Britches Get Stitches

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Britches Get Stitches Page 16

by Elicia Hyder


  “Take your time,” Amy said. “We’re going to look around.”

  Kiara followed me to the back of the store. “How are you feeling?”

  “Still a little off but worlds better than yesterday.” I hung my dress on the coat rack.

  She pulled out its skirt. “Ooo, vintage.”

  I scowled. “I made this dress in college.”

  Her eyebrows lifted with a smile.

  “Oh, shut up, Kiara.”

  She laughed. “What are you doing with it?”

  “I need a dress for a party next weekend. Nothing in me wants to go buy one, and I don’t have time to make anything from scratch. I was hoping to pick your brain about this one.”

  “What kind of party?” she asked.

  “Derby banquet.” I smoothed my hand over the fabric. “What do you think?”

  Her head tilted as she stared at it. “You should go Bettie Page with it.” She drew a triangle on the front with her fingernail. “Maybe cut out the middle here to show a little skin, and add some red or white fabric around the collar.”

  “That’s a good idea. I wonder if I have time.”

  She looked me up and down. “I wonder if it still fits.”

  “Don’t make me fire you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  I laughed because she was right. I grabbed a box of pins from the shelf and my favorite pair of fabric scissors and dropped them into a bag. “I want to try to get it done ASAP, so I can start on all those orders tomorrow.”

  She handed me the notebook she was holding. “We’re going to have a few more. I’ve already done two new orders this morning, not including the ones that have come in online.”

  “Holy cow.” I flipped through the seemingly endless pages of the book. “I might have to bring in some help.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Yeah.” I grinned. “Maybe it will keep her out of the kitchen.”

  Kiara laughed.

  “I’m stealing this,” I said, picking up an old dress form that had once belonged to my mother.

  “Stealing it from who? If it’s not yours, then I don’t know who I’m working for.”

  I draped my dress over it, slung my bag of supplies over my shoulder, and grabbed the dress form and the dress around the middle. “I’m going to run this upstairs and then go to Milo’s for some coffee. You want any?”

  “I’ve already got some. Thank you.” She led the way back out to the store. “I’ll grab the door.”

  Outside on the sidewalk, I held the awkward half-mannequin around the middle as I punched in my door code. When I finally got the door open, I decided to sit it at the bottom of the stairs and tote it up later.

  Bodhi and I walked two blocks to Milo’s, a dog-friendly cafe that specialized in lattes and homemade organic dog treats. They had an outdoor ordering window for customers with dogs.

  I pressed the service bell. It was a chorus of barking dogs.

  The manager, Matt something, slid open the window. “Welcome to Milo’s. Oh, hi, Grace.” He looked down at my feet. “Hey there, Bodhi. Long time no see.” He leaned out of the window and reached toward my dog. “Shake?”

  Bodhi put his paw in Matt’s hand.

  “Good boy,” Matt said. He reached behind him on the counter and grabbed a peanut butter dog treat and tossed it to Bodhi.

  “Thanks, Matt,” I said as Bodhi gobbled it up.

  “Of course. What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll take a large hazelnut Americana with a splash of cream.” Just then, my stomach rumbled like a warning gong. “Maybe make that hot tea instead.”

  “What kind?”

  “Do you have anything with ginger?”

  He looked over the tea display behind him. “Looks like we have a green ginger peach.”

  “Perfect. Can I get that with some honey?”

  “Sure thing. Hot or cold?”

  I held up my free hand. “I’m wearing fingerless mittens. What do you think?”

  He smiled. “Hot it is. Anything for Bodhi? We’ve got a new Puppy Spice Latte this season. It’s got pureed pumpkin, full of vitamins and minerals, and it’s made with goat’s milk to help digestion.” He looked at the dog. “It tastes doglicious too.”

  Bodhi’s tail was whipping a thousand miles an hour. I scratched his head. “Sure. Sounds good. I also need a medium-sized bag of peanut butter treats.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s all.”

  Matt rang us up on his tablet. “That’ll be twelve eighty-two.”

  I handed him a ten and a five. “Keep the change.”

  “Thank you.” He reached into a large glass jar by the window, then handed me a cellophane bag of dog treats. It was sealed with a Milo’s sticker. “Don’t eat these all in one sitting, Bodhi.”

  “Thanks, Matt.” I put the treats in my pocket and felt my phone buzzing. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Jason. I tapped the answer button. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Hey, me, aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

  “Yes, I am supposed to be, but unfortunately, I’m wide awake. What are you up to?”

  “I’m at Milo’s cafe, down the street from my place. We just got here. Would you like to join us?”

  He was quiet for a second, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have asked. “Yeah. Let me throw on some clothes, and I’ll be right there.”

  I cringed with excitement. “OK. We’ll be inside. It’s chilly today.”

  “See you in twenty minutes.”

  “All right. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  “One ginger peach tea with honey and a Puppy Spice Latte for the Bodster,” Matt said, passing the drinks through the window.

  I hugged Bodhi’s cup against my chest, then took my drink. “Thanks, Matt.”

  “No problem, Grace. It’s good to see you again.”

