by Nancy Moser
“You do?”
“I think we’re having a daughter.”
“Why?”
“I just always think of the baby as a girl. And with Unruffled opening…I can imagine her growing up in the shop among Edna, Maude, Henrietta, and your mother, playing in the dressing rooms, trying on hats, and even helping us choose fabrics for new dresses. She will have exquisite fashion sense.”
“She’ll learn to sew, of course.”
“Better than me. For she will have many teachers.”
His face relaxed with the vision of it. “I can see it too.”
Annie changed position so she could nestle under his arm. He kissed her hair. “I pray Unruffled is a success. So many people depend on it being so.”
She felt him take a breath to speak, but when he didn’t say anything, she drew back to look at him. “What?”
He grinned. “I have a surprise coming.”
“Tell me!”
“Not yet.”
“A good surprise?”
He pointed to his smile. “What do you think?”
“I think I want you to tell me.”
He pulled her back under his arm. “Be patient, Annie-girl.”
Patience was not one of her virtues.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, November 30. Annie and her friends had spent the holiday counting their blessings and enjoying a feast at Edna’s. Yet beyond the blessings were prayers for what was to come: the fashion show and the opening of Unruffled.
Thank God it’s a sunny day.
That bit of gratitude held the place of honor in Annie’s mind as she helped the models ready for the show. What would they have done if it had been raining? Or snowing?
Those worries didn’t matter, because God had provided them with a bright sky and temperatures in the fifties. Although warm enough to go without, the ladies opted to use their shawls as a fashion accessory.
The Sampsons had offered to have the fashion show in their home if need be, but the entire purpose of this street show was to display their fashion among the women who would wear it—not merely a few invited guests in a Fifth Avenue mansion.
Besides, letting Mrs. Sampson take possession of the show would have been a large step back in their relationship. Be it pride or some other vice, Annie was glad the show could go on as planned in front of the shop.
Sean and Steven came into the store with a report. “There are people lining the street. I see four new street vendors selling sandwiches, roasted nuts, bakery items, and hot coffee.”
“Are the other stores ready?”
“They are. Some even have tables outside, displaying a sampling of their wares.”
Edna linked her arm through Annie’s. “It’s working. Just as you envisioned.”
Next, Vesta came inside and proclaimed, “They’re asking when it’s going to start.”
Annie took a deep breath and let it out. “I suppose we are as ready as we’ll ever be.”
Mrs. Sampson raised her arm in victory. “I’ve been ready for this all my life. Ladies, follow me!” She nodded to her husband, and the couple exited first. Eleanor carried a rolled-up sign she shared with Mr. Sampson, who walked to the other side of the street, unfurling it: Now OPEN! UNRUFFLED: FASHION FOR THE UNRUFFLED, UNVEILED, UNSTOPPABLE WOMAN!
“You next, gentlemen,” Annie told the musicians who waited nearby, wearing beautiful plaid kilts. They’d discovered the group after hearing them practicing in a room above the shoe store.
Mr. Stuart filled his bagpipes, like breathing life into an animal. His son took up his drum, and together they stepped out behind the Sampsons. Annie spotted two pieces of paper pinned to the back of their jackets: STUART MUSIC FOR HIRE. She admired their pluck. Perhaps they’d get some new business out of the day.
“Just keep playing!” Annie called after them.
In mere moments, she heard the first haunting wail of the pipe. It soon filled the street side to side, careening off the roofs and into the sky. The younger Stuart marked the beat.
Maude laughed. “If that doesn’t get everyone’s attention, I don’t know what will.”
“Go now, ladies,” Annie said. “Strut, walk, dance down the street. Stop to talk to people. Show off your dresses. Have a glorious time!”
One by one the models left the store, walking in time to the music, their shawls a prop that gave them wings.
“They’re doing it!” Edna said. “Look at Mrs. Tuttle dance with Jane!”
Annie laughed at her exuberant friend and her usually shy daughter. “This is what I want our fashion to do. Set women free.”
Sean pushed her out the door. “Go on now. Walk after them, all of you. Enjoy your moment. Steven, Richard, and I will stay here.”
“And me,” Birdie said.
“Get our first sale, Birdie.” That said, Annie, Maude, Henrietta, Edna, and Vesta formed a line and took up the rear of the parade, waving wildly.
Surprisingly, many of the people on the sidewalks applauded at seeing them and called out “Congratulations!” and “Job well done!”
Annie felt her entire being overflow with a goal accomplished, a victory won.
But the true test would come afterward. Would anyone buy the dresses?
As she passed Helen’s Hats, she saw Helen speaking with two women about her own hat and others in the shop window. One woman pointed at Mildred’s hat, and Mildred stepped over to join the conversation.
Mr. Stabler was pointing out a necklace worn by young Betsy.
Mrs. O’Hanna had a small table of gloves and fans outside her store and was showing a beautiful plaid parasol to a customer.
And Mr. Meindorff was doing a hefty business, tempting a woman with the shoes that Mrs. Trainer was wearing.
“It’s working,” Maude said to her. “Just as you planned.”
Annie heard an inner voice. Just as I planned.
She shivered with joyful gratitude. “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered.
