Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 46 of 65

Friday night Elowen woke at eleven. She woke again at one. She woke again at two-forty. By three Violetta was pacing the office with the baby on her shoulder, a wet washcloth pressed to swollen gums. The dress form stood in the corner. The bodice on it had not moved since Thursday. Six roses waited in a row. She counted the days in her head. Sixteen weeks to the showcase. She had planned four roses a night. Tonight she had sewn none. Saturday morning she pinned a rose to the muslin with one hand and rocked the bassinet with the other. The stitch went crooked. She pulled it out. Elowen cried. She rocked harder. The stitch went crooked again. She set the needle down before she stabbed the fabric wrong. She went downstairs. Her mother was at the counter with coffee. Paul was fixing the toaster. "I need help," Violetta said. "Real help. Not afternoons. Nights." Lymber turned. "Teething?" "Three nights in a row. I can't sew tired. I ruin fabric." Paul set the screwdriver down. "What do you need?" "I need someone to take her from ten to two. Every night this week. I'll sleep from two to six. Then I sew from six to nine before she's up." Lymber looked at Paul. Paul nodded once. "We'll split it," Lymber said. "I'll take Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Paul takes Tuesday, Thursday. Saddie can come an hour earlier on weekdays so you get morning time too." "She'll cry for me." "She'll cry," Lymber said. "Then she'll stop. She has two other people who love her in this house." Violetta felt her throat close. "I don't want to hand her off." "You're not handing her off. You're borrowing four hours." She nodded. She went back upstairs and slept for two hours on the office couch. Sunday night at ten, Lymber came in and lifted Elowen from the bassinet. Elowen reached for Violetta. Violetta looked at the floor and did not reach back. Lymber carried her out and shut the door. Violetta sat down at the machine. The house was quiet in a way it had not been in weeks. She heard Elowen fuss once, far off, then quiet. She threaded the needle. She sewed the seventh rose. Then the eighth. At one in the morning she had four roses done and the left bodice panel joined clean. She had not cried once. At two Lymber tapped the door. "She's down. Go sleep." Violetta looked at the dress form. Ten roses now. She counted forward. Four a night, six nights a week. She would make the deadline. She went to bed. She slept four straight hours for the first time in a month. Monday morning she came downstairs and Saddie was already at the door, an hour early, coat still on.