Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing (37 page)

BOOK: Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing
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“What do you want it to be?” he asked.

“Well, we’re happy without you. I mean, we miss you, but whatever you decide, we can handle it,” she said. “If you want to pop in and out for the kids’ sake, we should set up a schedule.”

“I don’t want to pop in and out. I would never be the kind of husband or father who only pops in and out,” he said. “My
family always comes first.” Hadley leaped to the floor and knelt at Mary Theresa’s knees. “I’m sorry I went away on such short notice like that. My brother had been dangling this gig in front of my nose for months; I guess I was waiting for a reason to take it. I snapped like you did with the Coltrane record, just in a different way.”

Mary Theresa didn’t know what to think. “If you were serious about the job, you should have told me when he brought it up, and we could have discussed it further. I would have had an open mind.”

Hadley rolled his head on her knees. “Sweetheart, I did bring it up. You wouldn’t even hear me out.”

Mary Theresa’s mind raced back in time. Sure enough, she remembered the times he had mentioned it, and how he said he missed working. If only she had taken it seriously.

“Stop those negative thoughts,” he said. “They’re so strong, they’re bouncing off my forehead. We’re both at fault. What is that saying? ‘A good marriage is the union of two good forgivers’?”

“Ruth Bell Graham,” Mary Theresa whispered through a short smile. “So… did you accept the full-time job?” It was the question stenciled in her mind ever since he’d arrived. No matter what the answer was, she would cope with it. If he turned it down, she could finally let her mind and spirit relax. If not, well, at least they would be civil with each other for the sake of the children.

“Yes. I accepted.”

Mary Theresa bit down on her back teeth and gripped the piping on the couch for support. For a second there, she actually thought—

“Is it time, Daddy?” Lucy asked sneakily, peeking through the space between the staircase rails.

“Shhhh, not yet, Lucy! You’ll spoil it!” Rocky said, shoving his hand over her mouth.

Mary Theresa sniffled and slowly turned her head toward the stairs. “You two should be asleep already. Hadley, I’m going to go tuck them in. You’re more than welcome to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Hadley sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, and waved the children over.

“No, they have school tomorrow,” said Mary Theresa, frustrated and somber. “Plus, I don’t want them to see us like this.”

By that time the kids had scrambled across the room and fallen into Hadley’s lap, giggling. Lucy was wearing the cotton dress with the embroidered flowers from that afternoon. Rocky chose wrinkly black slacks, a Lucha Libre kids’ T-shirt, and a clip-on tie. Hadley gave both children a thin stare and then a nod.

Rocky and Lucy stood side-by-side and handed Mary Theresa a small velvet box. “It’s for you, from Daddy, and it’s not a gift card!” Lucy said, presenting the gift on the palm of her hand.

Taken aback, Mary Theresa stared at the box.
He’s trying to buy me off?

“Daddy told Uncle Mike he wouldn’t take the job home so he wouldn’t have to take the palm to the spring anymore. Uncle Mike said, You don’t want to take the palm to the spring? And Daddy said, I want to take the palm to a continental at my home—”

“No, Rocky!” Lucy said angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re getting it all wrong!”

Hadley switched places with Lucy so he would be in the middle of the kids. “Mare, I told them I’d accept if they let me work from a local Continental Comfort Hotel here in town. They agreed. It’s nowhere as fancy as Palm Springs, but I don’t care. I’d rather be home.”

Mary Theresa parted her lips and lifted her shoulders in anticipation—and then she went for it and popped up the lid on the box to find a beautiful gold locket. Definitely vintage, trimmed in the tiniest diamonds she had ever seen. She flipped it over and read the engraved label:
DE LA FLORA
.

“How do you know about Daisy de la Flora?” Mary Theresa asked. Now she really felt blown away.

“My mom read your friend’s blog about how you’ve recently become a fan. Would you believe that locket used to be my grandma’s? My mom had it in her safe because she said it is worth a lot of money. Now it’s yours. I had it engraved.”

Mary Theresa shyly giggled and used her fingernail to unlock the clasp of the locket. One side showcased a family portrait from last Christmas, and the other read,
A HAPPY WEDLOCK IS A LONG FALLING IN LOVE
.

Hadley removed the necklace from the box, put it around Mary Theresa’s neck, and kissed her nose. “That’s us, a long falling in love.”

32
 

 

J
ust because Johnny Scissors had ripped all her dreams out from under her feet on Sunday morning, it didn’t mean Scarlet would leave New York City on a low note. As soon as she left Johnny’s penthouse, she went uptown to collect her things and then checked herself into a posh hotel. She made a quick call home to tell her mom and dad the gory details. They wanted to fly to New York immediately to collect their little girl, but settled for buying her a ticket home instead. Then Scarlet hit the streets for a marathon of sightseeing, eating, and shopping.

By the time her plane touched down in Phoenix early Tuesday morning, Scarlet couldn’t wait to toss her suitcases in her house, shower, and visit Marco at the record store.

When she finally crossed the shop’s threshold, she paused. Vega’s Vicious Vinyl looked as though it had been gutted. One wall had a row of paint splotches in blues and greens. All of the album bins were now black and clustered at one end of the shop. Even the concrete floor had changed—stenciled with different shapes of gold stars.

“We’re closed until mid-February,” she heard Nadine yell out.

“Nadine, it’s Scarlet. Oh my gosh, what happened here?” she asked Nadine, who was hunched under the empty storefront window, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the wood frame with a rag.

