In Your Room

by Jordanna Fraiberg

  “Well, good, because there’s no time to chat. We need to get going. I made a list of all the fabric stores in the area. If you don’t find anything there, we can close early and head into Denver. They have a much bigger selection.”

  “Thanks, but I kind of was hoping I could use something from here and, you know, recycle the fabric.”

  “Honey, you can use anything in this store—whether it’s for sale or hanging off my back—but are you sure you don’t want to pick exactly what you had in mind?”

  “This is what I had in mind. There are so many beautiful things here right in front of us.” She took a white cotton eyelet dress off the rack and held it up. “I mean, look at this. I could dye the fabric and use it to ruffle the collar. Oh, and I decided which dress I want to make.” She walked over to the table and opened the sketchbook to the correct page. “It’s this one here.”

  Penelope looked at the design and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  16

  In all the world there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.

  —Maya Angelou

  “Guess who I’m going to see, little guy,” Charlie said, rubbing Cheese’s chin. “That’s right, your favorite person!”

  He’d double-checked the Greyhound schedule from both L.A. and Boulder to Salt Lake City and then bought their tickets online. He made sure his bus got in first so he could get Molly flowers and scope out a place to eat when she arrived. They were going to have an hour together before catching the bus to Park City, and he wanted to make sure they could spend it somewhere nice. It was weird to think that in twelve days he’d be sitting right in front of her, face-to-face. He’d finally be able to touch her smooth, pale skin and see her dark, mysterious eyes up close.

  “Charlieeeee! There’s someone here to see you,” Heather screamed from downstairs.

  Charlie turned to look at Cheese, who was sitting on the pillow next to him. He still hadn’t left the room or gotten out of bed, and it was almost noon. “Who could it be, gray man?”

  He threw on a pair of sweats and had a shirt halfway over his head on his way out the door when he ran smack into someone standing on the other side. “Oh, man, are you okay? I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m sorry, your sister told me to come up. I was about to knock.”

  He pulled the shirt all the way on and saw who it was. He recognized her immediately. “Wait, you’re Rina, right?”

  She nodded. “I suppose Molly told you I’d be dropping by.”

  “She didn’t, but I’ve heard about you,” he explained. “And you’re all over the wall.” He pointed toward Molly’s collage.

  “Right, the wall. Oh, hey, Cheese.” Rina ran over to pick him up, but he darted away and took refuge behind Charlie’s legs. Rina tilted her head and squinted at Charlie. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was sizing him up. “Wow, he likes you.”

  Charlie shrugged. “So did Molly send you to vouch for me?”

  She looked up, busted. “Actually, it was my idea. I kind of insisted on it.”

  He smiled and sat down on the bed. “Well, ask me anything you want.”

  Rina blushed. “This seems so awkward now.”

  “Don’t worry—I get it. I’m glad Molly has someone like you, looking out for her and everything.”

  Rina paused. “Are you for real and do you have a brother?”

  Charlie laughed. “I’m not as great as I seem, but I guess I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

  “Now I see why you two get along so well. You both have that modesty thing down to a tee.”

  “So, do you have any tips for me? For when we meet?”

  “I don’t think you need my help.” She looked around the room and suddenly remembered Molly’s request. “Oops, I almost forgot, Molly actually did want me to get something for her.” She pulled the sewing basket out from under the desk and rummaged through until she found it. “Her lucky thimble.”

  “Her lucky thimble?” Charlie repeated, laughing.

  “That’s Molls. She has her quirks,” Rina said, sliding the basket back under the desk. “Well, it was great meeting you—”

  “Rina? Is that you?” Celeste sauntered into the room and tossed her bag on the bed before coming over to hug Rina. “When did you get back?”

  “Last night. I’m so incredibly jet-lagged. I was in India,” she explained to Charlie.

  He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Oh, cool.”

  “What are you doing here?” Rina asked.

  Charlie braced himself for Celeste’s response, hoping she wouldn’t say anything that Rina would misinterpret and relay back to Molly.

  Celeste pointed at the closet. “Borrowing a Molly special for an event tonight.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “What about you?”

  “Picking this up for Molly,” Rina said, holding out the thimble.

  “Awesome,” Celeste said. “That hopefully means she’s making something new I can borrow!”

  While Celeste was perusing Molly’s wardrobe, Charlie walked Rina to the door. When he got back to his room, Celeste was standing half-naked, wearing only a black lace bra and matching underwear. “Um…what are you doing?”

  “It’s nothing you don’t want to see.” She caught his eye in the mirror’s reflection.

  “Put some clothes on,” he said, turning away.

  “What’s your problem today?” She put her shirt back on. “You can turn around now.”

  “It’s nothing,” Charlie snapped. “I’m just busy.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Celeste said smugly. “Don’t worry, I’m really not here to see you.” She went into the closet and came out thirty seconds later carrying five dresses. “See? All done. I’ll get out of your way now.”

