The Fashion Designer

by Nancy Moser

  The younger man nodded at the elder and said, “Pa taught me everything I know.”

  “Come, boy. Let’s leave the ladies to their business.”

  Annie took Henrietta’s arm and lingered in front of the store where UNRUFFLED was painted in the center near the top of the window in block letters that had a bit of frill to them, making them slightly feminine. The words of the store’s motto were curved around the main word, like a cursive smile. “To see it in writing, up there on the glass…it makes it real.”

  “That it does.”

  “We did it, Henrietta,” Annie whispered.

  “That we did.”

  There was a crash from inside, ending their sentimental moment. They rushed in and found Sean righting a chair.

  “All’s well,” he assured them. “What do you think?”

  The men had finished wallpapering two walls above the white wainscoting, transforming the space from ordinary to exceptional.

  “It’s absolutely elegant,” Henrietta said.

  “I hope not too much so,” Annie said. “Our customer is the working woman who wants function and fashion. Not fancy.”

  Henrietta studied the paper. It was embossed, creating a three-dimensional effect. Its background was gold metallic, with a raised floral pattern colored in a rich leaf-green. “It’s not too fancy. Just enough so. Aren’t we espousing the fact that function does not have to be boring? If we want women to shop here we need to give them an experience that ignites all their senses and makes them feel pampered. It’s perfect. You and Vesta chose well.”

  Steven came over and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Very much so,” she said. “Where did you learn to hang wallpaper?”

  “At home. In case you didn’t notice, Mother has a penchant for roses on her walls.”

  Henrietta had noticed. Every room in Edna’s flat was adorned with a different rose-covered wallpaper. “You did that?”

  “I did.” He brandished a pasting brush like a sword. “Holmquist Papering, at your service.”

  Sean called over from his place on a ladder. “Culver and Holmquist, you mean.”

  “I suppose I’ll give you first billing. But only because your father gave us a discount on the supplies.”

  “Speaking of your father,” Annie said. “I expected him to be here already. And Vesta too. The display cases are due to arrive. Since he oversaw the order, he said he’d be here.”

  “Then he will be.” Sean stepped off the ladder and flicked the tip of her nose. “You worry too much, Annie-girl.”

  Henrietta spotted activity out front. “Ask and it shall be given…”

  They rushed toward the door and held it open as Richard directed the shipment of counters, cases, and racks for hanging. The store became a flurry of activity as instructions were given for their placement. To their credit, they had already decided on the proper arrangement.

  As Annie and Sean saw to the final tweaks, Henrietta stepped back and admired the work. Steven came by her side. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “More than good,” she whispered. “It’s like a dream being made real. Annie’s dream.”

  Vesta hurried to the door, letting more men inside carrying a parade of tufted armchairs, upholstered in gold velvet.

  “We didn’t order those,” Annie said, stopping the men. “The chairs we ordered were far plainer.”

  “Don’t you like them?” Vesta asked.

  “Of course I do. They’re lovely. But—”

  Vesta put a hand on her arm. “They are a gift from Richard and me. You’ve come this far; we thought you needed this extra dose of elegance for the fitting rooms and out here on the floor.”

  Annie hugged her tight. “You are so kind.”

  Vesta laughed. “And I have extremely good taste.”

  “You do.”

  The color of the chairs highlighted the gold of the wallpaper perfectly—Henrietta knew it was not by chance. She sat in one and ran a hand along the depth of the velvet nap.

  Touch, sight…

  “Annie? Remember I just spoke of igniting the senses of our customer? I think we should have fresh flowers in the store at all times. Their scent will be very pleasing and special for women who don’t have money to purchase flowers for their homes.”

  “As long as it’s not too costly,” Annie said.

  Henrietta respected that Annie’s mind was always on the bottom line, but she knew small details could make all the difference in a purchase. Back at her family mercantile, they were in the habit of offering a sample of fresh berries, preserves, or the latest skin balm to entice their customers to buy.

  Sean sat in a chair, testing it out. “Add a plate of sweets and I’ll shop here.”

  “So will I,” Steven said.

  Henrietta noted the four senses that had been accounted for. “That leaves hearing…perhaps we could have a harpist here, providing lovely background music.”

  Annie shook her head. “Perhaps during the opening, but it would be too costly to employ one every day.”

  She was probably right.

  “I could stand in the corner and sing,” Steven said.

  “You’re a singer?” Henrietta asked.

  “Not really. But I wouldn’t charge much.”

  “Good thing you’re busy teaching,” Henrietta said.

  Steven put his hands to his heart dramatically. “You wound me!”

  The front door opened and a thirtysomething woman entered. “We’re not open yet, ma’am,” Henrietta said.

  The woman shook her head, her eyes scanning the room. When they fell upon Annie she smiled. “There you are.”

  Annie’s eyes lit up. “Lena! How good to see you.” The two women embraced.

  “I heard through the business grapevine you’d rented a place. I had to come see for myself.” She looked around. “Very nice. The fabric on the chairs brings out the gold in the wallpaper.”

