Her mind had wandered again, much to her distress. This wasn't an easy project, especially for someone who usually limited her sewing to buttons and hems.
The first side of the stocking was ready to unpin, but as soon as she separated the two layers, Louise was devastated. Somehow the velvet had puckered, and the side opposite the salvage was a full inch shorter than it should have been. The satin had crinkled up, and the foot part was much too narrow.
“Have I ruined it?” she asked herself with alarm.
Perhaps it would still work, but she obviously had to cut the materials separately. She felt groggy from fatigue, but this had to be done. Repeating the process of pinning and cutting, she finally had four pieces to work with. The full extent of her mistakes hit as soon as she lined up the pieces next to each other. The pins had put something like a runner down the middle of the satin, and the first piece definitely wasn't big enough to be the lining.
Her first thought was to make the stocking without a lining, but the slippery material had betrayed her. The two pieces were so mismatched, they wouldn't be suitable for a stocking half the size she'd planned.
Hot, wet tears coursed down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. After all the trouble and expense of getting the perfect fabric, all she had was a pile of badly cut remnants. She just wasn't good at sewing. Her mother had made sewing look easy, but for Louise it was the Mount Everest of homemaking.
She put her head down on the table like a kindergartner at rest time and sobbed until sleep overcame her.
Crying penetrated her dream, and she woke up to see Eliot standing over her with a sobbing Cynthia on his shoulder.
“Wake up, darling. You need to go to bed.”
“The baby..”
“I'll feed her,” he said in a soft voice. “You'd better get some sleep in a bed.”
“Oh, Eliot,” she said, remembering the mess she'd made of the fabric, “I ruined the fabric. It was so expensive, and I cut it all wrong.”
“It will be all right. You can get more material,” he reassured her. “Use the change in the coffee tin.”
“We were saving that for new tires,” she protested.
“Ours will last another year. After all, we only drive the car in town. Go pick out something nice tomorrow, but tonight it's time to get some sleep.”
She hugged him and the baby and staggered off to bed, too tired to bother with her bedtime routine. When Eliot crawled in beside her, she was only vaguely aware of it. The next thing she knew, the weak winter sun was peeping around the edges of the curtains, and her husband was gone.
In the kitchen, she found a brief note on the counter: “Fed Cynthia at 5:30. Hope you can catch up on your sleep. Use the tire money to replace the material. Love to both my girls.”
He didn't have to sign it. She only wished he was there so she could tell him how much she loved him.
Friday morning Louise awoke feeling more upbeat until she remembered the ruined fabric. Somehow she had to find a replacement, but there was no way she had the time or the money for another trip to the center of the city.
Fortunately, Eliot would be home at noon to begin his winter break. If she knew her husband, he'd still spend time working in his office on campus. Students might take vacations, but their teachers had lots of work to do to get ready for the next semester.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, coming into their bedroom fully dressed.
“What time is it?” Louise asked, peering at the alarm clock beside their bed.
“Time for me to get to work, but I'll be home by noon.”
“Cynthia–”
“Has a full tummy and a dry diaper. She's actually awake and happy for the moment.” He leaned over and kissed her as she sat on the edge of the bed.
“You're a wonderful man,” Louise said with feeling. “You let me sleep while you took care of her.”
“You needed a full night. Anyway, it's a joy to hold our daughter in my arms, especially when she isn't howling like a banshee. And I am sorry about your material. But maybe you should wait until next year. By then Cynthia should be sleeping through the night.”
“Next year?” Louise stood. “I'm making a stocking for her first Christmas.”
“Louise, give yourself a break. There's no deadline on doing something nice for the baby. She won't know the difference.”
“That's not the point.” Louise despaired of making him understand the importance of her mother's tradition. “As soon as you get home with the car, I'm going shopping. You did say I could use some of the change we saved up for tires.”
“Yes, of course you can. It's not the cost of a little material I'm worried about. It's the pressure you're putting on yourself. Isn't the concert enough to keep you occupied in the little spare time you have?”
Louise clamped her lips shut. They so rarely argued about anything that she didn't know how to react. For a moment she worried that she was being too stubborn. But Eliot hadn't lost his mother when he was young. He didn't understand how much Louise had missed not being able to show her lovely daughter to her maternal grandmother. Her father had come to see Cynthia shortly after her birth, but his joy only made Louise mourn the loss of her mother more. She was determined to honor her mother's traditions in observing the birth of the Savior.
“I'll see you around noon,” Eliot said, leaving the room to put on his coat.
After slipping into her quilted blue robe, she sat on the edge of the bed until the door closed after him. The stocking wasn't anything to argue about. She was going to make one, and that was that.
The morning went quickly. Cynthia cooed during her bath, and Louise was almost sure she'd smiled, never mind that the pediatrician said it was only gas. She even managed to take a bath herself while the baby napped, although laundry was piling up.
“I'm home,” Eliot called out a little after noon. “How are my little women?”
