The cover art is the original sketch for Galinda's Popular dress, done by Susan Hilferty.
Even though she was wearing her glasses, Elphaba still squinted against the flickering candlelight in the back workroom. She had to get this stitch just right. It was for a very important client and the dress had to be perfect. She was hand sewing the hem, trying not to accidentally sew the fabric to the dress form. All of her concentration and energy was focused on not messing up a stitch or stabbing herself with the needle. The quicker she finished, the quicker she could finish up her store-closing tasks and relax for the night.
Lilies & Lace was a small, though very popular, dress boutique in Shiz, founded, owned, and run by Villy Doiir, a peach-skinned, thin woman in her early thirties, who always kept her long, wavy, copper hair up in a ponytail or bun to keep it out of her face as she worked. The two always had their hands full with orders and alterations. During rush seasons, namely before Lurlinemas, custom dresses were appointment only, but a few walk-ins always seemed to push their way through. Elphaba could tell that it drove Villy crazy to have to adjust schedules at the last minute, but the experienced dressmaker always held it together, greeting everyone with a smile and a professional approach.
"Elphaba! Elphaba, can you hear me?"
The green girl's head snapped up, her hand slipping and lightly pricking her finger with the needle. "Miss Villy, I –"
"What are you doing?"
Even in the dimmed room, she met the older woman's green eyes, glazed over by a cloudy film. "I was working on the linen blouson dress. The crimson one. It's almost finished."
Villy's hand slowly trailed up the wall and felt the light switch. "Why are you working in here with the lights off?"
She didn't have a good answer for that, having used the 'I didn't want the electricity bill to skyrocket' excuse too many times. She blew out the candle, sending the scent to her boss's nose, which wrinkled at the aroma.
"Elphaba, this isn't the reign of Ozma the Obscure. We're not in the Dark Ages. We have technology, namely lights. One of us should take full advantage of that." She slowly walked forward, her hand reached out as she approached the dress form she knew was there. Long fingers slowly examined the garment. "What else do you need to do?"
"I just need to finish the catch stitches on the bodice. They'll be hidden behind the flowers and they're easier to hand stitch while upright."
Her lips slowly curled upward and she nodded. "Lovely. Wonderful job, Elphaba."
"Thanks."
"You can finish it tomorrow. It's almost eight o'clock. You'll be alright tonight?" she asked, brushing stray wisps of hair from her face and fixing her ponytail.
She asked her that question every night, like clockwork, ever since Elphaba started working for her three years ago. And every night, her answer was the same. "I'll be fine, Miss Villy."
"Don't stay up too late."
Another phrase said like clockwork, this one secretly ignored. "I won't. I promise."
She nodded and went back to her office. Elphaba heard the sounds of her cleaning up and decided to do the same. She removed the measuring tape from around her shoulders and rolled it up, neatly placing it back on the desk. All loose pins went back in the pincushion, and the seam rippers were in a neat line. Fabric scissors went back into their designated cup, and thimbles and safety pins went back into their containers. She had always been a tidy person, but organization was even more important when working with the blind dressmaker. Everything had to have its special place and shouldn't be moved without her knowledge.
Villy finally emerged from her office, bundled up in her coat, hat, and gloves, her folded cane clutched under her arm. "Good night, Elphaba," she called, crossing the room to the front door.
"Good night, Miss Villy," the green girl called back.
The door opened and a blast of cold air hit her, making her shiver. Villy quickly closed and locked the door, trapping the rest of the heat inside. Elphaba quickly finished cleaning, flipped the 'open' sign to 'closed', made sure the door was locked before turning off all the lights. She hurried through the back room and up the stairs to her living quarters.
Her attic bedroom was a converted storage room. Though simple, it was bigger than her room back in Munchkinland. She had a smaller, yet nicer, bed, a dresser, and a very long desk, which she cluttered with her books, notes, and excess sewing patterns.