  Bodhi and I took the second door into the cafe. There was a dog-friendly “Puppy Lounge” that was separate from the main dining room. There was a woman with a schnauzer and an old man with a black Lab. My tea wobbled as Bodhi tugged on his leash, wanting to greet the Lab with a butt sniff.

  I dragged him to a table in the back corner and put his latte on the floor by my chair. He began lapping it up before I even sat down.

  It was almost twenty minutes on the dot when I saw Jason walk into the main dining room of the cafe. I sent him a text message as he looked around the room. Do you feel like you’re being watched?

  He smiled as he texted me back. Where are you?

  I got up, walked over to the glass wall, and tapped on it with my fingernail. His face whipped in the direction of the sound, and he smiled when he saw me. He came through the door that connected the two rooms. “I should have known.”

  Bodhi joined me to greet him. Jason bent to scratch Bodhi behind the ears before giving me a hug. “Welcome back from the land of the dead. How are you feeling?”

  “So much better. I had a pretty great caretaker yesterday.”

  “I slept all day,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Not true. I was pretty worried about you last night because you didn’t sleep nearly enough. And look at you now, awake again.”

  “Sleep’s overrated.”

  “Do you want some coffee or tea?” I asked. “It’s the best in the village.

  “I actually drank two cups of coffee on my way over. If I have anymore, I might rattle right off this seat.”

  I picked up my empty cup. “Well, I’m all done if you want to go.”

  “Where to?”

  “I was thinking about walking down to the market and grabbing something easy to eat. I’m hungry, but I’m afraid.”

  “I can understand that. Let’s get you some toast and bananas. If that settles OK, maybe we can graduate to soup for lunch.”

  “That sounds great.”

  It was a three-block walk to the supermarket. “Why don’t you wait here with Bodhi, and I’ll run in a
nd get the stuff?” he offered.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re going to buy me groceries?”

  “Grace, I went through your cabinets looking for food yesterday. Unless you’ve been starving yourself for a while, you don’t buy groceries.”

  I laughed. “I get what I need.”

  “And today, you need bananas and bread. I’m going to pick out a couple of things for a soup that I make.”

  “You make soup?”

  “I told you, I’m a pretty good cook. Are you good to wait out here? I’ll hurry.”

  “I’m good.”

  He turned to walk inside, but he stopped suddenly by the door. “Do you have a pot?”

  I put a hand on my hip. “I’m not a cavewoman. Yes, I have a pot.”

  He winked. “Just checking.”

  There was a bench beside the street. I sat down and got a treat out of the bag for Bodhi. He sat by my feet to eat it. A few minutes later, a black car pulled up at the curb in front of me, and the back window rolled slowly down.

  Sylvia.

  “Grace, what are you doing out here? Have you gone homeless on me?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. Just waiting for a friend. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

  “Never celebrate it,” she said.

  That was surprising with as much as she went on and on about her granddaughter, and how badly she wanted the dress by Thanksgiving.

  “Oh. Were you able to give Alexandria her dress?” I asked.

  “What? Oh yes.”

  “Did she like it?”

  “Sure. Yes. Thank you for asking. We’ve got to go now. Miss Taylor is going to be late for her spa day. Goodbye, Grace.”

  I wanted to inquire more, but Sylvia was already rolling up her window. With a huff, I waved. “Bye.”

  “What was that?” Jason asked, walking out with a woven grocery bag. “Were you being propositioned?”

  “It was Sylvia.”

  “Oh. Did you ever finish that dress for her?”

  I stood and we started down the street. “Yeah. It was very anticlimactic. I think she hated it but didn’t want to tell me.”

  “Really? I don’t see that woman having a problem speaking her mind to anyone,” he said.

  “Maybe.” I really didn’t want to talk about it. I tried to peek into the grocery bag. “What’d you get?”

  He swatted my hand away. “Don’t you worry about it.”

  We walked against the wind back up the street toward my building. The sky was gray and blowing tiny balls of snow. “You warm enough,” Jason asked when I ducked my chin into my scarf.

  “No,” I said with a smile.

  He offered me his elbow, and when I linked my arm with his, he pulled me against his side. We walked arm in arm for the last two blocks. It was great. So easy. So comfortable. So close. As we neared my apartment, I realized I didn’t want the walk to end.

  “Looks like business is still rolling in,” he said as we passed by my store.

  I looked through the door to make sure Kiara had it under control. She did, as always. “Yeah. We’re going to be really busy for the next few weeks fulfilling a ton of orders.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Very good.”

  He looked at me sideways when we stopped at my door. “You don’t look so happy about it.”

  I sighed. “To be honest, since everything happened with Clay, it’s been hard to get excited about making stuff for other people’s kids.”

  “That’s fair.” He punched in my door code. “Have you heard anymore from him?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  Jason pulled open the door, then immediately slammed it. “What the hell?”

  I laughed and punched in the code again. “Jumpy, officer?”

  “I thought I might have to pull my gun.”

  I opened the door myself.

  “What is that thing?” he asked, looking at the dress form.

  “It’s a kind of mannequin I use for making dresses.” I picked up my dress that was draped over the top of it. “I’ll put this on it, and it will be easier to make alterations.”

