Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing (38 page)

“I’m crying because I’m happy
and
sad. Remember when you said I never knew the feeling of losing someone? I do. I feel it right now. But at the same time, I’m happy for you. As much as I want to stop you from leaving, I want you to go, because I know what it’s like to go after a goal, a dream, whatever you want to call
it… and try to conquer it. I just came off of that, and as much of a catastrophe as it was, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you, Scarlet. Let’s try our best to make it work. Who knows what will happen in the future. Maybe our lives will line up again. I’ll always be there for you, and wherever I am you are always welcome. Don’t think of it as losing a boyfriend, think of it as gaining a vacation.”

She sniffled and snuggled as close to him as she could. “And if you should ever need me, remember, I’m only one ripped pocket away.”

*   *   *

Scarlet sat relaxed, eyes shut, and let her body melt into the curve of her backyard’s garden swing. She tuned in to the sound of chirping birds, the clean scent of citrus trees, and lightly pushed her feet against the dry winter grass to keep the movement going.

Scarlet had plucked every petal she could from the life of Daisy de la Flora, and like Rosa had told her, and like Marco did with Michael, it was time to let go. She still wondered about Daisy’s mysterious car crash. Maybe someday after she felt settled into her new life, she would research it. Until then, she would just have to live with the mystery.

Tuesday night after she returned from Marco’s, Scarlet’s brother, Charles, helped her tidy up her house. She didn’t talk much, but she asked him to pack everything up in her sewing room and donate it to a local women’s shelter. Charles, convinced she would eventually change her mind, simply straightened up the room, replaced the cover on her sewing machine, shut the light, and closed the door. She cooked him a late dinner and they talked about job opportunities. Charles hadn’t been kidding when he said his boss would hire her as long as
she submitted an official résumé. She opened her Mac laptop and finished it right there.

CAREER OBJECTIVE:
To obtain a position as a civil engineer with the opportunity to apply my knowledge of physics, project management, mathematics, and design.

She printed the résumé and handed it to Charles so he could turn it over to Human Resources at Metropolitan Advanced Systems in Tempe—$70,000 with benefits and a cubicle. Sure, she had sworn off sewing of any kind, but it wouldn’t hurt to whip up a few custom suits for the new journey in her life.
At least a thread of positivity still remained,
she thought.

By Wednesday afternoon Scarlet was called in for an interview and aced it. Her new boss, Franklin Reynolds—who reminded her of a younger Alec Baldwin—walked her around the office and introduced her to the staff. Wearing her hair in a simple updo and sporting a basic gray suit, Scarlet made the rounds and met her new coworkers.

*   *   *

Later that afternoon, Scarlet’s feet came to a halt and gripped the ground when she heard the lock open on her side gate and the screeching sound of metal on concrete.

“How ya doing, over there, Scar?” her dad asked as he cruised into her yard on his shiny orange touring bicycle.

“Fine, Dad, just soaking up the warmth of the sunshine. Feels good. I missed it last week. How are you? Enjoying your week off from the office?”

“Oh, yeah,” Manny said, nudging down the kickstand. “But it’s better when I can hang out with my daughter. Scoot over, kid.”

Scarlet slid to the end of the swing, and her dad moaned for his back and then sat too.

“Monday’s the big day, huh? You ready?”

Scarlet let her head fall on her father’s shoulder. “Yes, more than ever. I’m finally a bona fide civil engineer—er, Monday I will be. I’m actually looking forward to it. I feel like my slate has been scrubbed clean and I’m ready to get it all messy again.”

“Good for you,” he said, rubbing her head like a champ. “But who are you trying to convince? It’s your dad you’re talking to. It’s OK, Scarlet, not to know what is going to happen in your future, and it’s OK not to always be in control.”

“Why are you being so understanding now? I could have used this pep talk way back when.”

“It wasn’t the fashion career that turned us off, it was the fact that you excluded everything and everyone who loved you. Everything was one-sided, and you wouldn’t listen to any of our advice. What have I always told you?”

“ ‘To achieve success, we must strive for balance in all we do,’ ” she recited. “You know, it wasn’t really about the fashion career for me, either. I was just tired of being babied. I wanted to prove to all of you that I didn’t need to follow a pattern that was already cut for me.”

“I get it,” Manny said as the swing slowly swayed. “You proved it over and over, Scarlet. We all noticed your skills and talents ever since you were a toddler. Do you remember that Fisher Price dollhouse you got for Christmas when you were five? You got mad because no one would assemble it for you?”

Scarlet chuckled and nodded. “Yes! I put it together myself! You guys were too busy watching the football game. I was so mad.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Everyone in this family is left-brained, except my mother, who came out very creative and artistic. But
you? You are both. You can design a house and decorate it too. Your brother and sister can’t even use a felt pen without freaking out. You’re capable of anything.”

“Anything?” Scarlet offered. She poked her finger into his arm. “I have always wanted to learn the ukulele.”

“We’ll learn together, mija, how’s that?” Manny said as he demonstrated the Rosie the Riveter fist-pump. “And don’t worry about that Johnny Scissors slimeball; my lawyer will take care of it.”

Scarlet shrugged. “Whatever happens, happens. I set my goal, I reached it, and I have a whopper of a story to tell to my grandkids someday.”

Scarlet and her father swung in silence for a moment, then she let out a small laugh. “Funny how in the end, it was the same. They had a pattern cut out for me too, and I didn’t want to do it
their
way either.