She remembered how Villy had been apprehensive about hiring her, especially when she found out how old she was. She had been desperate for help since her old assistant had moved to Quox to be with her aging parents, but didn't consider herself desperate enough to hire a teenager off the street. And she especially didn't feel comfortable letting her live in the shop, mostly because she didn't feel comfortable leaving a fifteen-year-old alone all night. She remembered assuring her how she was used to being alone and taking care of herself, and how responsible she would be. Villy had pondered the thought and, knowing she didn't have the room in her studio apartment, nor the means to take care of the teenager, tentatively agreed.
The way she cared about her had confused Elphaba in the beginning, having not been used to anyone caring about her. But over the past three years, she had grown used to Villy's care and attention. She was her boss, but also doubled as a tutor (much nicer than the private tutors she used to share with Nessarose, who always ignored her and directed all their focus on her younger sister), and, dare she say it, a motherly figure. She was stern, running a tight ship, but always fair and understanding, offering an ear and advice when needed. She had taken her in when no one, not even her own family, wanted her. The dressmaker didn't know the full story of her past, except that she was an orphan. Though not technically completely true, that's what she considered herself, since her mother was dead and her father had disowned her.
She turned on her lamp and fixed it to give her desk the most optimal light. She got out her materials and sat in her hard, wooden chair, reading over her Shiz University application essay before editing it for the fifteenth time that month. She wanted it to be perfect. Shiz University had been her dream school for most of her life. The only way that dream would have become a reality was if Nessarose wanted to go, which was unlikely. Her main purpose in life had been to take care of her younger sister, a responsibility she hadn't taken lightly. Since she had been relieved of that duty, she found herself being able to focus on herself, something she hadn't been able to do the first fifteen years of her life.
She took copious notes on her application essay, crossing out words and replacing them with more profound-sounding synonyms. She needed this to be perfect. She worked for around an hour, replacing most of the words in her essay with the help of her thesaurus, and making a plan to write the final draft the following night. She had to give it in by the end of the week if she wanted to make the deadline for the upcoming fall semester.
She wanted to read her essay to Villy and get her opinion before sending it, but she hadn't told her boss about wanting to attend Shiz. She didn't want to sound like she was just up and leaving her and didn't want to come off as ungrateful. She planned on telling her only if she got accepted. And even then, she still didn't know if she would go. Yes, she had saved up enough for tuition as a part-time student, but there were so many other things to consider.
A yawn was the only signal her body gave to remind her of how tired she was. She quickly changed into a simple nightdress and climbed into bed. As she laid there, staring at the ceiling and counting her breaths, her brain made silent changes to her essay, filing them away to her long-term memory so she would remember them the following morning.
"Elphaba, can you press this hem? I have to run to the back."
Elphaba looked up from her alterations. "Sure."
Villy nodded and went back to her office. Elphaba took over sealing the hems of the blue polka-dot party dress. Her boss had created a double-circular skirt, something she still struggled to do. She preferred to stick to basic patterns that didn't require a lot of hemming. She carefully sealed the stitches, hiding them from sight, and moved the mannequin to the window.
"Miss Elphie! Miss Elphie!"
Elphaba turned and smiled. "Hello, Mrs. Tarvey. Hi, Billa."
The Tarveys were a very rich family in the city, and one of the boutique's best customers. All five of the Tarvey girls got special dresses from the shop, and the youngest, five-year-old Billa, had a special fondness for the emerald seamstress.
"I've come to drop off a few dresses that need alterations." Mrs. Tarvey handed Elphaba a large garment bag, and Elphaba nearly collapsed under its weight. It was more than 'a few'. "And to pick up Billa's birthday dress."
"I'm turning six next week!" the little girl announced proudly.
Elphaba smiled. "I know, Billa. You're really growing up." The little girl reminded her so much of Nessarose, it hurt. "And your new dress is finished."
She bounced up and down, clapping her hands. "Lemme see it! Lemme see it!"
"Can I leave her with you for a bit? I have more errands to run that will be done faster without bringing her," Mrs. Tarvey asked, her eyes conveying the desperation that her voice hid so well.
