She stepped in from the chilly outside. In the air hung the smell of old wood. Light from a fluorescent bulb flickered above as it warmed up. She looked around his wood-shop. She found it oddly comforting as it made her feel his presence even with him days away. She ran her fingers across his latest creation of wood and resin.

His space was his studio, but together they would seek out the sources. She looked over a large driftwood piece on the wall. They had found it together. He carved it to the perfect piece for his space. A photo of that piece hung in her space, taken before they harvested it.

A stack of driftwood rested in one corner. Another corner had planks of oak, maple, and pine ready for the next project. Some smaller finished pieces sat drying on the work table.

She touched the router as she finished her loop through the workshop. It was one of her contributions to his tools which she had inherited from her father. She was thrilled to give it to him when they reconnected. Finally it might get put back into use.

She gave a nod to her Dad in her mind and then another glance to make sure all was in its place. She heard the whirr of an engine outside and turned to the door. A smile came across her face when she saw that familiar car pulling up the drive. Finally, he was home.