accent.”
I wave my hands in front of her to stop her. “Hold on, let me see if I’m understanding this correctly. Somebody wants me to make something for them?”
She nods.
A sewing project I will be paid for? When I started this endeavor, I imagined it taking a little bit of time before it goes anywhere.
I beam. “This is great! What kind of pillows does she want?”
“She said she liked the style of the ones you made, only her colors would be deep red with black trim. She’s going to email me some pictures of the room as a reference.”
“How much is she going to pay?”
When she tells me, my jaw drops.
Faith laughs at my reaction. “Don’t be so surprised! We need to go to a craft show sometime. That is pretty much the average.”
Shows how much I know about these things. I was expecting maybe half that. “Thank you, Aunt Faith. This is just great.”
The rest of the day is spent in planning the pillows. In the excitement of my first sale, I start to plot out more ideas. They begin to flow out, a new wave of creativity at my fingertips. I had no idea how much I would love designing and sewing things myself. The stuff I made when I was little was fun but it's different now. Different maybe because I’m older and have a better sense of color and design.
When it becomes time to go home, I take the long route so I can drive by Chevy’s house. Upon seeing his car in the driveway, I am relieved he's home safe. Part of me is a little hurt that I haven't heard from him since he's obviously home. I'd like to stop in but I don’t want to come across as needy. I've already left him a couple voicemails and one text message, and even that many feels like too many.
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday, June 30 th
I'm about to give up hope.
Upon opening my eyes Saturday, I have zero motivation to do anything. I can’t work on my project. I can’t go to the store for material until tomorrow. I lay on my bed browsing through fashion magazines. At least I can work on ideas.
It’s mid afternoon when the doorbell rings. Since no one else is home, I have to get up to answer it. Why does this have to happen when I’m comfortable? I trudge down the stairs to the door.
I'm not prepared to find Chevy standing on the other side.
After a week of wondering where he was, here he stands in front of me.
I must have been staring for a while because he raises his eyebrows and says, “Adrienne, are you going to let me in?”
I blink a few times, shaking myself out of the shock. “Of course,” I say, holding the door open so he can step in. “I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“I could imagine,” he says. “Could we go somewhere and talk?”
This takes me aback, but I nod. “Sure,” I say as I lead him upstairs to my room. On the way up, I wonder what it is that he wants to say. His presence after being away is creating a new kind of nervousness inside of me. I pick up the mess of magazines strewn out to make room for us to sit on my bed.
Once he sits, I ask, “What is it that you want to talk about?”
He is quiet for a moment. “I guess, first of all, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. If I could have called, I would have. I’ve been grounded.”
“Grounded? What happened?”
He lets out a sigh. “To put it plainly, I was irresponsible. I spent an extra day in New York and, instead of calling my parents to let them know, I just showed up a day later. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, it was only one day, right? When I got home, I was reamed out. My mom was worried and my dad was pissed because he needed me to work. ” He holds out his hand and touches his index finger. “They took away my phone.” Then he touches his middle finger. “They took away my car.” Then he touches his ring finger. “ And I wasn’t allowed to leave the house unless it was for work.”
“That’s no good.”
“I know. They lifted the grounding this morning. I have my phone back, and obviously, I can go
I wave my hands in front of her to stop her. “Hold on, let me see if I’m understanding this correctly. Somebody wants me to make something for them?”
She nods.
A sewing project I will be paid for? When I started this endeavor, I imagined it taking a little bit of time before it goes anywhere.
I beam. “This is great! What kind of pillows does she want?”
“She said she liked the style of the ones you made, only her colors would be deep red with black trim. She’s going to email me some pictures of the room as a reference.”
“How much is she going to pay?”
When she tells me, my jaw drops.
Faith laughs at my reaction. “Don’t be so surprised! We need to go to a craft show sometime. That is pretty much the average.”
Shows how much I know about these things. I was expecting maybe half that. “Thank you, Aunt Faith. This is just great.”
The rest of the day is spent in planning the pillows. In the excitement of my first sale, I start to plot out more ideas. They begin to flow out, a new wave of creativity at my fingertips. I had no idea how much I would love designing and sewing things myself. The stuff I made when I was little was fun but it's different now. Different maybe because I’m older and have a better sense of color and design.
When it becomes time to go home, I take the long route so I can drive by Chevy’s house. Upon seeing his car in the driveway, I am relieved he's home safe. Part of me is a little hurt that I haven't heard from him since he's obviously home. I'd like to stop in but I don’t want to come across as needy. I've already left him a couple voicemails and one text message, and even that many feels like too many.
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday, June 30 th
I'm about to give up hope.
Upon opening my eyes Saturday, I have zero motivation to do anything. I can’t work on my project. I can’t go to the store for material until tomorrow. I lay on my bed browsing through fashion magazines. At least I can work on ideas.
It’s mid afternoon when the doorbell rings. Since no one else is home, I have to get up to answer it. Why does this have to happen when I’m comfortable? I trudge down the stairs to the door.
I'm not prepared to find Chevy standing on the other side.
After a week of wondering where he was, here he stands in front of me.
I must have been staring for a while because he raises his eyebrows and says, “Adrienne, are you going to let me in?”
I blink a few times, shaking myself out of the shock. “Of course,” I say, holding the door open so he can step in. “I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“I could imagine,” he says. “Could we go somewhere and talk?”
This takes me aback, but I nod. “Sure,” I say as I lead him upstairs to my room. On the way up, I wonder what it is that he wants to say. His presence after being away is creating a new kind of nervousness inside of me. I pick up the mess of magazines strewn out to make room for us to sit on my bed.
Once he sits, I ask, “What is it that you want to talk about?”
He is quiet for a moment. “I guess, first of all, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. If I could have called, I would have. I’ve been grounded.”
“Grounded? What happened?”
He lets out a sigh. “To put it plainly, I was irresponsible. I spent an extra day in New York and, instead of calling my parents to let them know, I just showed up a day later. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, it was only one day, right? When I got home, I was reamed out. My mom was worried and my dad was pissed because he needed me to work. ” He holds out his hand and touches his index finger. “They took away my phone.” Then he touches his middle finger. “They took away my car.” Then he touches his ring finger. “ And I wasn’t allowed to leave the house unless it was for work.”
“That’s no good.”
“I know. They lifted the grounding this morning. I have my phone back, and obviously, I can go
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