"Of course, Mrs. Tarvey."
Billa impatiently tugged on Elphaba's skirt, completely oblivious that her mother had left the shop. The little girl became Elphaba's shadow, following her around the store as she went to get the new party dress. "Is that it?" she asked after every dress Elphaba sifted through.
"Yes, this is it," Elphaba answered after the tenth one, holding up the dress.
Billa squealed. "It's pink! That's my favorite color!"
"Would you like to try it on?"
"Yes, please!" she said with extra politeness.
Elphaba ushered her into one of the fitting rooms and helped her change out of her dress and into her party one. The young girl's gaze was glued to her reflection as she twirled around, admiring her pink party dress.
"Can I wear it 'til Mama comes back?"
Elphaba chuckled. "You don't want to accidentally ruin it, do you?"
"I'll be extra very careful. I pinky promise." She extended her pinky to Elphaba, giving her her infamous puppy-dog eyes until Elphaba hooked her pinky with hers. "Will you tell the story? The one about the magical dressmaker whose clothes made people do funny things?"
Elphaba kept the young girl entertained with the story she had told so many times, Billa had committed it to memory and interjected at her favorite parts to tell it herself. She was able to tell it while working on the alterations, while Billa twirled around so fast, Elphaba was sure she would make herself dizzy. "And then, the old dressmaker said –"
"Old? I'd hardly categorize being thirty-three as old."
The two looked up to see Villy leaning against the doorframe to the back of the shop, a slight smirk on her face, and her arms loosely crossed over her chest. "You're not a magical dressmaker," Elphaba offered.
"Yes, she is!" Billa piped up, finally stopping her whirling dervish (and not the least bit dizzy). "Miss Villy makes the most beautiful dresses in all of Oz, even though she can't see them. That's magical!"
"You forgot to mention that I'm not old," Villy pressed with a smile.
"Not old," Billa agreed, running over to her and giving her legs a tight hug. "Even though you're not the magical dressmaker from our special story."
Villy accepted the hug from the little girl. The bell above the door rang, signaling its opening, and she glanced up slightly.
"Nice to see you, Villy. I hope Billa didn't give you two too much trouble," Mrs. Tarvey said as she came in.
Billa ran over to her mother and twirled. "Mama! Mama! Look at my new dress! Isn't it pretty?"
"Oh my! Look at you! I'd expect nothing less from the finest seamstress in Shiz. I know I say this every time, but you've outdone yourself, Villy. This is beautiful!"
"Elphaba made Billa's dress this time," Villy smiled, turning to where she thought Elphaba was standing. "All by herself, start to finish."
"Well, Elphaba, my same praise applies. Billa, go change now, sweetie."
Billa pouted. "But I like my new dress!"
"You can wear it all day on your birthday next week."
"Come, Billa." Villy held out her hand and heard the little girl's feet drag to meet her. She took her hand and led her to the fitting rooms.
"I'll have the rest of the alterations done by tomorrow afternoon, Mrs. Tarvey," Elphaba said, going to the register to ring her up.
"Thank you so much, Elphaba. Billa's dress is wonderful." She had already given Elphaba the money for the dress, but her wallet was still out. "Here's a little tip."
A 'little tip' was always much more than a 'little tip'. But the Tarvey's had more money than they could dream of spending in a lifetime. Money was no obstacle for them, but for people like Elphaba, who budgeted and saved every coin possible, it meant a lot. At first, she would try to say that the 'tip' was too much, but Mrs. Tarvey was a stubborn woman, not taking 'no' for an answer.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Tarvey," she said, accepting the extra bills.
"You're welcome, my dear. Thank you, again. We'll be in touch again shortly. Raylyn's college graduation is coming up, and we're throwing her a small party. Nothing too fancy."
To them, 'nothing too fancy' could still include a four-course meal, a live band, and a decked-out ballroom. A giggle and Elphaba turned, seeing Billa and Villy return.
