I walk through row after row of fabrics before I find myself in front of white silk. I run my fingers over the soft material, immediately envisioningmy newest design. Maybe wedding dresses should be in my future. Each one would be unique to the bride that wears it. Now my fingers are itching to sketch, but that will have to wait at least until I finish the costumes for Beauty and the Beast. But for now, I leave the store with samples of chiffon, crepe, and organza.
The sun is just starting to set when I get home. I unlock the door and step inside, flipping on the light. I love my house. It’s a small, open-concept bungalow with one bedroom and one bathroom. There’s a laundry room off of the kitchen that leads to the sunroom; it’s my favorite part of the entire house. The natural lighting from the three walls of windows makes it the perfect sewing room
I set the fabric samples on the kitchen island and open the fridge to see what my dinner options are: an almost empty bag of cheese and a green pepper. I need to go grocery shopping, but maybe I can talk Layla into taking me tomorrow before I go back to Pat’s for dish duty. My heart flutters at the thought of seeing Eamon again. I really need to get myself under control. This is ridiculous.
My phone buzzes, alerting me to a text message from Charlie.
Charlie:You home?
Me:Yeah, what’s up?
Charlie:Missing you. Can I come over?
Me:Sure. No food here. Just a warning.
Charlie:I’ll bring the wine. ;)
Charlie knows me so well, and guilt floods me when I realize that I haven’t told her about the last couple of days with Eamon. I’ll tell her tonight.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie walks through the door carrying a large brown paper bag.
“How much wine do you think we need, Charlie?” I laugh.
“After the day I’ve had, all of it. But I also brought dinner. Hope you’re okay with Chinese!” she says brightly after setting the bag on the island and begins pulling out cartons from our favorite Chinese restaurant. My mouth immediately starts watering as the smell of General Tso’s chicken fills the kitchen.
I give her a quick hug and say, “I’ll grab the bowls and glasses while you tell me about your day. What has you so willing to destroy your liver?”
Charlie groans, positioning the corkscrew over the top of the first bottle of wine. “Today was just awful. For starters, we were short-staffed and then we had the worst afternoon rush in the history of afternoon rushes. It’s like the whole world decided that at two o’clock this afternoon they all needed to come tomystore. It was insane. I didn’t even get to take a pee break until after my shift. And why are old people so damn cranky?”
I snort in amusement while I fill our bowls with rice. “You sound like Layla. There’s not a day that goes by that she’s not insulting the elderly.”
Charlie has been the store manager for Starbucks for years. When she transferred from our hometown to Wilmington, they were glad to have her since the store back home had the highest ratings in the area. Nobody works harder than Charlie, so for her to even complain about a busy day is a big deal.
“Go sit down,” I tell her, handing her a bowl. “Put your feet up. I’ll pour your drink.”
It’s not often that I get to take care of Charlie. It makes me feel useful. I pour a glass of wine for each of us and move to the couch. Her bowl sits on the coffee table as she rests her head on the back of the sofa and sighs heavily.
She rolls her head in my direction. “What’s new with you, Norie? I feel like we haven’t had a chance to just talk in a while,” she says, reaching a hand over to squeeze my arm.
Here we go.
“Well, it’s funny that you ask. There have been some new developments with the costumes for the play, and I have a date with Eamon Kennedy next week,” I say quickly before taking a sip of my wine.
Charlie bolts upright, eyes comically wide. “What? Why was that not the first thing out of your mouth when I came through the door?”
“You’re having a bad day. I wanted to hear about it.” I shrug, stuffing a fork full of chicken in my mouth.
“Oh, please. This trumps my shitty day at work, and you know it! Tellme how this happened! Have you told the others?” She’s bouncing up and down in her seat, her wine sloshing around the glass precariously.
I carefully take the glass from her hand, setting it on the coffee table before replacing it with her bowl of food.
“You eat. I’ll talk.”
Charlie hastily scoops some rice into her mouth and I take a deep breath before telling her everything that’s happened since Monday morning. She’s a great listener, interjecting with the proper reactions at just the right time.
“Oh my god, Norah!” she squeals. “I’m so happy for you! You deserve this. I mean, I don’t really know him, so of course, I’ll have to approve. But if he passes all my tests, he sounds like a dream come true.”
“Let’s not get too excited. There’s no guarantee this is going anywhere. He could just end up being a friend.” Charlie starts to say something, but I cut her off. “I’m not trying to downgrade myself, but he is beyond gorgeous. And I’m still not sure if I can completely let myself do this. I feel safe when I’m with him, but what happens if things do progress and he tries to kiss me? What if I have a panic attack on him?”
