Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 47 of 65

The showcase was Saturday at noon. Violetta zipped the dress bag in the office and carried it downstairs. Elowen sat on the kitchen floor, ten months old, almost eleven, banging a wooden spoon against a pot. Lymber knelt beside her in a red top and jeans, wiping applesauce off her chin. Paul stood by the door in his flannel, keys already in hand. Missy came down the stairs in a green dress, holding her sneakers. "Car's warm," Paul said. "Let's move." Violetta hung the bag over her arm. Four months of nights had gone into it. Hand-drawn roses on printed silk. A single clean idea, the way the judge had told her. She had not slept more than four hours at a stretch since October. Her hands were steady anyway. At the school gym the doors stood open and the tall windows let in flat winter light. Girls hurried past with garment bags. Violetta went to the dressing area and stepped into the dress. The bodice sat right. The skirt fell right. She had rehearsed the walk in the office at two in the morning for weeks. When her name was called, she walked the runway once, turned at the end, and walked back. She did not look for anyone. She looked at the seam line on the floor. The judges conferred for eleven minutes. Then a woman at the microphone read the third place, the second place, and then her name for first. Violetta took the blue ribbon. The gym clapped. She scanned the crowd from the platform. Lymber was on her feet. Paul was on his feet. Missy was jumping. And behind them, near the doors, Jordie stood in his leather jacket, dark hair, clapping harder than any of them. His hands were red with it. She had not known he would come. She had not invited him. She stepped off the platform with the ribbon still in her fist and walked past her family and past the other girls and past the folding chairs. Jordie did not move. He kept clapping until she was in front of him. Then he stopped and let his hands fall. "You won," he said. "I know." She took his face in both hands and kissed him. He held very still, like he was afraid to break it. When she pulled back, he was breathing hard. "Saturdays," she said. "Every one. For a year. Starting today." "Every one," he said. She looked past him. Lymber had reached them, Elowen on her hip. Elowen reached both hands toward Jordie and made the small open-mouthed sound she made for him. Jordie took her and held her against his shoulder without asking. Violetta pressed the ribbon flat against her palm. The showcase was done. The dress was done. What came next was a different kind of work.