“Look.” Edna pointed to Maybelle, Gloria, and Mrs. Dietrich, all chatting with three other women. The sleeves must have been the subject of discussion, for they were being studied.
Her friends from Butterick were speaking with another group, with Dora turning in a full circle while a woman felt the fabric in Suzanne’s dress.
A few steps later, Annie saw that Mrs. Tuttle and Jane had expanded their dance to include a passel of neighborhood children. She spotted her friend Iris marking the beat with her baby strapped in a sling across her chest. Iris, a fellow maid who had run away with Annie. Iris, who had found happiness marrying the Tuttles’ son. It was all such a marvel.
Iris saw her and hurried over. They embraced around baby Danielle Ann. Annie peeked at the child. “She’s such a darling. And getting big.”
“She’s nearly two months old.” Iris checked out Annie’s midsection. “And you are due when?”
“February.” Annie put a hand on her own child. “I’m excited. And more than a wee bit scared.”
Iris gave Danielle her little finger to suckle. “I was too, and now look at me. There is nothing like motherhood. I promise.”
“So people say.”
Iris nodded toward Unruffled at the far end of the street. “You’re not just a shop girl anymore, Annie. You have your own shop. You achieved what you set out to do.”
Annie remembered how Iris had wanted to work in a shop too. Yet her life had taken a far different turn. “Are you happy with the Tuttles and the bakery?”
“It’s where I’m meant to be.”
Annie nodded, understanding completely.
Iris squeezed her hand. “We did well leaving as we did.”
The Stuarts stopped their walking and turned toward the revelers. Mr. and Mrs. Sampson turned their sign too, and soon the entire street was full of people gleefully dancing together, linking arms, waving shawls, clapping to the music. There was much hooting and laughing.
Sean slipped b
eside her. “Are you happy?”
“More than that. I am blessed.”
Annie watched as Birdie carried a neatly wrapped parcel to the front counter. It was tied with twine, including a handle she’d created. “Here you are, Miss Steel.”
The customer took the package. “Thank you, Birdie. And thank you for helping me find the right size.”
The girl beamed then remembered something. “Did you put your name in the box? There will be a drawing for a free dress.”
“I did.”
“I hope you win,” Birdie said confidentially.
“Me too,” the woman whispered.
“Come again soon.”
“I most certainly will.” Miss Steel left the store, perusing one last rack of dresses on the way.
“You’re doing well,” Annie told the girl.
“I’m enjoying it so much. I never thought a moment about fashion until seeing those dresses Johnny stole for me. And now, helping women find their own dresses…” She sighed and looked down at the dress Annie had supplied as a uniform. “I’m so thankful for the two working dresses you gave me.”
“You’re very welcome. I believe we are our own best advertisement.”
Birdie smoothed the dress against her hips. “It makes me feel pretty.”
“Pale blue is a good color for you. It matches your eyes.”
“That’s what I told Miss Steel about her dress. It really did bring out her eye color.”
“Good for you.” Annie saw a woman looking at the Magnolia dress. “Go see if she needs assistance.”
Annie moved behind the counter and adjusted a rose in the huge bouquet Lena had sent for their opening. She leaned close to take in the heady scent, which reminded her of the gardens back at Crompton Hall. When it had been nice outside, she would often take her assigned mending out among the flowers where she could enjoy the sunshine and their heady scent.
It was a lifetime ago.
She spotted a little boy taking a piece of shortbread from a plate near the door. He moved to take a second one but saw Annie watching him. She held up one finger. He smiled and let the second one lie. The Tuttles had been generous, supplying ten dozen biscuits. The day had been full of music, food, fashion, and frivolity.
And sales.
Annie moved to check with Henrietta, who was in charge of keeping track of inventory. She stood back from the counter, a clipboard and pencil in hand.
“How are we doing?” Annie asked.
“We’ve sold twenty-two dresses already.”
Unbelieving, Annie took the clipboard. Henrietta had made a list of all the dresses and sizes in neat rows and columns. The blue chambray dress—the Bluebell—and size thirty-two bust were the biggest sellers. And though they had sewn two in each of the eight sizes, two styles had only sold one each. Adjustments would be made to supply the demand.
Annie found great delight in seeing Maude help her mother choose a dress. Hans stood nearby, giving his opinion.
Then she spotted Mr. and Mrs. Sampson come in from holding court outside. They brought with them two men holding notepads and pencils.
“Annie, come talk to these fine journalists. They wish to write an article about Unruffled.”
“Each, an article,” said the tallest man. “Joe there works for the Herald, and I work for the Tribune.”
Annie called Maude over and introduced her. “Maude, will you take care of these gentlemen, please?”
Maude would not be rattled by such men. She would provide them with a fine story for their articles.
Edna, Vesta, Gert, and Birdie were all helping customers. The fitting rooms were full. Annie spotted Steven peeking out from the back room where he was wrapping purchases.
Where was Sean? She’d lost track of him during the last hour. But then she saw him through the front window. He was talking with a woman…
They both turned to come inside and Annie recognized her old boss at Butterick. She rushed to greet her. “Mrs. Downs! How nice of you to come.”