“A face-lift,” she said. “Check out the sewing room, you won’t recognize it either.”

“Hi to you, too,” Scarlet mumbled as she walked through to the other room, which now had crimson walls and marigold borders; it also had gold stars stenciled on the floor to tie it in with the record shop. The chandeliers remained, otherwise the space was a work-in-progress, too. She bent over one of the many boxes on the floor and opened it to find stacks of blank journals that had covers of trimmed LPs. Still baffled, she glanced around and noticed a rectangular glass box that appeared to be the register counter. She stepped over to see that it showcased colorful jewelry made from cut up record pieces.

Scarlet pointed to the earrings. “Those look like…”

“Yup.” Nadine said, tugging off her cleaning gloves as she looked down at them too. “Your David Bowie picture discs that you dropped here on Black Friday. A local trash-to-treasure artist used them. Clever, huh?”

“Wow,” Scarlet said as she stepped into the middle of the store, remembering where each of the worktables had been set. “Why did Marco do this?”

Nadine snorted. “Marco? He didn’t do it. I did. Didn’t he tell you?”

“What?”

“He’s selling me his half of the business.”

Scarlet felt her chest tighten. “His half? I thought he owned all of it.”

Nadine sighed and pulled out two black vinyl chairs trimmed in silver sequins. “Come on, sit. I’ll fill you in.” She went on
to explain how she and Michael had planned to open Vega’s Vicious Vinyl as half record store, half gallery of local artists. When he died, Marco came in as co-owner and they made it work, except that they never got the gallery portion going. Hence the available space for Scarlet’s class.

“It wasn’t until you came with your sewing group that I really saw the potential,” Nadine said. “I asked Marco if I could do this, I gave him a business plan and everything. The next day he came in and told me he was taking a break from the store.”

Scarlet eyes dulled as she searched around the air for answers. All of this information came so unexpectedly. “I’m sorry you lost Michael.”

“Thanks,” Nadine replied, hanging over the back of the chair and fingering the bright orange gauge in her earlobe. “Marco told me a little about what happened between you two. Whatever you said shook him up. He went to spend time with his parents in San Diego for a few days. It was good for him, for me, and for the store. He wasn’t ever really into this place. The only time he ever livened up was when you’d come in. He was too shy to talk to you; I used to rip his shirt pockets.”

Scarlet covered her mouth and laughed. “I can’t resist a repair waiting to happen.”

“I know. Anyway, when he came back, he told me he wanted to sell me his half so he could move on with his life. Not only that, he got his parents to co-sign on a business loan for me so I could remodel it and really give it a shot to be successful. I’d say Marco Vega is my hero.”

“He’s my hero too. Where is he now?” Scarlet asked.

“You’ll find him at his house. He’s showing it to some renters today because he leaves for San Diego next week.”

*   *   *

Within minutes, Scarlet raced to Marco’s. The tears flowed nonstop. She had to convince him to stay. She needed to let him know he had been right, apologize for putting her obsession for Daisy de la Flora before everything and everybody, and tell him she loved him. She pulled into his driveway, ran up to the door, and knocked as hard and as fast as she could. He finally opened the door, wearing only a pair of faded jeans.

His face lit up instantly. “You’re back! Come on—”

Scarlet couldn’t wait for him to finish. She pressed her hands up to his chest, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Without breaking away, he pulled her into the house and shut the door behind them. She grabbed his arms and dragged him to the bedroom to find only a futon on the floor. They tumbled down, pausing only for Scarlet to prop up her iPhone and set it to the playlist Marco made for her at Christmas. Within seconds they had peeled off their clothes and made up for lost time.

When they finished, tears streamed down Scarlet’s face. This time, Marco was the one to hold her face in his hands and wipe them away.

“I just came from the shop,” Scarlet said. “Nadine told me. Please don’t move. I’m sorry for what I said. I know Michael is so proud of you. You loved him so much. I was an idiot.”

Marco, still holding her face, kissed her neck. “Whoa, slow down. I want to hear everything about what happened to you.”

“None of that matters,” she said, shaking her head and kissing his hands. “I love you, Marco. I’ve known it ever since that day I stitched your pocket. If you move, I want to go with you. I have nothing going for me here anymore.”

He scooted up against the wall and ran his fingers through
her long hair. “It’s time for me to get on with my original plans before my brother died… and I need to do it on my own.”

She rolled over to face him. “What was that?”

He had never told her about life before Michael, only after.

“I was going to the University of San Diego to be an oceanographer. I was almost done when I dropped out to move to Glendale and help Nadine with the record store. I’m going back to find work and finish my degree.”

“Oceanography?” Scarlet repeated. It made sense. She glanced around his house. She had always been so busy searching for music-related items, she didn’t really think about why he had a seashell shadowbox on the wall, a big aquarium in his bedroom, or framed beach art in his bathroom. Even his office at the record store had a shelf with different kinds of starfish.

“What you told me in the car that day,” he said, stroking her neck with the backs of his fingers, “it made so much sense. That night I came home, depressed. But as the hours went on, I could feel the release of the guilt I’d been carrying around with me. After living in that grungy cave of a record store for so long, I’m ready to go back to the light of the beach.”

Scarlet dropped her face in her hands and sobbed. The past few months had presented the lowest of the lows and the highest of the highs and by this point she was too exhausted to keep her cool. Marco hugged her to his chest and rubbed her back. “It’s good, Scarlet. Don’t cry. You have helped me figure out something really important for my life, and I’ll always love you for that.”

BOOK: Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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