"Did you thank Miss Elphie for your pretty dress?" Mrs. Tarvey asked, accepting the garment bag from Villy.
"Thank you for my pretty dress, Miss Elphie," Billa echoed with a smile, giving the green girl another hug. She took her mother's hand and pulled her out of the shop, happily chattering all the way down the street.
Elphaba had waited until they were gone to count the money. She knew it would be more than expected, but she hadn't expected to see a thin stack of notes, all in twenties. Seven of them, to be exact. She had given her a one hundred forty note tip. Though overwhelmed, Elphaba appreciated the gesture. This was more money she could put into her Shiz University investment. She pocketed the money and went back to working on Mrs. Tarvey's dresses. She was going to make good on this.
"Elphaba, what are you working on right now?" Villy asked, reappearing in the doorway.
"Mrs. Tarvey's alterations. They're simple, but the stitches are complicated. I don't know how this sleeve ripped like this."
"Well, when you're done, come to the back and help me label the fabrics."
Elphaba nodded with a noncommittal hum, half distracted by trying to use the seam ripper to just rip the seam and not the entire sleeve.
"I need a verbal answer, Elphaba."
"Sorry. Yes, I'll come."
Villy hummed and retreated to the back. The alterations took less time than she anticipated, and she surprised Villy in the middle of cutting a new pattern.
"Most of these are excess fabrics from past orders. Then we have to go through the new ones I ordered in the boxes over there." She vaguely pointed to her left, and Elphaba noticed the three large boxes.
"Where do you want to start?"
"We'll start with the solid fabrics, since they'll be faster to label than the patterns. Once we get the excess fabrics folded, we can open the boxes."
The two got to work, both keeping their ears open for the doorbell in case a customer came in. They went into their usual routine of Villy grabbing whatever fabric her fingers found first, and examining its size before having Elphaba tell her the color. She typed the color onto her braille label maker and put it in its proper place on the excess fabric shelf.
Villy was a proud and independent woman, who knew her limitations and could ask for help when necessary. Elphaba had learned her limitations quickly (mostly the hard way) and knew when to lend a silent helping hand, and when to just let her boss be.
"Which one is this? It was in the blue pile," Villy asked, holding up a large fabric that was missing a large corner. She was very picky and precise about color tints, tones, and shades, and was never satisfied with generic descriptions.
The green girl used to only be concerned with colors that would clash with her skin. She had to expand her knowledge of the color wheel when she started working with Villy, something she honestly didn't expect to do when they first met. She was led to believe that she had sight at one point, and had worked a lot with colors, and she ended up being right on both counts. Her eyebrow rose as she considered her question. "Um… it's a bit darker than sky blue."
"Is it lighter than sapphire?"
"Mmhmm."
"Probably cerulean."
"Yes. I think that's right."
The dressmaker nodded and folded the fabric, typing the name into her label maker and listening to it print out. Once all the fabrics were folded and labeled, Villy opened the first box of new fabrics, cutting the tape with a pair of her dulled fabric scissors.
"Wow," Elphaba whispered. She pulled out the large rolls and examined them. "All of these rolls are one hundred yards. You bought five rolls of Vinkun silk?"
"Don't open those yet. We need to do the chiffons first." She groped around for the other box and opened it. "Is this one it?"
"Lace and ruffles," Elphaba read. "It looks like our regular order."
"Then it has to be the last box." She opened the final box, pulling out the fabric and feeling it before Elphaba had a chance to glance over. "Okay, this is the satin. Hopefully, the chiffon is under it." She reached into the box, her face melting in relief when she felt the sheer, soft fabric. "Thank Oz. It took me hours to place this order. I didn't want to have to go through that process again until we run out."
They spent the next hour and a half going through all the fabrics, labeling, and hanging the rolls on the racks. Exhausted, Elphaba collapsed in a nearby chair, silently vowing that she would never look at that many fabrics again (just like she did every time they did this).
"Great. Thank you, Elphaba. Can you go back to the front?"
