Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eloise
“Wedding?” I repeat the last word she said because I have to.
“Yes,” Penny states calmly.
I assume the groom in her happily-ever-after equation is Daxton Robinson, but I feel the need to confirm that. “You’re getting married?”
“One day,” she whispers. “I want to have the dress ready to go when that happens.”
I take a breath. “Maybe you should wait to commission it until you’re engaged.”
“I know what you’re thinking.” She shakes her head.
“I’ve always chased after my dreams. I knew when I was twelve that one day I’d leave Rhode Island and move to Manhattan.
I had no doubt that I’d start a pet portrait business, and that may not be the success I imagined it would be, but it’s still blossoming. ”
I nod. “Chasing after dreams is important.”
“My heart tells me Dax is my guy.” She drops her shoulders. “I was allowed in to see him today since they moved him to a regular room. We held hands. There’s something there.”
I glance at her phone again, but the screen is dark.
She taps it, bringing the photo of her grandma back into view. “Maybe fate will grant my wish, and I’ll marry him one day. Maybe there’s another guy waiting around a corner for me. For the record, I don’t see that happening, but I want the dress.”
Every rational part of me wants to tell her to hold off on commissioning a piece like that. It will take hours of work. Both the knitted and crocheted elements are intricate.
“Let’s make it simple,” she suggests. “Can you duplicate this dress for me, Eloise Rehn?”
I nod. “I know I can.”
“My budget is eight thousand,” she says sheepishly. “I know it’s going to be hundreds if not thousands of hours of work, and there’s the cost of the yarn to factor in, and…”
“I’ll do it,” I interrupt. “I want to do this for you.”
Since she’s hell-bent on getting the dress made, I should be the one to do it. My work is impeccable. My attention to detail is second to none.
I know I can purchase the materials for it at a reasonable cost. I have a friend who can order the exact pure silk yarn I’ll use.
“I’ll pay you upfront,” she offers. “That way, you know I won’t bail and leave you on the hook with a dress made just for me.”
Something tells me she’d never bail on me, but the promise of that much money in my bank account is too good to pass up. “Okay, Pen.”
“What’s our first step?” she asks, glee bouncing in her eyes.
“You’ll need to pick up a cream or white colored long slip to wear under it.” I glance at the photo again. “Then we’ll set up a time for you to come to my apartment so I can get all your measurements.”
“I can do that,” she agrees with a broad smile. “I asked my mom if she knew where the original dress is, but it’s nowhere to be found. We also don’t have a pattern for it.”
“I don’t need one.” I smile back.
“I knew you’d say that.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll send you the picture.”
“Yes, thanks,” I say. “I’ll need that.”
“I can’t wait to show my mom the finished dress.” She tilts her head as she taps on the photo to send it to me via text message. “I’ll have to invite her to New York for the unofficial unveiling.”
“I’m sure she’ll love seeing it and you.”
“She will.” She nods. “I miss her, but I’m starting to like this city more and more.”
I get that. When I moved here from Buffalo after graduating high school, I missed the people I loved back home.
Thankfully, my brother Draco and Astrid both lived in Manhattan and worked together.
When Astrid offered me a job to work alongside them, I jumped at the chance.
It put money in my hand, and since Astrid let me set my schedule at Vinyl Crush, I could devote a lot of time to selling my knitted and crocheted pieces online.
Working with both of them was a dream come true. Draco has since moved back home, but we talk on the phone at least once a week. I do the same with my folks.
“Do you want to tag-along to Dr. Morgan’s office tomorrow when I drop off my thank you note?”
“I can’t,” I answer in a rush. I follow that up with the one word reason I have to bow out. “School.”
It’s not a complete lie. I’ll be busy on campus tomorrow, but apart from that, I’ve seen enough of Dr. Morgan this weekend.
I’m still trying to accept the fact that we had a mind-blowing sexual encounter at a private party two weeks before my twenty-first birthday.
Or at least my mind was blown by it.
He was blown by me.
“I’ll tell him you said hi if I see him,” she offers.
“No, that’s okay.” I follow that with a nervous laugh.
Her eyebrows pinch together. “Why not?”
Because I don’t need him to know that I’m thinking about him.
Since I can’t share the reason with her, I switch the subject to one I suspect she’s fond of. “When you see Saylor again, can you tell her that she’ll have the sweater for Piggie very soon?”
That does its job. Pen beams with a huge grin. “She’ll love that. I can pick it up when you’re done, or I guess if you’re close to the hospital, you can drop it off. I’m sure she’d be excited to see you again. I know she’s been bored having to hang around there.”
Since it would take me less than a couple of hours to knit a tiny sweater for her toy, and Dr. Morgan is apparently scheduled to be at his office all day tomorrow, I see a break from school in my immediate future.
“I’ll drop it off along with some coloring books and crayons.”
“You’re the best, Els.” She finishes the last of her drink. “I had no idea on Friday that I’d have a friend like you by the end of the weekend.”