The Fashion Designer

by Nancy Moser

  When all were satisfied and satiated, Lord Newley rose to offer a toast. “Our dear daughter Henrietta gave us a scare when she sailed to the United States on her own. Yet we have come to realize such an act took extraordinary courage.”

  Henrietta crossed her hands upon her heart. “Thank you, Father.”

  He continued. “Although we were distressed at first, we now see she made a wise choice in her journey, and in her choice of a spouse.” He looked down at his wife and reached for her hand. “We wish for Henrietta and Steven to have what we have, a match grounded in love.”

  Lady Newley kissed his hand.

  “What we didn’t know at first is that she had been inspired to make her bold choice because of the bold choice of another. Of Annie.” He smiled at her. “As our daughter is courageous, so is Annie.”

  He studied her a moment, and Annie felt ill at ease. Lord Newley had spoken few words to her and had never given her such scrutiny. Nor such a genuine smile.

  “When we gave you a job at the age of fourteen, we never imagined the hidden talent you possessed. And honestly, it would never have been discovered if you had not been audacious enough to run away.” He looked at Annie then at his daughter. “Two women who abandoned what was and chose to follow their dreams and discover their unique path.”

  “And love,” Henrietta said, squeezing Steven’s hand.

  Her father smiled. “And love.” He raised his glass. “And so I make a toast to Henrietta and Steven in honor of their betrothal. And to all their beloved friends who will stand behind them as they begin their lives together.”

  “Hear, hear!” Sean said as he rose from his chair.

  Everyone stood.

  “Skål!” Edna said.

  “Salute! Cent’ anni,” Antonio added.

  The sounds of glass clinking against glass was a delightful complement to the moment.

  Although Annie wasn’t certain about protocol, she felt compelled to say something. “If I may add one more toast, please?”

  “Of course,” Lord Newley said with a nod.

  Her mind raced to find the words, and then she remembered a moment with Sean, before they were married. “On the way to meet Vesta and Richard for the first time, Sean and I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. We stopped halfway over and looked at the river, toward the Statue of Liberty in the distance. We spoke about our dreams.” She looked at her dear husband. “And now my dreams have come true, for I have married a man I adore, I carry his child, and I am in the presence of friends who make my life complete.”

  Words of affirmation flittered around the table.

  Annie lifted her hand, needing to finish. “On that bridge, in that moment, Sean said he dreamt of knowing he made a difference.”

  “I said that?” Sean asked.

  Annie nodded, remembering his words as if they were spoken yesterday. “You said you dreamt of knowing there was a definite reason you were born, that you exist now—not a hundred years from now. You wanted to know God had a plan that would be fulfilled through you.” She felt her eyes sting with happy tears and looked at all those gathered around her. “Together we have achieved that dream, not only through our store but through the bond and love we share. We are meant to live now. We are meant to be together now. We are meant to be a family now. God approves of us.” She took a fresh breath and finished, “And so I thank Him and ask Him to bless us all and guide us toward our futures.”

  “To us!” Maude said.

  Sean leaned close and kissed her. “To us, Annie-girl.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Two Months Later

  February 1913

  Annie took the parcel from Birdie Doyle and handed it to a customer. “Thank you for your business, Mrs. Campbell. We look forward to seeing you again.”

  “You can count on that,” the woman said. “I believe this is my third visit.”

  Three visits and three dress purchases.

  The first time the copper-haired Mrs. Campbell had come in, Annie felt like they’d met before. Mrs. Campbell made the connection for her, telling her they’d met at Eleanor’s soiree, when she’d been expecting. At that time, Annie had steered her to Lane Bryant’s for maternity wear. That Mrs. Campbell remembered Annie and had sought her out for regular dresses was satisfying. Especially since she represented the posh set. Annie hoped she would start a trend.

  As soon as Mrs. Campbell left, Birdie let out a long breath. “That’s six sold this morning.”

  Annie marked the newest sale on a ledger so a replacement dress could be made as soon as possible.