  Vesta beamed.

  Annie made introductions. The woman was Lena Malsin, the owner of Lane Bryant. Henrietta had heard Annie’s stories about the store and its maternity wear, plus stories about the amazing entrepreneurial talent of Mrs. Malsin.

  Lena stepped toward her, offering her hand. “Miss Kidd. So former mistress becomes collaborator?”

  “I help where I can.”

  “It’s good of you to come and support Annie’s dreams.” Lena looked around the store. “So many of us New Yorkers share a rags-to-riches story.”

  Annie joined them. “There are no riches yet. Just a lot of faith, hope, and hard work.”

  Lena raised a finger. “Three essential elements of business.” She glanced at Annie’s midsection. “How are you doing?”

  “Very well. The baby moves often.”

  “Always a good sign.” Lena smiled and touched her own abdomen. “Mine is active too.”

  “You’re expecting?” Henrietta asked.

  “My fourth.” She returned her attention to Annie. “I see you’re wearing one of my dresses.”

  “Lane Bryant is my first—and only—choice in maternity wear.”

  “I thought you were going to make some maternity dresses for your line?”

  “Really?” Henrietta said. “I didn’t know that.”

  “It was a thought. And I did make one. But I decided since you’ve been so kind and supportive of my venture, that I would not create competition between us.”

  Lena shook her head. “Piddle. Competition is the American way.”

  Annie shrugged. “I will send all expectant mothers to your store.”

  “And I will send them to yours once their confinement is complete.”

  The two women shook on it. Henrietta was impressed at their businesslike camaraderie. Annie and Lena were definitely the epitome of the modern American woman.

  The front door opened again and Maude came in, carrying a stack of flyers over her arm. She spotted Lena, smiled broadly, and greeted her. Only then did she look around
the store.

  “My, my. I leave to put up advertising flyers and come back to a finished store.”

  “Not finished yet,” Annie said.

  “Very nearly.”

  While the women discussed the store and business issues, Henrietta spotted Steven pulling a new piece of wallpaper over the makeshift sawhorse table in order to cut it. Since entering the store she had been dogged by Annie’s directive that she should declare her love. More than anything, she wanted to do it. Right now.

  But it was far from a romantic setting. Everyone was busy in body and mind. Yet if she didn’t say something now, she felt she would burst for the waiting of it.

  She’d already waited too long.

  She watched Steven make his mark on the back of the wallpaper and take a yardstick to draw a straight line for cutting. If she waited until the paper was slathered with paste, who knew how long it would be?

  “Steven? May I speak with you a minute?”

  He looked surprised but nodded. She motioned him into the back room where it was quiet. And private.

  He snuck a kiss, but when she didn’t smile…“You look so serious. Is everything all right?”

  Not a good start. She smiled through her nervousness. “Everything is very right. I just wanted to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  “I…” It was difficult to say in a cluttered back room, with people talking just a few yards away.

  He took her hands and spoke softly. “Etta. You can tell me anything. Anything at all.”

  She took him at his word. “I love you. I wanted to tell you I love you.” She took a breath to replenish herself. “I love you.”

  He laughed—which was not her first choice of reactions. But he quickly stopped himself and ran a hand along her cheek. “What brought this on?”

  It was notable that he had not said “I love you” in return. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, here, without warning. The time wasn’t right, I’m being presumptuous, and—”

  He pulled her close, peering down at her. “I love you too, dear lady. More than words can say.”

  The room and all other voices faded away. There was only Henrietta and her Steven.

  Until…she heard a rustling and saw Annie and Vesta standing in the doorway, grinning at them. She began to pull away from Steven, but he wouldn’t let her go. Instead he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Excuse me, ladies? May we help you?”

  “I’d say you’re doing a good job of helping yourselves,” Vesta said.

  He looked down at Henrietta. “She loves me.”

  Henrietta glanced at Annie, who winked. “I know.”

  “You know?”

  She pointed at Henrietta’s eyes. “It’s quite evident.”

  Vesta nodded.

  “I’d hoped but…”

  “Did you say something to her in return for her declaration?” Annie asked.

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “We love each other.”

  The two women applauded as Steven kissed her yet again.

  Maude heard a commotion from the back room. Was that applause? By the time she looked in its direction she spotted Steven and Henrietta coming out, arm in arm. They were glowing. Were they engaged?

  When they didn’t say anything, she assumed not but wouldn’t have been surprised. It was clear they shared strong feelings.

  She watched as Vesta sought out her husband and they exchanged a sweet moment. Annie found Sean, and they traded private words.

  Which left Maude standing alone. She had no one to share with. No one to turn to or express her feelings with, to make this experience larger through closeness and a common goal.

  A wave of regret swept over her, threatening to drown her. What would this moment be like with Antonio by her side?

  You’ve ruined all chances of that, Maude. Get on with it.

  Although she knew it was rude and self-serving, Maude needed to break up the couples’ tête-à-têtes or expire from regret and envy. “Excuse me? I came back to elicit some help in getting these flyers distributed. Any volunteers?”