The woman kissed Annie’s cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it.” She drew Sean close. “Sean has been talking of nothing else for months.”
“He is our biggest supporter.”
“He’s more than that,” Mrs. Downs said.
“What?”
“He is your biggest promoter.”
Annie wasn’t certain what she meant. “Promoter?”
Mrs. Downs looked to Sean. “Would you like to tell her, or should I?”
Sean offered her a bow. “I give you the honor.”
What were they talking about?
Mrs. Downs took Annie’s hands in hers. “Some weeks ago your dear husband came to me with a revolutionary idea. I pooh-poohed it at first, but he was quite insistent that Unruffled would be a success, and even more than that, that your designs, dear Annie, would be a success. After seeing your sketches, I agreed and went to the higher-ups at Butterick. And”—she took a new breath for effect—“and they have finally agreed that we would like to create sewing patterns from your designs.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. “Patterns?”
Sean explained. “We’d still have the ready-made dresses sold in the store, but we could also provide patterns to the home sewer who may want to create her own version.”
“You’d be expanding your customer base, Annie,” Mrs. Downs said.
Annie put a hand to her forehead, trying to take it all in. “Patterns. Of our designs.”
“We’ll give you credit, printing the Unruffled logo on the pattern envelope.”
She looked to Sean, who nodded. “It could be huge, Annie-girl.”
Tears threatened, a full welling up of joy, surprise, and awe.
He saw her turmoil and put an arm around her. “Happy tears?”
“Flabbergasted, happy tears.” She took a cleansing breath. “Thank you, Mrs. Downs. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Thank your husband. It was his idea.”
Oh, she would thank him. Very definitely.
Annie stood before her friends in Edna’s parlor where they had gathered to rehash the day.
She’d just told them about the partnership with Butterick.
They stared at her.
She was not surprised.
Edna was the first to speak. “Do you realize this means our designs will be worn all over the country, as women sew up creations by Unruffled?”
“All over the world,” Maude said. “Remember that Butterick has storefronts in London, Paris, and Vienna.”
“Oh my.” Vesta put a hand to her chest. “Europe?”
Sean nodded. “It is part of my job to call on them each spring. Next year I will have a special incentive.”
“Next year you’ll have a new baby.” Annie wondered how the timing would work out.
He gave her one of his looks that said, Don’t worry.
“We’ll have to get some bins to hold the patterns,” Edna said. “And a display rack.”
“Or two,” Steven said. “You have twelve dresses this season, but each season you’ll add more.”
“Oh my,” Vesta repeated.
Everyone started talking at once, bringing up every detail, every challenge.
Henrietta stood amid the chatter, interrupting. “Excuse me, but we need to set aside this splendid news to take care of immediate business. Our stock is depleted. We need dresses made as soon as possible.” She pointed at her clipboard. “We had a successful opening, and word will—”
“How successful?” Sean asked.
She consulted her statistics. “We sold sixty-three dresses.”
“That’s nearly a third of our stock,” Annie said.
“And some sizes are completely sold out,” Henrietta noted.
“Gert, Ginny, and Edna can’t sew that fast,” Vesta said.
“We’ll have to hire more girls immediately,” Maude said.
“Perhaps we need a factory,” Sean said.
Annie was taken aback by the imme
nsity of the idea. Her shock must have shown on her face, for Sean added, “Someday.”
They needed to get through next week first.
Henrietta held up the list. “Also, some women were interested in the shawls.”
“But those were only for the show,” Annie said.
Henrietta shrugged. “Perhaps we should make some to sell.”
Gracious sakes.
Henrietta continued. “I know which sizes and styles have sold out, and all the details. We need to make those first, before any shawls are made.”
Annie sighed with the task of it. “Henrietta, thank you for your careful records. Without them we would be flying blind.”
“We can work tomorrow,” Vesta said.
“But it’s Sunday,” Edna said. “It’s the Sabbath.”
Although there was work to be done, Annie made a decision. “We will not work tomorrow. We will go to church together, thank God together—”
“And ask Him for extra skill and fortitude,” Maude said.
Annie nodded and shared an idea. “And then we’ll go to Central Park and—if the weather holds—have a picnic to relax, rejuvenate, and celebrate.”
Steven looked suddenly pensive. “What time tomorrow? Where should we meet?”
“Meet? We’ll all go together.”
“I—I have something to do in the morning,” he said. “I will meet you there.”
“All right then,” Annie said. “One o’clock at the Bethesda Fountain.”
Maude perused the list. “A picnic sounds lovely, but maybe I should cut out some dresses tomorrow afternoon. To be ready to sew on Monday.”
Annie shook her head adamantly. “No. God has granted us great favor today and has given us hope for a promising future through our partnership with Butterick. In appreciation we can grant Him a day of rest, as He commanded.”
No one argued, and Annie felt stronger for the decision. Surely God approved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Annie awakened to find that Sean wasn’t in bed—or anywhere in their flat. It was still early morning, so she had no idea where he could have gone. And then she remembered.
The newspaper! They’d been told by the newspaper reporters there would be articles today. She felt an inner twinge. What if they said something negative? What if they disparaged the shop, or worse than that, the designs?