  “They seem to like the new designs you came up with for spring.”

  “Helen’s gorgeous hats help. Speaking of, would you run down to her store and tell her we need three more to put on display?”

  “Gladly. It’s such a lovely day, I’m glad to get out.”

  Birdie had become quite the asset to Unruffled. She was always on time, had a good fashion eye in helping the customers, and was willing to do whatever needed to be done. It had been Birdie’s idea to hire an alterations girl, Rachel Meindorff—whose father ran Meindorff’s Shoes across the street. Rachel had been a customer early on but was very petite. All the dresses were too long for her. Rachel had bought one anyway, saying she was used to altering clothes. Since Rachel wasn’t the only one whose fit needed a bit of altering here and there, Annie had hired her part time. Besides being a skilled girl, she was sweet, and Annie often shared stories of alterations she’d made for Lady Newley and Henrietta.

  Rachel marked a hem of a dress that Edna had just sold as Vesta held out two pairs of gloves that could complete the ensemble. The banter between the women was a balm to Annie’s soul. Often, during free moments, she looked across the store and marveled at all they had accomplished. Everyone had a skill that was necessary for the store to succeed, as if God had anticipated a need and brought someone to fill it. He was the ultimate Boss who masterminded His business, watching over it with loving care. Annie couldn’t count the number of times she sent swift thank Yous heavenward each day. She could not have done it without Him.

  She felt the baby turn over in her belly and put a calming hand on it. Any day now she would be holding a child in her arms. She was ready to enjoy motherhood, knowing that the shop was firmly planted and in good hands. Another God-sent provision.

  Henrietta came into the store, her familiar clipboard in hand. That morning she’d stopped in at the new workshop space they’d rented—with Antonio’s help—and was in charge of setting up the additional sewing machines and cutting spaces. They now kept ten seamstresses busy, yet they had not let their original workshop space go for it provided a good centrally located space to meet and discuss new designs, create the patterns, and sew the mockups until they were fully approved and ready to manufacture.

  Annie wasn’t sure she could ever let the workshop go, for it had been at the heart of their entire venture.

  “How are things progressing?” Annie asked Henrietta.

  “Very well, all in all, though I’ve already had to let one woman go.”

  “Who?”

  “Mrs. Hiller.”

  Annie remembered the name. “You were worried about her skill level.”

  “It was that, but also her attitude. She was lazy, always late, full of excuses, and was a storm cloud hanging over the other girls. Even beyond all that, there was just something off about her that caused my hackles to rise.”

  “Then you did the right thing.”

  “I hate it.”

  “What?”

  “Sacking people.”

  “No one enjoys it.”

  Henrietta held the clipboard to her chest. “I know Father has trouble with it. Although he is lord of the manor, he is always cognizant that people need work to survive. He usually attempts to put them in another position, trying to find a fit.”

  Annie thought of her own father, who’d flit from one job to another back in Summerfield. No one ever had trouble sacki
ng Rufus Wood. By his theft, absence, bad attitude, and drunkenness, he gave them little choice. Yet in his eyes, it was always someone else’s fault.

  Setting her bad memories aside, Annie remembered a shipment that had come in, something that was sure to cheer Henrietta. “Look in the back. Something came for you.”

  Henrietta’s eyes lit up. “It came?”

  “It did.”

  She rushed to the storeroom, and Annie heard an exclamation of glee and paper ripping as Henrietta removed the outer wrapping. Soon after, she came out to the showroom, proudly lugging the heavy bolt of fabric.

  Birdie rushed to help, taking one end.

  “Over here,” Annie said, clearing a place at the counter. “Let us all see it.”

  Henrietta untied the strings around the fabric, and unrolled enough to let it drape in her arms. A lush charmeuse satin created luxurious highlights and shadows.

  All the women in the store gathered close—even the customers. Various renditions of “oooh” flit through the room.

  “I want to see the dress design,” Vesta said.

  Henrietta motioned to Birdie. “Would you go in back and retrieve my other clipboard, please?”

