Isat at the table staring at the sewing machine. With its pictured stitch dial, numbered tension dial, and basic reverse button, it might have looked simple enough to use, but images could be deceiving. No matter its appearance, or what the instruction manual said, it was not a machine for beginners.
I knew I looked as frazzled as I felt, but I was determined not to be beaten. I ran my hand through my hair for the thousandth time and as my bobble fell from my head and bounced off my shoulder, prepared to thread the tiny-eyed needle for what had to be the millionth time. I put the end of the cotton between my lips to straighten it and taking a deep breath, leant forward and took aim. Squinting, my tongue poked out of the corner of my mouth, while the strand went left, then right, and then left again.
My vision blurred as I turned cross-eyed, forcing me to blink until I could see. Realising it was time to give up, I sighed and threw myself back in my seat. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell me again who said this was a good idea,” I said. What was once the highly anticipated answer to my prayers, seemed to be anything but.
I thought back to that morning when I’d bragged to Leo about having a head start because I was a potter. It seemed my experience with a foot pedal and clay meant nothing when it came to working with material. Not only did the fabric want to do its own thing, when I did manage to get it moving, I found sewing in a straight line nigh on impossible. I filled my cheeks with air and exhaled, able to hear the teasing I had coming my way. Leo wouldn’t be able to help himself and who could blame him?
Remembering he wasn’t the only one with whom I’d outlined my plan, humiliation washed over me as I recalled the exchange I’d had with Marianne; not just a sewer, but a bona fide expert who’d worked with none other than Zane Rafferty. Marianne might have been polite to my face when I’d discussed making my own wedding dress, but she had to have been secretly laughing at my naivety. It was no wonder the woman had looked at me like I was bonkers. I continued to cringe. Thanks to my misplaced confidence, I wouldn’t ever be able to face Marianne again.
The front door sounded as it opened and closed. Looking over at the clock, I was surprised to find it had gone 6pm. It appeared time flew if there was fun to be had or not. I’d at least hoped to tidy up before Leo got back.
“So how’s my little seamstress getting on?” Leo asked as he and Otis entered. Leo’s accompanying smile froze as he surveyed the kitchen and dining area.
“Not as well as expected,” I said. With no choice but to admit my failing, I took in the massacred bedsheets that covered the chairs, half the table, and most of the floor. “As you can see, I’m not cut out for sewing.”
“Oh, come on. Things can’t be that bad.”
My eyes went from Leo to the mess, and back again. “That’s a joke, right?”
Leo joined me at the table and sitting at my side, picked up a sample of my work. He assessed the quality of my stitching. “Look at this. You’ve created a fantastic wave-line.”
I raised my eyebrows. The man evidently knew less than I did on the sewing front. “It’s meant to be straight.”
“Well, what about this one?” Picking up another piece of material, I could see Leo wished he hadn’t. Frowning at the hot mess of gathered fabric and knotted cotton, he appeared lost for words.
“The tension was too tight.”
“And the fact that you know that shows you’re learning,” he replied, ever the optimist.
I sighed. “Doesn’t feel that way.”
“It’s like you said this morning, you need a bit of practice. To develop your sewing skills.”
I took the piece of material from him and tossed it to one side. “There’s no point. I’m rubbish at it.” Again, I took in the carnage around me. Forced to concede defeat, dressmaking was way beyond my skill set. “What am I going to do, Leo? I’d set my heart on that dress. And no way can I wear Mum’s offering.”
Leo rose, pulling me up with him. “You’re going to let me run you a bath and while you’re enjoying a long relaxing soak…” He wrapped both his hands around my waist. “I’ll tidy this lot away and get started on dinner.”
“That doesn’t solve the problem though, does it?”
“I’m sure between us we’ll come up with something. Maybe you could enrol on a sewing class? Or find some YouTube tutorials to get you properly started?”
I looked at Leo, confused by his response. “Don’t you find it hard being this nice all the time?”
“What do you mean?”
“After this morning’s conversation, if things were the other way around I’d be…”
“Oh, I know exactly how you’d be. But I also know how important this is to you.”
The man had the understanding of a saint.
“Don’t get me wrong, the teasing will come,” Leo said, with a glint in his eye. “You know, a bit down the line. When your dress is less of an issue.”
I chuckled, surprisingly glad to hear it.
Leo smiled. “In the meantime, how are you at darning socks?” he asked, before dodging out of harm’s way.
Chapter 23