  Everyone was gone for the day except Sean and Annie. While Sean cleaned up the wallpaper supplies—for he and Steven had finished their work to marvelous results—Annie wiped off the last display case. Tomorrow they would bring over the dresses—which were currently taking up every square inch of the workshop. She let her hand pause on top of the counter and closed her eyes. Thank You for taking us this far, Lord. Help Unruffled be a success. Help us be a blessing to many women.

  The bell on the door interrupted her prayer. A twentysomething woman with white-blond hair came in. She had something wrapped in a shawl draped over her arms.

  “I’m sorry, miss. We aren’t open yet.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were furtive. Why was she so nervous?

  She stepped forward. “I need to give you something.” She removed the shawl to reveal two dresses.

  The dresses that were stolen.

  She handed them to Annie. “My husband took these. He just wanted to give me something pretty—and they are that—but I don’t want such gifts. I saw the tag, and so I bring them back to you with sincerest apologies.”

  Sean came over to join them. “That’s very good of you.”

  She shook her head and avoided their gazes. “No, no. Not good. Not good at all.”

  Annie felt empathy for her and draped the dresses over a rack—their first dresses in the shop. “I know it must have been difficult to come here.”

  “Johnny said I was daft to do it. I already had the dresses. Let it be.” She glanced at Annie then cast down her gaze. “But I couldn’t do that. Even though times are hard…thou shalt not steal.” She took a new breath. “I’m sorry. And I know Johnny is sorry too. Or should be.”

  Annie had to smile at the final words.

  “He should be,” Sean said. “And perhaps through your right action, he will be.”

  On impulse, Annie removed the dresses from the rack and held them toward the girl. “Here. Take them.”

  She took a step back, as if not wanting to touch them. “No, I can’t.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head adamantly. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  Annie draped the dresses back over the rack. She admired the girl’s sense of right and wrong.

  “Actually,” the girl said, her voice cracking, “there is one way I would take those dresses.”

  “And what’s that?” Sean asked.

  “If I earned money enough to buy them.” She straightened her shoulders. “If you need help in the store, I would love to work here. I could wrap purchases or sweep up or go on errands. Whatever you need.” She glanced at Annie’s stomach. “I have a three-month old boy. I worked in a factory before having him, but Johnny says he doesn’t want me back there again.”

  “Who would take care of the boy while you work?” Sean asked.

  “My mother lives in the same building as we. So I am available to work. I want to work. We need me to work.” She looked at Sean, then Annie. “May I work for you?”

  Even though paying another employee would be a risk, Annie couldn’t say no. “You’re hired.”

  The girl beamed. “Thank you, Mrs….”

  “Culver.” Annie looked to Sean. “And this is my husband.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She bobbed once, in the way Annie used to do as a maid.

  “And you are?” Sean asked.

  “Birdie Doyle.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Doyle.”

  Birdie’s face flushed with pleasure and excitement. “When do you want me to start?”

  “Monday,” Annie said. “Come here around nine. We will be bringing all the dresses over then.”

  Birdie bounced twice on her toes, her blue eyes gleaming. “I will be here. Thank you so much. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Once outside, Birdie wav
ed through the window.

  “With that kind of character and enthusiasm, I predict she will be a very good employee,” Sean said.

  Sean and Annie sat at either end of the window seat in their flat. Sean rubbed her feet, the massage painful yet blissful. “I’ve never had anyone massage my feet before,” she said. “When I was a housemaid my feet always throbbed at the end of the day.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t alone. The Kidds should have provided a foot masseuse for their staff.”

  She thought of their newest employee. “Birdie worked in the factory while she was pregnant with her son. I’m guessing her feet hurt something awful at the end of her days.”

  “They probably did.”

  “I hope her husband rubbed them.”

  “I doubt it.” Sean took up her other foot and the pain-pleasure began anew. “The world is full of sore feet.”

  She closed her eyes to better enjoy the massage, but in doing so found her thoughts drifting to the necessity of work. Without work, people didn’t eat. Or pay rent. Or buy dresses.

  She opened her eyes. “Maybe we should lower our prices.”

  “What brought this on?”

  “Birdie. We need to make sure our customers can afford them.”

  “I think we’ve done that. You asked the models about the prices and they think them fair.”

  Annie stroked her tummy.

  Sean nodded at her action. “Have you thought about whether the baby is a boy or girl?”

  “Yes.” She’s a girl. Annie didn’t want to say more, because she assumed Sean wanted a boy.

  “I hope the baby is a girl,” he said.

  She could not have been more surprised if he’d hoped for purple hair. “A girl? I thought all men wanted sons.”

  He shrugged. “I do. Someday. But right now, I think a little girl would be a perfect addition to our family. Besides…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  She put her feet on the floor. “No, you don’t. There is no never mind. Tell me.”

  “This will sound silly.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I…when I refer to my family I want to be able to say ‘my girls.’”

  “That’s very sweet.” She took his hand and pulled him close enough to kiss him. “I think you’ll have your chance.”