  A few moments later, Henrietta presented a sketch of her dress. It was a slim gown made of charmeuse, with long sleeves that had pearl buttons parading five inches up from the wrist. Over that dress was a fingertip-length sheer tunic with wider sleeves to the elbows. It was open in the middle, allowing for an outline of wide maline lace to extend around the neckline and the hem of the tunic. A draped charmeuse belt encircled the raised waistline, ornamented with a sprig of silk buds.

  “It’s beyond lovely,” Edna said. “You did an excellent job, Annie.”

  “Thank you. Henrietta had good ideas to start with. I just put them together.”

  “It’s as beautiful as any dress I ever could have ordered from the House of Paquin or Worth in Paris.”

  Annie felt herself blush but was pleased with the compliment.

  Henrietta pointed at the sketch. “In honor of the store’s name, you see I have no ruffles, and my veil covers my hair but not my face.”

  Annie laughed. “You are indeed an unruffled, unveiled, unstoppable woman.”

  Henrietta grinned proudly. “That I am.”

  “Maybe we should start a line of wedding dresses,” Edna said.

  Annie shook her head, adamantly. “Wedding dresses lend themselves to customization, which is not the Unruffled way.”

  Edna shrugged. “Never say never.”

  “That’s true,” Vesta said. “We never could have imagined having a second workshop, but now we do.”

  Actually, Annie liked the idea of having a few wedding dresses in their line. Simpler dresses than the gowns of the past with their ten-foot trains and hand-beading. There actually might be a market for it.

  Luckily, Maude burst into the store and set such daydreaming—and challenges—aside.

  “Ciao, ladies,” she said.

  Entering behind her were Antonio and the children. Their cheeks were rosy, their eyes bright.

  “How was your visit to the zoo?” Edna asked.

  Gela answered. “We saw an elephant that was taller than Papa.”

  “And a tiger,” Matteo said. “He licked his chops.”

  Maude drew him close, tickling his stomach. “That’s because you tossed him your sandwich, naughty boy.”

  Maude spotted the fabric and hurried to touch it. “Oooh.”

  Annie laughed. “That’s what we all said.”

  “Are you nearly done with the pattern for it?” Henrietta asked.

  “I’ve started making it in muslin, just to be sure. I don’t want to cut into this exquisite yardage until all the kinks are worked out of the design.”

  “Kinks? In my design?” Annie teased.

  “The detail on the sleeves needs adjusting. Just a bit.”

  Annie waved away her comments. “Have a good go of it. If anyone can create a gorgeous gown for our dear Henrietta, it is you.”

  Maude shared an odd glance with Antonio. When he nodded, she said, “You will soon need to design another wedding gown, Annie.” She held out her left hand to reveal an amethyst ring.

  The women each took a turn to see. “When did this happen?”

  “Somewhere between the elephants and the tigers,” Maude said.

  Antonio interjected. “I know it’s not the most romantic of proposals, but I’ve had the ring for two weeks, and there never seemed the perfect time, so when we sat on a bench to rest, I knelt before her and asked.”

  Maude admired her ring. “It is a proposal I will never forget.”

  Antonio drew her close and kissed her—accompanied by the applause of the ladies and the children.

  “When will you marry?” Vesta asked.

  “The sooner the better,” Antonio said.

  Maude interjected. “We are content to let Steven and Henrietta have their day. And ours will be less formal. Just a few friends and family.”

  Henrietta’s parents were planning a lavish wedding in New York, with many of the town’s elite invited.

  Matteo raised his hand. “I get to be a ring-bear.” He turned to his father. “Do I have to growl?”

  They all laughed and set him straight.

  Just then Sean came in, carrying a wrapped parcel. “Well, well, what a jolly store this is.”

  Maude thrust her ring toward him. “Antonio and I are engaged.”

  He kissed her cheek and shook Antonio’s hand. “Congratulations to you both.” He moved to Annie’s side. “I have my own surprise. Unwrap this.”