  Normally he would have apologized for being so harsh, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Celeste he didn’t trust so much as himself.

  She stormed past him, scooping up her bag, and slammed the door on her way out.

  • • •

  From: Rina

  To: Molly

  Date: July 20, 2008 2:50 P.M. PST

  Subject: OMG

  * * *

  Suffice it to say you have my blessing.

  And I got your thimble.

  P.S. Celeste is still raiding your closet, but I guess that’s no surprise.

  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo RD

  • • •

  From: Charlie

  To: Molly

  Date: July 25, 2008 9:47 A.M. PST

  Subject: Countdown

  * * *

  Only seven more days (sounds sooner than a week, don’t you think?)

  Was just thinking about you and wanted to let you know.

  Going for a ride.

  C

  From: Molly

  To: Charlie

  Date: July 25, 2008 2:16 P.M. MST

  Subject: Re: Countdown

  * * *

  You’re the sweetest person in the world, Charlie Richards. Now it’s only six and a half days away. That sounds even sooner.

  On my way to the button store. Pray to the button gods that they have four matching gold buttons!

  M

  From: Charlie

  To: Molly

  Date: July 25, 2008 5:36 P.M. PST

  Subject: buttons

  * * *

  I spent the last three hours praying to the button gods (there are four of them, it turns out). Did it work?

  From: Molly

  To: Charlie

  Date: July 25, 2008 8:18 P.M. MST

  Subject: Re: buttons

  * * *

  It did! I found them at the first store. You’re officially my hero now.

  17

  I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

  —Pablo Neruda, “Love Sonnet XVII”

  “Honey, there’s someone named Charlie on the phone for you,” Laura said, turning the volume down on the stereo.

  Mo
lly was listening to the music Charlie had sent her while hurrying to finish her application essay. Ron had offered to read it over, and she wanted to give it to him before he went to sleep. “Did you say Charlie?”

  Laura nodded. “Who is he?”

  Molly shot up, past her mother, downstairs to the receiver waiting off the hook on the side table in the hallway. “Hello?”

  “Molly? Is that you?” the voice on the other end asked. It was deeper than she’d imagined.

  “Hi, it’s me.” Her voice caught, like she had just woken up and was speaking for the first time that day.

  “Wow. It’s so great to hear your voice.”

  She switched the receiver to her other ear and tried to calm her trembling hands. “Yours too.”

  “I thought I’d call to wish you luck for tomorrow. I mean, it’s such a big deal, so an e-mail didn’t seem to cut it, you know?”

  She was too nervous to respond.

  “Also, I figured we should get our first awkward conversation out of the way before we meet.”

  Molly laughed. “Good thinking,” she said, relieved that it wasn’t just her. She started to breathe normally and relaxed her shoulders, which had been hiked up to her ears.

  “So, is it going to be an all-nighter?”

  “Shockingly, it’s not. I mean, I have a zillion things to do tomorrow, but FedEx is open till, like, nine, so I’ll have enough time.”

  “Molly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  She shuddered, hearing the sincerity and meaning in his voice. She couldn’t imagine what seeing him was going to do to her.

  “Molls, are you still there?” he asked tenderly.

  “I’m here,” she whispered back.

  “Everything’s going to be great.”

  She had every reason to believe he was right. She was about to submit her best work yet, something she could really be proud of, and in less than forty-eight hours she was going to meet the best guy she had ever known. “I hope so.”

  “You should get some sleep,” he said. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Wait, Charlie, don’t hang up!” she blurted before she could stop herself.

  “What is it?”

  Now that she had his undivided attention, the silence on the other end of the line was too intimidating. She couldn’t be the first to say those three short words that dangled from the tip of her tongue. “I—I can’t wait to see you either.”

  18

  The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.

  —G.K. Chesterton

  Ron was already sitting at the kitchen table when Molly came down for breakfast, her essay lying next to his plate with a half-eaten bagel on it.

  “You’re up early,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “I’m too excited to sleep.” She poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down next to him.

  “I read your essay,” he said, putting down his cup. “And I wouldn’t change a single word.”

  “You really think so?” Molly was nervous because she hadn’t presented any facts or addressed the business aspect of the industry, which was a big part of what the internship was about. She’d decided to just write about what she knew best: why fashion mattered to her. She really believed that more than just making pretty clothes, a designer had the opportunity to help people express different parts of their personalities through style. That’s why each piece in her collection was so diverse, to account for the whole person and how we aren’t necessarily the same every day.

  Ron reached his arm around her shoulders. “I hope that you know I’m proud of you.”

  It was the first time his touch didn’t make her squirm. “If you don’t have anything to do,” she said, “I was going for a quick ride before heading to the store.”

  “Really? I would love that,” Ron said, getting up from his chair. “Give me two minutes to change.”

