He was fiddling with the final piece, trying to hold it and move it into place. It was awkward and he was getting frustrated. He almost had it. “Can you hand me those pliers?” he asked, pointing to his toolbox. She handed them to him, then began rummaging through the rest of the box’s contents. She pulled out a tube of adhesive whose cap had come off. She listened as he kept muttering to himself. “It’s the largest piece and it’s designed to fit in just right. I just have to be careful. Too much pressure and the whole piece will break apart.” He used the pliers to help slide the piece into place. He almost had it when one small push caused the piece to crack, sending thin lines through its surface. She gasped and looked at him. He looked at the adhesive. “Bring it here,” he said.
She handed it to him and watched as he applied thin beads along the cracks, to prevent further damage. He then guided the piece into place. She looked at him as he stared at his project. The months of hard work showed on his face. After a few minutes, he sighed and his face relaxed. “Well, what do you know? It worked.” He sat there, looking at the cracks. She came over and whispered, “It looks fine. They give it some character.” He looked at her, his face showing his disappointment. “I wanted it to be perfect.” he said. “It’s beautiful,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek. “Nothing beautiful is ever perfect. You taught me that.” He smiled and dabbed a tear from the corner of his eye. Straightening himself up he looked at her. “Help me with the finishing touches?” he asked. “Really?” she said. He hadn’t let her touch his masterpiece once since he started. Instead, it was her job to hand him his tools and paint and provide a steady supply of tea.
He moved his stool over as she pulled hers close and sat down. They each took a brush and began to put on the final touches of colour. “Why so much blue?” she asked, chewing on her lower lip as she applied a touch of copper to a section on the bottom. “Why not purple, or maybe pink. Pink’s a nice colour.” “There’s other colours in there,” he said, touching up a spot with his paintbrush. “I like blue. There’s green too, and a bit of white.” She sat back and took a look. He was right. There was a lot of colour, if you knew where to look. A few hours later they finished. They both sat back and admired their work. “Well, that took longer than expected,” she said, working out the cramp in her fingers. “You helped me make it perfect,” he replied, giving her a smile. The two of them stepped back to get a better look at the finished product. “It will need some time to dry,” he said. “And it’s going to need some more additions before too long.” “Well, I think that you should be proud of yourself Dad,” she said, slipping her arms around his waist. “It looks beautiful. I think that Mom will love it.” He looked at her, his smile mixed with pride. “You know what kid? I think that she will too.” He returned her hug, then headed towards the workshop door. “Hungry for some lunch?” She nodded, looking at the masterpiece one last time. “What are you going to call it?” she asked, as they headed out. He stopped and looked back.
“I think that I’ll call it Earth.” He replied, as he closed the door behind them.
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