  Annie did the honors and saw a stack of Butterick patterns. But not just any patterns, Unruffled patterns.

  “They’re done!” Annie passed them around so everyone could see the designs come to life for the home sewer.

  “Look at our name on the front,” Edna said with awe in her voice.

  Annie ran her fingers across the lettering that matched the font on the storefront: BROUGHT TO YOU BY UNRUFFLED.

  Birdie studied the envelope. “To think that women across the entire country will know the name of our store.” She looked up, catching her faux pas. “Your store.”

  “No, Birdie,” Annie said. “You were right the first time. Our store. For we’ve all had a hand in—”

  Suddenly, Annie doubled over with pain, as her belly tightened. “Ahhhh!”

  They all stared at her, but only for a moment. “The baby?”

  “Sit, sit,” Sean said, bringing a chair close.

  She fell into the seat, grimacing until the pain eased. “That was a hard one.”

  “You’ve been having others?” Edna asked.

  “Off and on all day.”

  “You should have said something! We need to get the doctor,” Vesta said.

  Sean knelt beside her. “And we need to get you home.”

  She nodded. Although she’d tried to ignore the previous contractions, the intensity of the last one could not be denied. Its strength deemed the previous pain weak cramps.

  The knowledge that the pain would intensify terrified her.

  Antonio had rushed outside and returned, saying a cab was waiting to take her and Sean home. The men helped her inside and the cab pulled away.

  “It’s happening.” Annie looked into Sean’s eyes. “It’s really happening.”

  He kissed her gently. “Everything will be all right.”

  She had to believe him.

  For the next twelve hours, Annie’s world grew very small even as it expanded beyond her comprehension. Sean, Dr. Grant, and Vesta hovered just outside Annie’s realm of pain, a pain that teased her by its release then grabbed hold with new ferocity that consumed her.

  During the breaks in the agony—breaks that grew shorter and shorter—Annie lived in a dream world where her thoughts had no firm footing but swirled around her with hazy edges that were yanked into sharp focus when another contraction took hold. The only cognizant
thought that repeated itself was that she hadn’t expected the pain to be so excruciating. Labor indeed. It was torture. And she wanted it to end.

  Which it did in a frenzy of pushing. She could not have stopped the action had she tried, for the child demanded its freedom and would not be denied.

  And then there was release. A sudden lack of pain followed by a baby’s cry.

  With an intake of breath, Annie realized it was over. She’d done it! The utterly focused world she had visited slipped away under the bedroom door. The new world that was born along with her child unfolded before her with limitless borders, a portal of time and life and air and joy.

  “It’s a girl, Annie. A healthy girl!” The doctor held up a wriggling, angry being who seemed to question her decision to be born into this too bright, too chilly world.

  Annie’s throat grew tight with awe, and she held out arms that ached to hold the baby. Needed to hold her or die.

  Her. A girl. Just as she’d expected.

  “Just a minute or two and you can have her,” the doctor said.

  She heard a knock on the bedroom door, and Sean asked, “Can I come in?”

  The doctor repeated his words to the father.

  Annie was surprised to feel another contraction, but the doctor assured her it was normal. While he worked on Annie, she watched Vesta gently wash the baby nearby, speaking to it, smiling at it, loving her into the world.

  Annie took the moments given her and closed her eyes in exhaustion but also in prayer. Thank You for helping me through. Thank You for the baby’s health. Help me be a good mother. Help—

  “Annie, would you like to hold your daughter now?”

  It was a silly question.

  Vesta lay the baby in the crook of her arm, her tiny body wrapped in a white blanket.

  Annie gazed at her. “Oh…my darling child.”

  A wave of love beyond all love swept through Annie and over the babe, swaddling them together. Annie ran a finger along the baby’s cheek and her mouth moved in that direction, responding to her mother’s touch.

  Then Sean was by her side, his face glowing in wonder. He touched the child as if needing to confirm she was real. Then he kissed Annie. “Well done, Annie-girl. So very well done.”