Day 7 – Alt. Prompt: Fuzzy Socks

The kitchen table was a mess of sewing supplies, torn fabric, loose threads, and paper. Anah stared at the mess, and resisted the urge to let out a scream of frustration. I cannot do this! Why can I not do this?! I have no idea what I am doing! Why is this so difficult?!

She couldn't scream because Moffitt was in the bedroom, trying to get some much-needed rest as he was locked in a battle with a bad cold. Screaming wouldn't do anyone any favors. Instead, Anah sighed, and picked up a needle with her tail to shove it in a pincushion. Why did I decide to do this? I have never sewn or knitted before. She looked over the mess again, and started cleaning up. I need help.

Once the table was cleaned off, Anah put the fabric into a bag, and slithered over to the bedroom door. She opened it, and went inside to climb up one of the bedposts and look at Moffitt. He was finally sleeping, but there was no sweat or any other sign that his fever had broken. Anah didn't want to leave him alone, but she ultimately decided to head out anyway. She knew just the person to go to for things like this. Hopefully, Moffitt didn't mind that she was borrowing the car.

The drive wasn't very long. Once the car was parked, Anah pulled the key out of the ignition with her tail, then opened the door and slithered out into the driveway of Nicholas and Adeline Moffitt's lovely and inviting stately home. She closed the door, locked it, and dropped the keys into the bag of fabric before making her way to the porch. She raised herself up to the doorbell, pressed it with her snout, and waited patiently for someone to answer.

The door opened, and Nicholas looked around in confusion, muttering something about kids and pranks when he saw no one.

"Down here," Anah said.

"Oh, hello, Anah! What brings you by?" Nicholas beamed upon seeing the cobra.

"I… need to speak to Adeline."

"Where's Jack?"

"At home. Sick."

"That explains why he wasn't at the university yesterday." Nicholas leaned over to pick up Anah, and the bag. "What's this?"

"The reason I need to see your wife."

Nicholas carried Anah to one of the home's many sitting rooms, where Moffitt's mother was seated with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in another. "Adi? Anah's here to see you."

"Well, that's not something you hear every day," Adeline replied. "Is Jack with her?"

"No. He's sick at home."

"Do we need to go check on him?"

"No, madam," Anah said. "I need your assistance with something."

"With what?"

Anah hadn't had many positive interactions with Moffitt's mother. She dismissed her at first as being "just a snake," and something evil, but with time, they started to get along, and Adeline accepted Anah a little better. That didn't stop Anah from feeling a bit shy around her, especially without Moffitt around to keep things civil. "I noticed yesterday that all of Moffitt's socks are very thin, and his fever has produced some very bad chills. I got some thick, soft fabric, and… tried to make a pair of fuzzy socks this morning. It did not go well."

"No one ever taught you to knit or sew, little one?" Adeline said.

"No, madam." Anah couldn't bring herself to look Adeline in the eye.

"Why do you look so ashamed?"

"Well, I… I feel like this is something I should know—"

"But you don't. That's not something to be ashamed of." Adeline closed her book and stood. "I can take her, Nick."

"I can carry her, Adi," Nicholas replied. "I know you don't like—"

"This is for our son." Adeline held out her arm, and let Anah wrap around it while taking the bag of fabric as well. The car keys jingled in the bag. "Did you drive yourself, Anah?"

"I did."

"Can't believe Jack lets you do that."

"It has come in handy, madam. Like today, for instance."

"Right." Adeline walked with Anah down to her sewing room. "Let's see what you have." She opened the bag and set the fabric on a small table. "With this particular material, it looks like you're trying to make him a pair of slippers rather than socks."

"And he has a perfectly good pair of slippers," Anah replied, slithering onto the table.

"I do have some yarn that'll work perfectly for soft socks. If I can find it."

"What color is it?"

"It's black. I used it to make socks for Nick a few years ago for Christmas." Adeline opened a huge basket nearly overflowing with balls of yarn. "Here it is. Come, sit on my shoulder. I'll show you what to do, little one."

Anah watched attentively as Adeline started one sock, and said nothing for the next hour or two, just listened and took in the information as best she could.

"Knitting socks—or anything, really—takes a lot of time," Adeline said. "Unless you really set your mind to it, it'll take you a few days to finish. Jack could recover fully by then."

"I suppose I should have just bought a pair, then," Anah replied.

"You could, but I think it's sweet that you wanted to try this. It comes from the heart, which you certainly have."

Anah weakly smiled. "Thank you, madam."

"Would you like to work on these here, or try it at home?"

"I… would feel better working on them here."

Over the next several days, Anah visited Moffitt's parents, and continued working on the socks. When they neared completion, she was horrified to see one sock ended up smaller than the other. "How did I manage that?!" she cried.

"We all make mistakes when we're just starting out, little one. It's not something to be upset over," Adeline said. She touched the cobra's head. "You did very well for your first go at socks. That's something to be proud of."

Anah wasn't sure to be proud or not. At least the socks looked wearable, but they weren't…

"Perfection! I demand perfection from you!" her witch's voice screamed in her head.

Why am I incapable of getting this right? It should not be difficult. A choking sensation built in Anah's throat.

"Are you alright?" Adeline asked.

"Fine. Fine," Anah replied, hastily.

"You don't look it, little one." Adeline touched Anah's head again. "This isn't something Jack will be upset over. You did a fine job."

"Honest?"

"Honest. Go on home and show Jack."

Part of Anah wanted to argue. Instead, she nodded, packed away the completed pair of socks, and headed back home.

Moffitt had been slowly improving over the last few days, and today was the first day that he was well enough to be out of bed. He still had a bad cough, and it hurt Anah to see Moffitt half-slumped and holding his chest after a violent coughing fit. She entered the house to see him seated at the table, having a cup of tea and reading that day's newspaper.

"Hello, Anah," Moffitt said hoarsely.

"Dear," Anah replied. "I… brought something for you."

"Oh? What is it?" Moffitt closed the paper.

Anah set the bag on the table before climbing up one of the legs. "It is… um… I… knitted a pair of socks." She struggled to keep herself composed, and frantically tried to distract herself while slithering around the top of the table. Is his tea fresh and hot? Has he eaten anything? Can he eat anything? Perhaps I should start making a broth—

"I like them a lot, Anah."

She turned to face Moffitt, and began cursing her biology as a snake that prevented her from actually crying and shedding tears. Her composure shattered. "They are awful! One of them is smaller than the other! I failed! I failed!"

"You can't even tell that one's smaller. They fit just fine. Why are you so upset?" Moffitt gave her a concerned look.

"Because I could not get it right!"

"That doesn't matter, and you know I don't seek perfection in stuff like this." Moffitt reached over to pick Anah up. He studied her face, then sighed. "Your witch demanded perfection out of you, didn't she?"

Anah couldn't say she was surprised. Moffitt knew her that well.

"Trust me, that's a hard habit to break yourself out of. You don't have to worry about perfection anymore, alright? I appreciate your gift. At least now I know why you've been disappearing for a few hours each day."

"Yes, and I am so sorry for that, dear," Anah said. "I have never knit anything before. Originally, I tried making them by myself, but when things did not pan out the way I hoped, I went to your mother for help."

"And she helped you?"

"Yes. It was nice spending time with her."

"I'm glad." Moffitt moved Anah to his shoulders so he could pick up his tea. "You're not going today, are you?"

"No. Why?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like your company."

"Of course." Anah managed a smile. For the rest of the day, she was happily curled up under Moffitt's robe while he lay on the couch in the sitting room, but what made her happier was that he kept her socks on. She was now further convinced that she had done a decent job.