  “Here. Take the groceries and you and Bodhi go on up. I’ll carry your fake person upstairs.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jason followed me and Bodhi up to my apartment. “That dress looks a little too big for your normal clientele.”

  “This is actually my dress. Our derby-awards banquet is next weekend, and I need something to wear.”

  “Derby awards? That sounds fun.”

  I nodded as I unlocked my apartment door. “I’m sure it will be. You could come with me if you want.” I was glad I wasn’t facing him; I’m sure my face was beet red.

  “When is it?”

  “Friday night at The Drunken Nun in East Nashville.”

  We walked inside and I flipped on the light. “I would love to.”

  I stopped and spun around. “You would?”

  “I would.” He grimaced as he set the dress form down in the corner. “But I have to work.”

  “Oh. That sucks.” Inside, my whole body slumped with disappointment. I bent and unhooked Bodhi’s leash.

  He took off his coat. “Will you ask someone else?”

  That was an odd question, especially coming from someone who had clearly taken dating off the table. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Not sure I like the idea of you going with anybody else.”

  When my back was turned to hang up my own jacket, I smiled. “Then maybe you should figure out a way to get off and take me.”

  He smiled. “I wish.” Carrying the bag of groceries, he walked past me to the kitchen and turned on the light. “While I make your lunch, do you want to find that movie we started yesterday? I’d like to finish it if I can stay awake.”

  “Sure.” I froze in the hallway between my bedroom and my living room. Where did he want to watch it? The day before it had been acceptable to lay together in my bed. But now?

  I stepped back into the doorway to the kitchen. “So, awkward question. Do you want to watch the movie in my bedroom again?”

  He turned around and chuckled. “It is more comfortable than your couch.”

  “What’s wrong with my couch?”

  “Nothing, but your bed is awesome.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I can keep my hands to myself if you can.”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that, so I laughed and carried the dress form into my bedroom. I put it by my sewing machine near the window, and then I found the movie we’d been watching on-demand.

  Cabinets opened and closed in the kitchen. “Grace, do you have a toaster?”

  “Er…” I said, slipping the dress over the mannequin.

  He laughed. “You don’t have a toaster? How do you cook your Pop-Tarts?”

  “Pop-Tarts, really?”

  “I love Pop-Tarts. What about a cookie sheet? I can broil the bread in the oven.”

  “Check the tall cabinet near the fridge,” I said.

  “Got it.”

  While Jason banged around in the kitchen, I started work on my dress. Using a tape measure and chalk, I outlined a triangle just below the bust, then I drew the lines on the collar that I would cut out for the new neckline.

  “Ready to try solid food?” he asked, walking through my bedroom door.

  My stomach growled at the thought.

  He carried a plate over and handed it to me. “Whole-wheat toast with a tiny bit of peanut butter and a sliced banana.”

  Bodhi was lying halfway under the sewing table, chewing on his rubber chicken. He got up when he smelled the peanut butter, no doubt. I moved to my side of the bed. Bodhi followed me and Jason walked back to the door. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

  “Water would be fine. There are bottles in the fridge.”

  Bodhi whimpered by my legs. I tore off a corner of the bread and tossed it to him. Jason returned with two bottles of water and put one of them on my nightstand
.

  I bit into the toast. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Try not to throw it up.”

  I smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

  When he finally stretched out on the other side of the bed, I handed him the remote. “The movie’s ready to go.”

  He moaned with pleasure as his head settled into the pillow. “This feels so good.”

  “It’s memory foam,” I said.

  “I’m so not making it through this movie again. If I fall asleep, can you check the chicken on the stove after a while?”

  “Sure. Do I need to do anything with it?”

  “It’s on low, so it should be fine. Just don’t let it boil over or run out of water.”

  “OK.”

  “But wake me if I am asleep.”

  “Absolutely not. You need to rest. You were up all night.”

  “Yeah, but I also need to go home and check on Mom at some point.”

  I kicked off my shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed. “Does she stay at home alone when you’re gone or at work?”

  “Most of the time. Sometimes her sister stays with her or takes her out. Like today, they went to a crafts fair downtown.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It is. They’re really close. And we have a home-health nurse who comes when I need her to. But Mom’s fairly independent these days. Especially since we had the renovations done to the house. She can get around a lot easier.”

  “Is she in the wheelchair always?” I asked.

  “Most of the time. She can get in and out of it now by herself, but it’s easier and safer for her to use it.”

  “Is your stepdad still in prison?”

  He took a long drink from his bottle. “Actually, he’s dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Heart attack about two years ago.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Clay.” He pointed at my plate. “Eat your toast. It’s better when it’s warm.”

  It wasn’t clear what exactly he didn’t want to talk about, his stepfather or my ex. Probably neither, I surmised as he started the movie.

  Once again, Bodhi hopped up on the bed between us, and twenty minutes later, he and Jason were both sound asleep.

  Eleven

  “So nothing happened?” Monica asked again the next morning. We were skating the park slowly because I still wasn’t feeling 100 percent. “You’ve had that man in your bed twice now and didn’t lay a finger on him either time?”

 

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