Chapter 6 #2
Now, all she had to look forward to was an extravagantly expensive dinner in her empty shoebox of an apartment.
She’d never had the hamachi nigiri with foie gras and wasabi miso.
It might be better than her other option: spaghetti noodles with canned tomato sauce, which she could make for the week, and the supplies cost only $4. 85.
She texted back:
Merry Christmas.
With a sigh, she turned around to make her way back to her apartment.
As she passed by the dress once more, someone inside The Garnet & Petticoat reached into the window, fiddling with the edge of the gown, and Emmy’s heart drummed.
Had someone bought it? It wouldn’t make any difference if they had.
The gown wasn’t for her anyway. But with further scrutiny, the woman in the window seemed to be simply rearranging some of the gifts, shifting them into the light.
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Emmy tore her eyes from the dress to see a Santa heading her way through the masses.
He rang a gold bell as he made eye contact with strangers on the street and spouted good cheer.
They were a long way from the nearest shopping mall—where was he going?
He stopped by the violinist and wiggled his large booty, making a few people laugh.
Then, to her horror, his gaze landed on Emmy. He rang the bell in the air. “It’s the holiday season!” The man in the red suit with white fur cuffs strode toward her. “Smile!”
She gripped the box of sushi, already thinking of getting an Uber home, even though the walk was only a few blocks.
The last thing she needed was some deranged Santa following her back to her apartment.
He lifted a gloved hand and rang the bell again.
Then he leaned toward her, sending the scent of peppermint her way.
“The holidays are short,” he said into her ear. “Make the most of them. Another Christmas will be gone before you know it.”
Then he strode into the crowd around her, ringing his bell and singing, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”
Could her night get any weirder? She’d better duck out of the way somehow until he was gone.
As she regrouped, she centered herself by focusing on the dress in the window.
It represented a life she’d always imagined she’d have one day, but given her circumstances, it felt eternally out of reach.
The woman sprucing up the display noticed Emmy.
She smiled and waved at the mannequin, her eyebrows bouncing.
Then she beckoned Emmy inside. Perfect timing.
She could escape Santa and get a closer look at the dress.
Where was she going anyway? Back to her dingy apartment? She’d had to put down a pot in the corner of the living area to catch the leaky ceiling pipe, and the draft was intolerable.
Santa might be right. Why shouldn’t she make the most of her holiday? What would it hurt if she went inside and looked at the dress just for fun? It beat the alternative.
She stepped into the brightly lit shop.
Her phone went off again in her pocket, but she ignored it and walked over to the shop window.
“I’ve had my eye on this dress,” she said to the shopkeeper. “It’s so pretty.”
“It’s an unknown designer,” the woman said. “There’s no tag.”
Curious, Emmy stepped over to it and took hold of the sleeve, turning the edge inside out to view the stitching: overlock stitch.
Her mom, who’d taught her all the stitches growing up, once explained that she always used a French seam to enclose raw edges because it was best for delicate fabrics.
Disappointment bubbled up because the style was different from her mother’s.
For a split second, she’d hoped it was the same.
Whenever she saw a dress she liked, she wondered if her mother had designed it. When Emmy’s parents married, her mother gave away the few designs she’d made. The only dress left was the one from Baudelaire’s. Emmy had been left to wonder what happened to her mother’s other designs.
“Would you like to try it on?” the woman asked.
“Oh, um. No. That’s okay. But thank you,” Emmy said. “I was just window shopping.” She peered past the dress to the street. Santa had gone. Emmy held up her bag of sushi. “I should probably head home for dinner.”
“All right,” the woman said. “Have a good night.”
“Thank you.”
As she headed home, Santa’s comment floated back to her: The holidays are short.
Make the most of them. Another Christmas will be gone before you know it.
In five days, eleven Christmases would have come and gone without her mom, and she recalled what she’d promised herself: that she’d make this Christmas better.
Last year, the holiday had ended, and she’d shuffled back into work.
The next thing she knew, another year had passed.
She was leaving to go home in two days. She would do her best to make this holiday great.
Emmy arrived at her narrow apartment and shut the door behind her.
She lumped the bag of sushi on the dinette set by the window and unwound her scarf.
Then she shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair.
The space felt too quiet, so she clicked on the radio and tuned it to a station playing holiday music.
She pulled a plate from the cabinet and dished the sushi, putting her plate next to her sketchbook, which she opened to her latest sketch: a flocked polka-dot tulle mini-dress with puffed sleeves and a high neckline. She’d been drawing all year, and her confidence had grown.
As she sat down, her phone buzzed from the pocket of her coat, and she remembered the text that she’d never answered. She fished out the phone, along with the mints Akari had given her. Unwrapping a mint in one hand, she unlocked the screen with the other.
Hey. It’s Charlie. Long time no chat. I’m coming home to Tennessee for Christmas in a couple days. Will you be there?
A swell of excitement filled her, making her smile.
After Christmas last year, Madison had given Emmy’s number to Charlie over a work call.
Emmy and Charlie had exchanged a few texts since then, but nothing much.
He’d texted her once to tell her that the deli he’d stopped into had orange-flavored chocolates at the register.
Both she and her mom had always loved orange-flavored chocolate.
It had made him think of her. Another time, he’d asked if she knew anyone who needed football tickets.
He had two for the Bears and the Giants.
Down with the flu, he couldn’t go and was struggling to get rid of them.
She popped the cool mint into her mouth and texted back that she’d also be there in two days. She wasn’t nearly as dismayed at the thought of going home as she had been last year. Perhaps because she knew Charlie would be there. When he was around, Christmas with her family wasn’t so bad.
Her phone pinged.
See you then.
Suddenly, Santa’s suggestion to make the most of the holiday felt a little easier.