Sorry I'm late again. Sigh. But I'm back. And Happy (somewhat belated) Thanksgiving! I'm thankful for Beaufale, sarahmichellegellarfan1, Scottish Celtic Spirit, classicmovielover, and BellaVision, who reviewed. I'm also thankful for my silent readers, too(:
"So, how are your sewing skills?"
"Well, um, I've done needlework with Mother, but nothing more than the stitching on a pillow."
She quickly grabbed a hold of one of my hands and examined them intently. She stared at the back of it before flipping it over to study the palm. "Soft," she said. "From first class?" I nodded, but I didn't think she saw. "Your hands are too smooth to be from any other…" She patted my hand and then dropped it. "You're trainable, but I'm not sure about your experience."
"Let me try working here for two weeks. Please," I added hastily. "You don't even have to pay me during that time." I quickly wondered if that was a bad mistake. Two weeks I wouldn't be making money off of.
"Two weeks," Marge agreed. "You start tomorrow. Be here no later than six o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Thank you so much."
"Come on, Cora," Marge said, no longer addressing me. "I have cookies." I didn't know whether to follow or stay out here and wait.
..~**~..
I didn't get much sleep that night. I was worrying about the job, afraid I would be horrific at it and not last past the two weeks and even simply afraid I'd oversleep and miss the offer all together. I rolled out of bed at four thirty. There was no shower in the apartment, so I just washed my face in the sink. I pinned my hair up and, having no other dress to change into, went into the next room to wake Cora up. She sat up groggily, only moving her limbs enough to change clothes. I left a note in my apartment, incase Harold visited and there was no one to be found, and with Cora in my arms, headed down to Marge's shop.
I was fifteen minutes early. I couldn't see Marge through the windows and she didn't hear my knocks, so I let myself in. The door was already unlocked. "Hello?" I called out. It was dark in here with the sun unable to shine around the tall buildings outside. The place had no electric lights. I wasn't sure if there was electricity at all. I hadn't seen any sewing machines.
"Rose, I'm in the back!" I heard Marge call. I followed her voice to a room that was hidden from customers visiting the shop. "Hello," she said upon hearing me enter the room. "I'm going to start you off with hemming a dress. The dress is on the counter, along with your supplies, so have a seat and begin." She still hadn't looked up at me, too busy with her own work.
"Do you have a place where I can set Cora?" I asked. "She's still not fully awake yet."
"There's a pile of scrap fabric next to your work station. I'm sorry I don't have anything better for her." She looked up now, her eyes filled with concern.
I located the pile of fabric and set the girl down. The pile was big enough where it might as well as been a large pillow. I placed my coat on top of Cora to make sure she was warm. The room was already cold as is.
I sat down at my seat. I stared at the dress for a few moments before speaking up. "How far do I take the hem in?" I asked Marge.
"Two and a half inches," was the answer.
I turned back to the dress. I had nearly no idea what to do first. Sure, I had watched other seamstresses do the same to my own dresses, but how often had I paid attention to their task? As long as the job was done, I was okay.
"Flip the skirt inside out," Marge said. She had noticed my hesitation. "Fold the end over, pin it, and sew. It's simple."
I did as she said. I measured out two and a half inches to flip over, but I wasn't sure if it was exact. Did it have to be extremely precise? I pinned a pin into the fabric, making sure they were spaced with a few inches between each one. I had remembered this part of it from back when…from my past. By the time I had finished pinning the dress, Cora had woken up. She leaned against the wall, humming to herself.
It was time for the sewing now, the part I was most nervous about. "Marge, do you have a…sewing machine, perhaps?" I asked.
"I do not. I'm savin' for one, though, however long that will take me." I sighed. How would I do this without a machine? It was the only way I had seen it done. Needlework, I thought. I grabbed some thread that was the closest shade of red I could find to match the dress. It took several minutes to do that task alone. It was a few moments later before I could even actually thread the thread through the eye of the needle. I slid the needle through the hem of the dress over and over again. I pricked my finger a few times, drawing blood at least once until Marge offered me a thimble at lunch time.
By the end of the day, my slow, tedious work of hemming a dress was complete. I didn't ever imagine hemming a dress could take that long. And Marge had even completed three projects in the time it had taken me to finish one.
I examined the dress. It was crooked. Great. I had severely messed it up. It wasn't hemmed evenly and you could see where I had sewn, the thread sticking out like a sore thumb. I sighed. Marge walked over to see how I had done.
She didn't say anything at first and I couldn't read the expression on her face. "Practice," she said at last. The word was almost a sigh, and not a pleased kind of sigh, either. Marge muttered under her breath. I could only make out a few phrases like "simple task" and "loss of client."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Ah, don't apologize. I'll see you in the morning." She sat down at her desk, continuing to work on another dress.
"Goodbye, Aunty Marge!" Cora said, kissing Marge on the cheek and skipping along next to me.
"Goodbye, my dear!"
..~**~..
I slept a little bit easier the next few nights. My fear at being terrible at the job came true, but I was perhaps a little bit more comfortable at the job, around Marge. I didn't have to worry about being paid because Marge provided lunches, so I didn't have to worry about Cora and I being fed. I didn't have to pay rent for another month and a half. I thought things were going well.
After a few days, they weren't. I kept messing up the dresses that I worked on. Marge had to stay late to fix them herself. Halfway through the trial period, she made me do inventory. This job wasn't so bad. I just had to count the yards of fabric, see what spools of thread she was low on, and worked the cash register. I thought maybe I could do this, that she'd hire me to help her manage the shop. Apparently, that wasn't the case.
"Rose," Marge began as I was about to leave on the last day of the trial. "I really enjoyed your company and having you manage the store while I focused on projects was a relief. But, I don't have the money to pay someone for doing the jobs that I can do myself. I'm really sorry. However, I hope that you will continue to visit and bring Cora along with you." She smiled gently.
"I understand, Marge," I said. "Thank you for your time." I nodded and turned to walk out of the building. Cora followed along behind me a moment or two later, presumably after hugging Marge goodbye.
The next day, I looked for new jobs. Harold had given me the classifieds, knowing of my search. There was an ad from a nearby hotel, the Sutton Inn. They were looking for a paid. Perfect. Cora opted to stay home instead of come with me to the offer. I made sure she knew the rules of staying inside the apartment and not answering the door for anyone before I left. She said she understood and hugged me on my way out.
I walked the three-quarter mile to the hotel. The building was nice, I noted, but definitely not five stars. Had I still been trapped with my mother and Cal, we would have avoided the place at all costs, with its off-white paint and crooked shutters. At least they had a doorman, who opened the door for me and nodded in greeting. I nodded back. I made my way to the front desk. "Hello," I said. "I heard you were hiring and I'd like to apply."
"I do apologize," the clerk said, "but all our openings have been filled. The advertisement you saw must have been old. I'm so very sorry."
"Oh. All right. Thank you, anyways."
I applied for many jobs in the next few weeks. None of them would hire me because of my experience. Or, rather, inexperience.
If only I could make it in acting…