She wanted to go back to bed, but agreed and went back to the front. There weren't any customers, and she had finished all the alterations and upcoming orders. She rearranged the skirts and did some basic straightening up before settling behind the counter with her sketchbook. She flipped through her designs, making notes of the ones she had actually brought to life. She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at most of her designs. They were all very pretty by society's standards, but as she was constantly reminded, she didn't fit into society's standards. She wouldn't wear most of the dresses she made, because she didn't design them for herself. The dresses were brightly colored with intricate designs, stitchings, and flowing skirts. That's what people wanted to wear, not her plain, shapeless, black frocks that made her look like she was living in an eternal funeral. She made a compromise while working, giving her black dresses some shape and a few decorative, golden buttons, but other than that, her style was very plain.
"You didn't have your lunch break, did you?"
Villy's voice startled her and she dropped her book with a gasp. "No, Miss Villy."
"Elphaba, we've discussed this. I can't have you passing out on me due to hunger and dehydration."
"I know. I'm just not very hungry. I have a canteen of water here." She took the canteen and shook it. It sounded almost empty.
"Well, I'm going out. If I bring back a sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup, will you eat it?"
"There's just so much work to do."
Villy rolled her eyes, taking that as a yes, and headed out. Elphaba picked up her book and continued where she left off. She was currently sketching an off-the-shoulder evening gown with a tiered skirt. It wasn't for anyone in particular, not even for the store's design book, but it was just a little doodle. The 'little doodle' was still very detailed, complete with measurements and fabric ideas, but it still wasn't anything serious.
The mailman came in while Villy was out, wordlessly placing the letters on the counter, as he always did, and hurried out without a single word. Elphaba went through the pile, separating receipts and bills from orders. A letter addressed to her from Shiz University came and she slowly tore it open.
Dear Applicant,
This is a final reminder that all applications are due by December eleventh. Applications received after this date will not be considered for the fall semester. If you have already sent in your application and have received confirmation of receipt, please disregard this message. If you have sent your application before the last week and a half, and have received no confirmation of receipt, please contact our admissions office as soon as possible.
We look forward to receiving your application.
The campus was walking distance from the town, so she wasn't worried about the deadline. She was stressing over her essay. The prompt had been to describe a hobby that she finds so engaging that she completely loses herself in the task. She wrote about dressmaking, how when she focuses on matching patterns and stitches, she is pulled into a creative trance. Of course, she embellished a few things, trying to make it sound more impressive than she thought it was, but she remained honest in her experiences.
"Elphaba?" Villy called as she entered the shop, making sure the door was fully closed behind her.
"I'm here," she answered absentmindedly.
"They were out of tomato soup, so I got you pumpkin soup. Did anyone come while I was out?"
"Just the mail. The fabrics factory sent over their swatch sample and a catalog. And a few invoices." She didn't mention her letter from Shiz.
"Alright. Come to the back and eat. If a customer comes in, I'll go."
Elphaba knew her boss wasn't going to give in, so she followed her to the back. She had to admit, the sandwich and soup did a good job at filling and warming her stomach. "Thank you, Miss Villy."
"Of course, Elphaba. And this is on me. If I find money on my desk, I'm returning it to you." The two heard the door open and Villy stood. "Don't move. Finish eating," she said sternly when she heard Elphaba's chair scrape the floor.
Elphaba obediently stayed and finished, hearing the indistinct voices from the front of the shop.
That night, after closing the shop, Elphaba retreated up to her room. After preparing the final draft of her essay, she read over her entire application three times before neatly sliding the papers and her application fee into a large manilla envelope, addressing it as if she were going to mail it in. She stared at it, feeling like she was forgetting something, but had triple check everything. She dismissed it as nerves and settled into bed, only to be awoken a few hours later by a loud bang!
Whoa! A #NiaHasNoChill cliffy in the first chapter? Go me! And can anyone guess what's so special about December eleventh?
I'm still finishing up this story (currently on Chapter 21) and updates will be every other day.