Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 65 of 65

The reception ran until dark. Then the families drove home in a slow line of headlights, and Violetta and Jordie went to the new house together for the first time as a married couple. It was a five-bedroom with a wraparound porch. Jordie had signed the papers two weeks before the wedding. He wanted more room for Eli and Elowen and a yard the puppy could tear up. Violetta had walked through it once with a coffee in her hand and said yes. Now she stood in the doorway in her red dress and her heels and looked at the empty front room. Boxes lined the wall. A crib waited in the corner for Eli. A small bed for Elowen sat against the far wall with a stuffed rabbit on the pillow. "We can unpack tomorrow," Jordie said behind her. He carried Eli against his chest. Eli was still asleep. Elowen was already at Lymber and Paul's for the night. "I know." "You don't have to do anything tonight." She kicked off her heels and left them by the door. The wood floor was cold. She walked to the room at the back of the house. Jordie had promised her this one. It faced the yard. It had two windows and a long wall for a cutting table. She stood in the middle of the empty room. She could see the table already. She could see the dress form in the corner and the fabric on the shelves. She had told Paul she would enter the next showcase. She had told Lymber she was not done. Jordie came to the doorway with Eli. "This the one?" "This is the one." He looked around. "Good light." "Good light." Her phone buzzed in her clutch by the door. She walked back and read it. Lymber. A picture of Elowen asleep in Paul's chair with the rabbit's twin under her arm. Below it: Proud of you today. Get some sleep. Violetta typed back: Tomorrow I start the sketch. She put the phone down and did not check it again. Jordie was in the kitchen now, warming a bottle one-handed. Eli stirred against his shoulder. The house was quiet in a way none of her houses had ever been quiet. She walked back to the empty studio room. She stood at the window and looked at the dark yard and thought about the dress she would draw in the morning. Ivory. Long sleeves. One clear idea. She had eight months until the spring showcase. She had a husband asleep on his feet in the next room and two children who would need her at six in the morning. She turned off the light and closed the door. The room would wait. She had a bed now, and a name that matched his, and a table coming Monday. Tomorrow she would begin.