“I left a bologna sandwich in the fridge for your lunch, and there are carrot strips to go with it,” Louise said, rushing to leave. “I only took a little tire money, so you don't need to worry about the stocking costing too much.”
“I wasn't,” her husband said, pursing his lips in irritation. “It's you I'm worried about. It would be much better if you took a little nap before the faculty Christmas party tonight.”
Louise stopped short with one arm thrust into her coat.
“The faculty party,” she said with dismay, hardly able to believe she'd forgotten all about it.
“Don't tell me it slipped your mind,” Eliot said as she nodded. “You really do need to get more sleep. It's totally unlike you not to remember. You even made cookies for it.”
“It's Friday, isn't it?” She felt like a bad wife, even though she knew her husband was the most understanding of men. “My days have blurred together.”
“You have a sitter lined up, don't you?” he asked mildly.
“Oh dear.”
“You don't?”
“No, but I'll call Maxine right now. If she can't come, I might not be able to go with you.”
He looked so unhappy at the prospect of going alone that her guilt doubled. She threw her coat on the couch and hurried to make the call.
“As luck would have it,” Maxine said, “I had a date, but he came down with Asian flu. I'll be happy to watch Cynthia.”
Louise hurried to tell Eliot the good news and apologized profusely for forgetting.
“Louise, you expect yourself to be perfect, and no one is,” he said in a loving voice.
“I'll set out your lunch before I go,” she said, not wavering in her determination to buy new fabric.
“I wish you'd use the tire money to buy yourself a pretty new dress,” he said as he sat at the table. “You haven't had one in ages.”
“That's because I was pregnant,” she was quick to point out. “But I can still get into my blue jersey, and it will look nice with the silver necklace you gave me last Christmas.”
&
nbsp; He shook his head indulgently. “You're beautiful, no matter what you wear, but I still wish you'd do something nice for yourself instead of worrying about a stocking our daughter won't even notice yet.”
That was her cue to leave, and she did so without further comment. She loved her handsome husband with all her heart, but today he was annoying her.
Even with the car and a fair amount of tire money, all in change, she didn't want to go far from home. Her best bet was a small shopping area a couple of miles from their apartment, but the selection there was disappointing. Two elderly sisters owned the shop, which sold everything from bulk candy to bedroom slippers. In fact, Louise couldn't figure out exactly what kind of store it was, but they did have a few bolts of material in a back corner.
Fortunately, the sisters had stocked up on Christmas prints. Unfortunately, they were mundane compared to the gorgeous fabric Louise had ruined. It didn't take long to make up her mind. There was really only one she considered worthy of her daughter's stocking. It was a red quilted material with a Christmas tree pattern. Toys were scattered throughout the design, and although she wanted Christmas to mean more than gifts to her daughter, it would have to do. The best thing was she wouldn't have to line it.
Mildred, the older sister, cut the fabric with the precision of an engineer, cutting it so slowly Louise want to grab the scissors from her and finish the job herself.
“Isn't this the cutest pattern you've ever seen?” the plump little shopkeeper asked. “If it doesn't all sell, I think I'll make some potholders for my brother's family. He has four grown children and seven grandchildren. Maud and I never married, you know, but we've enjoyed our nieces and nephews so much.”
Louise smiled and made polite conversation, but inside she was seething with impatience, so much so that she hardly recognized herself. Was this what they called postpartum blues? If so, she had a raging case. At least it wasn't the flu.
When she got home, Eliot was walking the floor with Cynthia, unsuccessfully trying to quiet her.
“You look exhausted,” Louise said, remembering how he'd let her sleep as late as possible. “Take a nap. You'll enjoy the party more if you do.”
For once he didn't try to be noble and refuse. “Thanks, I think I will,” he said. “Can the laundry wait until tomorrow? I'll take it to the Laundromat so we don't have to hang it in the musty basement.”
He didn't ask to see her fabric, even though the sisters' flaming pink shopping bag was too obvious to overlook.
In spite of her best intentions, the afternoon flew by without an opportunity to take the cloth out of the shop's sack. She tried hard to keep Cynthia quiet so Eliot could get some much-needed sleep. It was nearly five when he woke up, and she had yet to give any thought to supper.
“None for me, I think,” he said when she asked what he'd like. “They always have enough appetizers to more than make up for a missed meal. It's the only chance I get to eat my fill of things like shrimp and fondue.”
Somehow Louise had forgotten to eat lunch, so she had a quick bowl of cornflakes to hold her over until the party. By the time Maxine arrived, she felt somewhat festive in her favorite dressy dress, although a trip to the beauty parlor would've been nice.
Even though she'd been to a number of faculty gatherings with Eliot, she was always a little edgy at their parties. It was hard to forget that some of the partygoers had been her instructors not too many years before. She tried to appear poised and confident, but inside she was a churning mass of nerves as they made their entrance.
Fortunately, she'd worried for nothing. Several of the younger faculty wives took her in tow, and she enjoyed their conversation, especially comparing notes on their babies.
“My Sally finally slept through the night,” a pretty brunette mother said. “I thought they'd have to put me in a room with padded walls if I didn't get a night's sleep soon.”