  • • •

  Molly led the way along the city streets to the Betasso Preserve. She had been riding the three-mile trail every morning for the last two weeks before going in to work on her application.

  “It’s basically a loop,” Molly explained when they got to the trail entrance. “It gets a little steep at points, but then it’ll even out.”

  “Got it.”

  They made their way up, mostly in tandem with Molly in the lead, riding side by side when they could in the grassy meadows. They fell into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, like they had done this together a million times before.

  “Three hundred yards to the finish line,” Molly called out, pulling ahead for the final stretch.

  “I let you win,” Ron said amid deep, panting breaths when he reached the gate a few paces behind.

  “I bet you were faster when you were my age,” she said, riding circles around him while he sprayed water over his face.

  Molly threw her head back and stared up at the clear blue sky. “Quick! Look up!” she suddenly said, pointing above.

  Ron followed the direction of her finger to a bright, colorful bird, flying overhead. “Wow. I’ve never seen a bird like that.”

  “It’s a painted bunting. I saw one just the other day.”

  They watched the bird’s meandering path, a red, blue, and green paintball floating across the sky. Molly was certain that nothing in her world had ever looked so beautiful.

  • • •

  Molly rode straight to the store from the trail, thinking about Charlie the whole way. The painted bunting was a sign. She was convinced of it. A sign that her life was going to turn out all right, much better than she had ever expected.

  This time tomorrow I’ll be on my way to see him.

  She kept imagining her arrival, how Charlie would be waiting for her when she got off the bus. She wondered when they would first kiss, whether it would be right away, or later that night, after they’d had time to get used to each other. But one thing was certain—there would be a kiss. Her whole body fluttered just thinking about it.

  The front door was locked and the sign in the front window said CLOSED even though all the lights were on and Molly could see Penelope inside through the window. “What’s going on?” she asked, wheeling her bike to the back.

  “We’re closed today,” Penelope said.

  “I see that, but why?”

  “I figured you could use an extra pair of hands, and our customers can wait. I don’t want any argument out of you,” she said, as Molly was about to open her mouth.

  “Penelope! Thank—”

  “You can thank me later. Let’s get to work.”

  In the last two weeks the back room had become a full working studio. Scraps of cut fabric were spread out across the long, wide table next to the sewing machine. Molly’s sketches were tacked to a bulletin board hanging on the wall behind her workbench. Unlike the magazine cutouts she had up in her bedroom at home, which were almost exclusively from Vogue, most of these were nature shots of things like pine trees, wildflowers, and mountain peaks—all the things she had come to appreciate on her trail rides. She had even found a picture of a painted bunting on the Internet that she’d enlarged and color printed on glossy paper at Kinko’s. It hung in the middle of the board so she could look directly at it while she was at the sewing machine.

  She had touched up and redrawn her sketches to make them more presentable, and arranged them in a folder, with a guide describing the intended color and fabric of each item.

  All she had left to do was review all her materials and make the final adjustments to the dress, her prototype.

  She got goose bumps looking at it, even still on the dress form. The color had turned out exactly the way she had envisioned. It was a yellow cotton ruffle-trimmed dress with cap sleeves made from a combination of items she’d repurposed and dyed the same color, with round gold buttons down the center.

  “Aren’t you going to try it on?” Penelope asked, snapping Molly out of her reveri
e. She had the pins ready to mark the spots for alteration.

  Penelope helped her take it off the model. Molly held her breath as she carefully slipped it on over her head, pushing one arm through the sleeve, then the other, until it was hanging on her body. The ruffles fell perfectly, and the sleeves hit at exactly the right angle, right above the bicep.

  “Oh, Molly,” Penelope said, cupping her hands over her mouth.

  “Don’t cry yet! The hem’s too long.”

  “Okay, okay,” Penelope said, crouching down to pin the bottom.

  When she was done, Molly slipped out of the dress and shortened it on the sewing machine.

  Her mother arrived in time to see Molly wearing the dress for the final fitting before she had to pack it up to ship.

  “Don’t move. You either, Penelope,” Laura instructed, pointing a camera at them. “This is absolutely incredible, Molls. I just can’t get over what you’ve done.” She walked around the studio, taking in all the details that had gone into putting the dress and the entire portfolio together.

  “Thanks, Mom.” This was one compliment Molly could take. For the first time, she hadn’t been afraid to let herself go and let her creativity take over, and it had led to the best work of her life so far.

  “I’m so glad you have this special weekend planned with Rina. I want you to each get a mssage at the spa on me,” she said, handing Molly two one-hundred-dollar bills.

  Molly had never lied to her mother before—not about something as big as this. Laura might have agreed to let her go if she had explained everything, but Molly hadn’t been able to take the chance of her saying no.

  In the last couple of weeks things had started to return to normal between them, which made Molly feel even guiltier. “I don’t think we’re going to have time for that,” she said, trying to hand the money back.