I’m behind my desk comparing the contracts line by line when Eric lets himself into the apartment.
“Arch? Where are you?” He whisper yells from down the hall. “I have some interesting news.”
Interesting news? Yeah, I have some interesting news too. I find it interesting that these two contracts are different in a few crucial areas.
It’s almost laughable, really. How did my father think he was going to get away with this? And why?
“Oh, there you are. You better sit down for this. You’ll never believe what my mom said.”
Chapter 37
Santa’s Side Chick
Phoebe
“Ohmygod.Lookat that one.” Charlie smacks me excitedly in the arm and points to another giant tapestry hanging from the ceiling of the convention centre. “Where would you even make something that size? The artist must have their own warehouse studio to accommodate something on that scale.”
Charlie and I are spending the day at the textile arts festival, thanks to the tickets Archer gave me for Christmas. He said after seeing the picture of the tapestry I made for Lincoln, he knew I’d love something like this. And I do. I so do.
We’ve seen only a fraction of the artists’ booths and I already have so many ideas for new creations, I’ve started a fresh note on my phone with lists of materials I’ll need. I can’t wait to get started.
“Whoa, that’s impressive. I can’t believe the variety in scale of projects we’ve seen here today.” Some people make medium to large size items like me, but there is such a vast difference in the size of projects I can hardly believe it. “That one is astronomical compared to the one we saw that was so small it needed to be looked at a through a microscope. I can’t imagine working at either scale. I work in the size I do because it’s a size my hands can handle.”
Charlie waggles her brows. “So you’re telling me Archer’s candy cane is on the small side?” She throws her head back and laughs. “I would have thought you’d need something girthier than a strand of yarn to make those noises you were making last night.”
My hand shoots out and I backhand her shoulder before I know what I’m doing. “Shhh,” I whisper harshly while scanning our surroundings to see if anyone heard her. “Will you shut up?”
Since Christmas Day, after we took Lincoln to the hospital together, Archer has spent most of every night with me at my house. Let’s just say neither of us has been sleeping much, and it has nothing to do with the baby in the other room. No, the ways Archer has been keeping me awake have been way more enjoyable than your average sleep deprivation.
She laughs harder. “Why? You don’t want anyone to know how much youreallylove yarn?”
My cheeks burn as the people surrounding us turn to look in our direction. I stare at the floor with a hand on my head, hoping I’ll escape notice.
“Oh yeah, yarn. Oooh.” Charlie wraps her arms around herself and pretends like she’s making out with someone, tongue sloppily bathing her own face as she makes kissing noises, forcing a chuckle from me. I can’t help but laugh at how stupid she looks. “You know how I like ’em skinny and floppy.”
I yank her arm and drag her away, the sound of laughter drifting after us from the few people who’d been standing nearby.
“Jesus, Charlie. Do you need to draw so much attention to us?”
She shrugs and says with a laugh, “Why does it matter? We don’t know these people. And besides, no one cares anyway. There weremaybethree people who saw me and heard what I said. Fuck ’em.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her laissez-faire attitude. She truthfully doesn’t give a shit what people think of her. Sometimes I wish I could be more like that, but I’m not there yet. The memory of people staring at us mere moments ago makes me flush again with an uncomfortable heat.
Charlie shakes her head and links her arm through mine. “Come on, then. The yarn-bombing demonstration starts in ten minutes, and I want to get a drink before we head over there.” She pats her purse with her other hand and whispers, “I brought a flask of the good tequila to keep things interesting.”
I roll my eyes and let her lead me to the concession area. I’m not surprised she brought alcohol. The textile arts festival is more my scene than hers. Still, I’m glad she came with me today. While she scans the offerings from the many booths serving food and drink, I pull out the paper program I grabbed on the way in to the convention center. Other than the yarn-bombing demonstration, I want to check out the felting section, take in a presentation on modern spinning wheels and spinning practices, and get a closer look at, oh, I don’t know, every exhibit in the place. With over six hundred booths, that could take a while.
“I’m going to run to the washroom. Can you grab me a drink, too? A water would be great.”
“Sure thing. Want to meet at the yarn-bombing demo? First one there saves the seat.”
I agree, then make my way to the closest set of restrooms. When I’m done with the bathroom, I wash up and head back out to the main area of the convention center.
I still can’t believe Archer got me tickets to this. Not only got me tickets, but knew about it in the first place. I didn’t even know about it, and I’m the one who does the weaving. A flood of happiness fills me when I imagine him researching this event and deciding to get the tickets. He was nervous when he gave them to me, like he wasn’t sure if I would like it or not. It was a risk, considering I never really said how much I loved making my projects, but he must’ve sensed something, because this gift hit it out of the park. I have so many ideas for new things I want to try and I’ve only seen a few of the booths so far. I can’t wait until I get through the rest of them to see what else I’m inspired to create.
The walk to the yarn-bombing demo takes me through the lace maker’s section. There have to be at least ten different women running around with giant wedding binders, each of them looking for the perfect handmade lace for their special day.
Must be nice.Before today, I wasn’t even aware people still made lace by hand. I thought it was all machine cut these days. The glimpses I spy as I walk by intrigue me. I need to bring Charlie back to see these after the demonstration. I wonder if she knows that lace can be handmade?
