Music from: You Make Me Feel Euphoria
A new line of knitting needles in funky colors lined the wall behind the counter. Ivy stopped, staring at the foot-plus-long needles. They always brought back a bout of pain, those needles, and in her mind's eye, she saw again her mother's hands deftly working a pair of knitting needles with a skein of soft yarn. The baby blue strand of yarn was a fuzzy blur as her mother whisked the thread into a pair of baby-booties.
It was supposed to be for Ivy's baby brother, but that baby was never born. With two months left before little brother was to enter their world, Ivy's mother had been rushed to the hospital with complications. At age six, Ivy didn't understand at the time.
Since then, however, she understood. Most of the tears were gone by now, but Ivy still felt that twinge of loss every time she saw that shade of blue.
"Okay, Ivy?" Lornie asked in a sing-song tone.
"All good," came Ivy's standard reply. As much as being in the sewing and needlecraft shop piqued at her memories, the pull of being close to her mother's favorite hobby also brought back some good feelings when Ivy faced the threads, needles, and fabric in the shop. The wave of loss passed, to be replaced by an emotional warmth that also followed.
Dred leaned to her. "What's up? Something wrong, Ivy?"
The shopkeeper, Mrs. Dreyhaupt, smiled a wrinkly smile at the girls, giving a less sure one to Dred. She was an older, plump, knowledgeable woman who spent most of her time knitting or sewing and finding even the most elusive of sewing notions for her patrons. "Hello, Ivy, Lornie. How're the tryouts going?"
Lornie beamed, making a beeline to the counter where Mrs. Dreyhaupt was sorting embroidery floss. "Still in the running, yes. I'll find out soon."
"Mmm, I have something you might be interested in." The shopkeeper pulled a tray out of the counter back side. She held up a spool of thread that gleamed a bright burnt brass color in the overhead lights. "Industrial Punk BronzeLight, just off the mill. I thought you'd want the first spool."
Ivy watched Lornie take the spool of metal-colored thread in both hands like it was a holy relic. To Lornie, and anyone trying out for the school's steampunk version of the play Romeo and Juliet, it was a holy relic. Lornie held the spool in awe, then up to the light where the bulbs caught the color like a roll of burnished bronze.
Mrs. Dreyhaupt wedged herself between the counter exit and the bolts of cloth standing up near the back wall. "Your order came in, Ivy. Looks good, too."
Ivy nearly skipped to the back wall. "A whole bolt? The sample was perfect!"
Dred trailed, uncertain. "A what?"
"You wanted to come along," she reminded him, her gaze fastened on the white and green bolt the shopkeeper pulled from behind the other rolls of cloth. She held her breath as the green on white printed cloth emerged. "Oh, it's lovely."
The shopkeeper placed the bolt on the counter and unrolled two yards.
Ivy cupped the cloth tenderly, eyes moving over the design. It was an exact replica of the green leafy pattern on a white background from Scarlett O'Hara's barbecue dress from the film Gone with the Wind. She'd meticulously reconstructed it from a pattern she'd seen online, blown it up, made a template from a block of foam, and fashioned a sample to send through Pins & Bobbins to a custom print shop. She couldn't use the standard online submission form with her cloth sample, but Mrs. Dreyhaupt had come to her rescue for that. She'd wanted to buy the reconstructed ready-to-use print available online, but since its release in the 1990s, it was always sold out.
The foam print result was perfect.
Ivy held up the cloth edge, smiling at the brilliant green sprigged design printed on the white organza. "Just like her dress at the barbecue at Twelve Oaks."
"It's not even a dress," Dred said, scowling at the fabric.
"It will be once Ivy gets done with it," Mrs. Dreyhaupt said stiffly. "Who is this young man, Ivy? Your beau?"
Lornie broke out into a guffawing laugh until Ivy shot her a dark look.
"No," Ivy snapped, mostly to Lornie. "He's new in town. Mrs. Dreyhaupt, this is Dred. From Canada."
"Eh," Dred said with a nod to the shopkeeper.
Mrs. Dreyhaupt raised an eyebrow and mumbled, "Mm-hmm."
"I've already finished the taffeta petticoat, and velvet sash," Ivy said, nearly in a dreamlike state as she let the silk organza fall through her hand. "The bodice is nearly done, and most of the ruffles are done. I just have to attach the blouse to the skirt and thread the green ribbon through."
Dred seemed to have put a few pieces together on his own. "A costume? You're making this all," he gestured to the full bolt of twenty yards of cloth, "into one dress?"
"Yes." Ivy nearly flinched at the amused disbelief in his face. "If you don't like it, then . . . then just go now, Dred."
The humor flicked from his face as he gauged her reaction. "Okay. Yeah. A big dress. From . . . you said a movie?"
"Gone with the Wind," Ivy said. "How can you not have heard of it? Even in Canada?"
"Oh, yeah, I have. Lots of it." He sent a quick look to Lornie, who was clasping her thread spool like brass knuckles, and then back to Ivy. "Can I see you in it?"
Ivy's affront was replaced by a blush. "In, in the costume?"
"Yeah. This, and all the other things you said went with it." He shrugged, his fingers moving to the fabric near his hand, before withdrawing. "Ah, my hands might be dirty. So, you'll show me this big . . ." He glanced at the receipt the shopkeeper was writing up. The tiny image of Scarlett O'Hara in the green print dress was paperclipped to the invoice. "Wow. This enormous dress you're making, Ivy?"
Ivy couldn't stop the full-on flush that bloomed from her throat up over her cheeks. "Y-Yes. Sure. I guess so, Dred."
A throaty chuckle came from Mrs. Dreyhaupt. "It might be good to get a male opinion, Ivy. Your father not included, of course."
Ivy could almost feel the grin spread across Dred's face. Out of sight by the notions pegboard, Lornie giggled. Ivy briskly rolled the loose cloth back onto the bolt. "I guess so."
Three minutes later, they were out of the shop and back on the sidewalk. Lornie nearly tripped over an uneven section of sidewalk as she watched the later afternoon sun glint off the metallic thread spool she held up to the sun.
"I love this color. So bright. So metallic. So—" Lornie caught herself as her foot clipped another raised piece of concrete. "Ouch! Again! Why don't they fix this stuff?" She mumbled and looked back at the spool now clutched tight in her hand.
Ivy peeked out from behind the bundle of plastic-bagged bolt she carried. "Taxes. You know. Taxes for everything around here."
"So says my dad." Lornie suddenly tilted her wrist so that her gear-exposed watch faced her. "Oh, no! I'm almost late! I've gotta sit for the Marvin kids tonight. You're sure you can fill in for me for Halloween, right, Ivy?"
"Yeah," Ivy said, her voice muffled as the bolt of cloth fell over her collarbone at a different angle. She cinched her arms tighter around it. "Strange that the opening night for Romeo and Juliet is Halloween. No Trick-or-Treating mayhem for anyone in the cast."
Lornie put her spool of thread in her bag. "Guess not. 'Kay, I'm off. Catch you later, Ivy. Dred."
"Bye!" Ivy called as Lornie sprinted down the next alley they came to, disappearing among the store back delivery lane entries.
"See ya!" Dred returned. He glanced to Ivy. "Let me carry that before you fall."
She shifted the bolt to the other side, away from him. "I got it."
"Sure?"
"Yup."
The Vampire Zodiac … Introduction … More from Sakurapu … All Chapters
PG13. #YearOfTheVampire #vampire #dramady #highschool #YA #fiction #VampireZodiac
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