobby."

Clara reached for my hand, her fingers warm and steady against mine. "Jack, that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, her support as steady as it had always been. "It's scary," I admitted. "But I've been stuck in my job for so long, just going through the motions. I think this is what I need."

She squeezed my hand. "You've been there for me through everything. You've supported me every step of the way, even when I wasn't sure of myself. Now it's your turn. I'll be here for you, whatever you need."

Hearing her say that—knowing she believed in me—made the decision feel even more right.

The Next Steps

The next few weeks were a blur of planning, researching, and setting things in motion. I talked to a few local artisans and business owners about how they got started, learning the ropes of starting a small business. I spent hours refining my designs, sketching new ideas, and building pieces that I could showcase on a small website Clara helped me set up.

We worked late into the night some evenings, bouncing ideas off each other, just like we had when she was preparing for her exhibition. It felt good to have a shared creative energy in the house again.

I filed the paperwork to officially start my business—**Parker Woodworks**. It felt surreal, seeing my name attached to something I had created with my own hands. But it also felt right.

There were moments of doubt, of course. Starting something new always came with uncertainty. But every time I felt that creeping fear, I thought of Clara and how far she'd come. I thought of Olivia and the example I wanted to set for her—that it's okay to take risks, to follow your passion, to believe in yourself.

The First Commission

One morning, as I was working in the garage, my phone buzzed with a new email. It was from a local interior designer who had seen my table at Clara's exhibition. She wanted to commission a custom dining table for one of her clients.

My heart raced as I read through her request. This wasn't just a small project—this was a big piece, something that would be a centerpiece in someone's home. And she wanted me to make it.

I showed Clara the email that evening, and she beamed with pride. "This is it, Jack. This is your first big step."

"I know," I said, a mixture of excitement and nerves buzzing in my chest. "It feels... huge."

"It is huge," she agreed. "But you've got this. You're ready."

Moving Forward

As I started working on the commission, something clicked inside me. This wasn't just about making a table—it was about creating something meaningful, something that would become a part of someone's home, their life. It reminded me of the way Clara talked about her art, how each piece was a reflection of her journey. I realized that woodworking was my way of expressing myself, of leaving my mark on the world.

And I loved it.

As the days passed, I found myself more and more immersed in the work, but it never felt like a burden. It felt like freedom. Like I was finally doing something that mattered to me.

Clara was there every step of the way, offering advice, encouragement, and sometimes just a quiet presence when I needed it. We were in this together, both pursuing our dreams, both supporting each other in ways that felt new and deeper than before.

I didn't know where this path would lead—if Parker Woodworks would become a full-time venture or if it would remain a side business. But for the first time in years, I wasn't worried about the outcome. I was enjoying the process, savoring each moment, and trusting that whatever happened next, we'd figure it out together.

Because that's what we did. We figured things out together.

And that was enough.

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