“Boss lady,” Lila calls as she steps into my workshop. “I have a customer out here who’d like to speak with the designer.”
Heat rushes up my neck and across my face, and Lila laughs.
I have pale skin. You’d think I’d never even met the sun before. My hair is unnaturally blonde, too. Before Mama died from cancer when I was five, she was convinced I was albino.
I’m not.
I’m just extremely pale.
So when I blush, it’s impossible to miss.
I follow Lila into the main area and smile at the pretty woman waiting near the counter.
“Hi,” I greet. “I’m Abby. Can I help you?”
“Abby…as intheAbigail from Abigail’s Wildflower Designs?”
Laughing, I nod. “That’s me.”
I still love the name I chose. At first, I was going to call the shopAbby’s Boutique. Simple. Safe. But the longer I sat with it, the more it felt wrong.
I love wildflowers and what they symbolize. They don’t need perfect conditions to grow. They’re resilient. They survive inplaces nothing else does. They bloom after storms, in cracked ground, on the side of the road…where no one planned for them to be. They’re beautiful not because they’re protected… but because they aren’t.
I feel like a wildflower.
I mean, I’m protected…probably too much. But I’ve lived in less-than-perfect conditions for the past five years. Situations that could break even the hardest man.
And yet… here I stand.
I was broken down by Los Fantasmas…By Tank.
And still… here I am.
Standing. Growing. Blooming.
I’m a freaking wildflower…and I’m proud of it.
“What can I help you with?” I ask the woman and send a smile to the little girl at her side.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to design matching dresses for my daughter and me?”
What kind of silly question is that?
“I would love to,” I say, smiling.
“You don’t even know what I want yet,” she laughs.
“Doesn’t matter,” I reply. “Designing and creating a mommy-and-me outfit is on my bucket list. What kind of timeframe are we looking at?”
“Five months?” she asks, frowning slightly. “Is that enough time?”
I pull out my phone and check my planner. I have a few new cuts to get ready for some prospect’s Bubby plans to patch in next month. Then there are several online orders that are mostly finished…and one massive wedding dress I haven’t even started.
“It really depends on what you’re looking for,” I admit, glancing back up at her. “I have a wedding dress to finish before Thanksgiving, and that alone will take me several months to complete.”
It’s December. Almost Christmas…next week, actually. I planned on starting the dress right after.
It will take me seven months to complete on my own. With the number of Swarovski crystals she wants attached, I’m estimating about five months to construct the dress while still keeping up with my other orders… and another two months just to hand-place the thousands of crystals.