When the party was over, Louise felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. She wasn't the only mother struggling with a colicky baby and the busy Christmas season.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Eliot asked on their way home.
“Yes, I did,” she admitted. “After Christmas I may get together with a couple of other new mothers. It would be nice to share our experiences.”
When they got home, she wasn't surprised to see Maxine rocking the baby.
“Was she terribly fussy?” Louise asked with concern.
“Let's just say I didn't have time to open the book I brought,” her friend said. “But it's fun to spend an evening with your darling daughter.”
Maxine always refused payment, but Louise made a mental note to do something nice for her in the future. By the time they'd said good-bye, Eliot had put Cynthia down for the night and was in the bedroom getting ready for bed himself.
“Coming, sweetheart?” he asked, appearing in the open door in his pajamas.
“I just want to lay out the material first. Get a head start on tomorrow.”
“Working late at night didn't work out so well yesterday.” He said it in a kind tone, but it hurt to be reminded of the way she'd ruined the lovely velvet and satin.
Much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right. She wasn't very good at sewing, and the quilted material could pose some problems. At least she had the weekend to work on it. Certainly she'd have time then to make a very nice Christmas stocking.
Louise knew she had to get up Saturday morning, but her eyes felt stuck shut. As far as she could remember, Cynthia had slept in two-hour blocks of time, which meant being up with her a large part of the night. Why did her child need so little sleep?
Pulling the covers up to her chin, Louise wondered what time it was, but didn't care enough to look at the bedside clock. She did notice Eliot wasn't there. Was he taking care of their daughter so she could sleep in? If so, she didn't want to disappoint him by getting up.
“Good morning, Mommy,” he said in a cheerful voice that was the opposite of her mood. “Look who's here.”
He laid a contented Cynthia beside her on the pillow, and Louise forgot her rough night. Her heart swelled with love for the beautiful new person God had put into her care, and she was a little ashamed of herself for being grouchy about her interrupted sleep.
“Isn't she the most adorable baby you've ever seen?” she murmured, touching her daughter's soft cheek with one finger.
“Let me think,” Eliot teased. “My second cousin Annie's third baby was pretty spectacular, but she was born with the hair of a baby monkey.”
“You're terrible!” Louise sat up and cradled Cynthia, taking care to keep her swaddled in her blanket.
“I hated to wake you,” he said, “but the dean asked if I could stop by his office this morning. He has some questions about the class schedule for next semester.”
“You're supposed to be on winter break,” Louise protested. “And it's Saturday. Couldn't he just ask you on the phone?”
“Apparently not,” Eliot said. “But I probably won't be gone long. Actually, I have a few things to ask him. I'll enjoy the break more if everything is settled for the next term.”
“I thought we could spend the day catching up on jobs that need to be done.” She knew it wasn't her husband's fault he had to go to the campus, but she could see her time for working on the stocking evaporating.
“Tell you what. When I get home, I'll take the laundry to the Laundromat. I hate to have you down in that dank basement when it's so cold.”
“I'd really appreciate that,” she said. “It would take forever for things to dry down there, and Cynthia's things would be stiff and musty smelling.”
“I'll put Cynthia in her bed so you can get dressed,” he said, lifting her from her mother's arms. “Don't worry. I'll get back as soon as I can.
Louise wasn't optimistic. The dean was a nice man, but he loved the sound of his own voice. Eliot could be tied up in his office for hours. It didn't seem fair when this was the first day of his Christmas vacation, but the
n, nothing was going quite as planned this year. She certainly hadn't expected to be called upon to direct the concert on such short notice, even though it was an honor to be asked.
After she had a quick breakfast of oatmeal and tomato juice—the only kind she had in the house—Louise felt reenergized. There was no reason why she couldn't do a little work on the stocking while her husband was gone. In fact, it might be better to work while he was out of the apartment.
Things didn't go quite as she'd intended. Her sister Jane phoned, and while it was always a pleasure to talk to family, Louise had a hard time getting back on track after their conversation. Then a young boy came to the door offering to shovel the front walk. She hated to turn down a child, but the scant snow covering hardly warranted the price he was asking. Besides, Eliot liked to clear it himself because his job didn't give him much chance for exercise.
“The best made plans of mice and men may oft times go astray,” she said, quoting one of her father's favorite phrases.
Cynthia seemed to sense her mother's eagerness to sew and thwarted it by being especially colicky. When Eliot did finally get home, she made a late lunch for the two of them and realized a trip to the market was imperative.
Her frustration peaked when she got two calls from choir members only minutes apart.
“I am dreadfully sorry,” Amanda, one of the older women in the group, said. “My daughter and son-in-law are both down with this nasty flu that's going around. I have to go to Cleveland and help them out with their three children. I'm almost sure I won't be back for the concert. I'll probably just spend Christmas with them—if I'm fortunate enough not to catch their bug.”
“I'm terrible sorry,” Louise said, assuring her it was the right thing to do.
Tales from Grace Chapel Inn Page 10