Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 41 of 65

Saturday came around to Jordie's visit week. Violetta had the coffee on by nine and Elowen fed and changed by nine-thirty. Paul sat at the kitchen table with the paper, there to supervise so Violetta could keep her hands on her dress work. She heard the car door at ten sharp. Jordie came up the walk with a small paper bag and a stuffed rabbit under one arm. Violetta let him in, said hello, and pointed him to the living room where Elowen kicked on her play mat. He sat on the floor and shook the rabbit for her. Elowen grabbed its ear and pulled. He laughed once, then looked up at Violetta with a question on his face he had not yet asked. She stayed in the doorway with her arms crossed. She knew what he wanted to know. Greg's car had been at the house Friday night. Someone at school had told someone, and that someone had told him. She could see it in how he kept his eyes on her instead of the baby. "Are you and Greg together now," he said. He did not make it a question. Violetta stepped into the room and sat on the arm of the couch. She said yes. She said they had gone on two dates and she planned to go on more. She said Greg knew about Elowen and knew about the custody schedule and had not asked her to change any of it. She kept her voice even. Paul stood in the kitchen doorway now, coffee mug in hand, not speaking, just there. Jordie set the rabbit down. He rubbed his face with one hand and nodded a few times like he was answering himself. He said okay. He said he had figured. He asked if it would change the Saturdays. Violetta said no. Two hours, every other week, supervised, same as the paper said. He nodded again and turned back to Elowen and picked her up under the arms. He held her against his shoulder and did not look at Violetta for the rest of the hour. At eleven he handed the baby to Paul, said goodbye to Elowen by name, and walked out. He did not slam the door. He did not linger. Violetta watched his car pull away from the front window and felt her shoulders drop. She went upstairs to the office and sat down at the machine. The purple bodice hung on the form with the shoulder placket pinned in place. She had told him the truth and he had taken it and left. That door was shut now in a way it had not been shut before. She threaded a fresh bobbin, lined up the next seam, and pressed the pedal. The needle moved. Elowen's showcase dress waited under her hands, months out still, and she had time to make it right.