“At least I can say I tried. I just couldn’t go along with their plans, Dad. I could have been an overnight sensation. It took all my might not to sign those contracts. Fashion is even more cutthroat than it is in the movies. One week aged me ten years. I bought my first jar of Oil of Olay this morning!”

A few more moments of silence passed between them, broken only by an annoying mockingbird. At least, at first.

“Scarlet!
Scarrrlet
…” Olivia’s robust, husky voice floated over the fence and into the yard.

“I’m back here!” Scarlet yelled. “She’s a friend from my patternless sewing class,” she told her dad. They heard the gate screech open, and watched Olivia, Mary Theresa, Stephanie, and Jennifer hustle down the pathway toward Scarlet.

“Where the hell have you been? You haven’t returned any of our calls!” Olivia scolded.

Scarlet jumped up from the swing, altered by the anguish on all their faces and the emergency inflection in Olivia’s voice.

“I’m sorry, I turned off my cell phone. Everything went haywire in New York, I just needed some time to decompress….”

Mary Theresa pushed herself up front and gripped Scarlet’s arms. “Joseph called. Rosa is sick,
really
sick. She’s in New York City, that’s where she lives. He booked us flights to get out there to say our good-byes. We’re all going tonight. You have to come with us, Scarlet!”

Scarlet twisted around to face her dad. “I promise I’ll be back in time for work on Monday.”

He leaped up and headed to the house. “Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

T
welve hours later, the women were riding in the back of a black Town Car that Joseph had waiting for them at John F. Kennedy Airport. Between the long plane flight and the ride into the city, Scarlet told the group all that had happened at House of Tijeras.

“House of Terror is more like it,” Olivia snapped. “Johnny Scissors needs to go down. He can’t take all your good work away just because Daisy is his aunt.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t. My dad’s lawyer is looking into it to make sure. At least it feels good to catch my breath; I’ve made it to bed by ten p.m. almost every night this week. Sleeping is underrated. Except now that Rosa is sick, I don’t know if I’ll sleep until she gets better. As it is, I go to bed praying for her every night.”

Jennifer, who had never traveled beyond Arizona, perched her forehead against the window and admired the East Coast scenery as it flew by during the ride. Stephanie worked on her new hobby, knitting.

“I’m glad my mom let us come. I miss Rosa. It’s weird how she didn’t even tell us good-bye,” Stephanie said, all of a sudden frustrated with her stitches. Olivia stretched across the seat to help her.

“When a woman is sick… terminally sick, she doesn’t want to see anyone except her family,” Mary Theresa said. “It was mandatory for her to get away immediately to receive the medical attention required. I’m in awe that Joseph went out of his way to bring us here. I offered to pay, but he refused. He sounded pretty grim.”

Scarlet put her hand over her heart. “Please don’t say anything like that. We’ll know how bad it is when we see her.” Scarlet moved to the driver’s window. “Do you know how much longer?”

“Ladies, we’re here,” he said, pulling into a charming neighborhood. Old-growth trees loomed over antique buildings, casting shadows on the cars lined up on the streets. The driver opened the door, and Scarlet descended from the vehicle, taking note of the surroundings. Two brownstone buildings that sat side-by-side had been converted into one large mansion.

“I knew I should have worn pantyhose under these dress pants,” Olivia mumbled, right on Scarlet’s heels. “This is a fancy area, isn’t it?”

Within several minutes, a petite maid named Enid escorted the ladies inside the building. They were so astonished at the magnitude of the property that none of them noticed the
DE LA FLORA
name plaque nailed above the entrance.

The women huddled close together, feeling small as they walked through a series of hallways in the monstrous-sized house.

A mixture of striped and patterned wallpaper lined the main entryway, which spilled into a room of wall shelves and curios cluttered with worldly knickknacks, paintings, and photos. Scarlet’s favorite was a room they passed that thumped with an old-time burlesque theme with feathered-boa lampshades, shimmering sequin pillows, and flocked window treatments.

Stephanie loved that a white cockatiel graced the corner of
the entrance to the grand room, like a feathery guardian ready to squawk at any unsuspecting visitor. She sniffed to capture the sweet aroma of flowers that danced through the air.

“Well, hey there,” Rosa said, waving both her hands. “You made it. Welcome to my home.”

“Rosa!” they all squealed, happy to see her on her feet, boiling water for tea and not in a hospital bed on life support. After a few minutes of hugs and small talk, the elderly woman guided them into the eccentric palace that she called her bedroom.

Enid helped Rosa climb into bed while Reyna fluffed and propped up the pillows by the headboard so Rosa could rest on them. Enid then suggested that the ladies have a seat on the sofas next to Rosa’s bed.

“I had the staff bring these over so we can catch up,” Rosa said, motioning to the cozy set of black velvet couches and a coffee table that appeared freshly arranged. “I’m conserving my energy; I hope you don’t mind if we hang out here.”

The women graciously agreed and switched places on the couches until they felt comfortable. Joseph came in with a tray of coffee and cookies and offered them one at a time.

Stephanie recoiled. “Those look mighty yummy, but to be honest, I’m a little freaked out by all of this. Rosa, are you a millionaire or something? And how are you feeling?”

“I’ve seen better days,” Rosa said, ignoring the first half of the question. “Thank you for coming. It means so much to me.”

Scarlet, who hadn’t taken a seat yet, froze behind the couches, bit her thumbnail, and thought hard. She had whizzed through all her statistics classes; she should have solved this puzzle long ago, but all the chiffon and rhinestones of her Daisy obsession smogged her noggin.