Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing (29 page)

“Now that we have that settled,” Scarlet said, “Marco accused me of selling out. Do I still seem like the same Miss Scarlet from DaisyForever.com?”

Mary Theresa took a bite from her cake. “Why, because you almost hawked your grandmother’s prized vintage car to score cold cash?”

Scarlet stopped chewing to stare at her.

“I’m kidding. I hadn’t read your blog until recently, but I know you’ve changed since the beginning of class. You were excited before. Now, aside from being happy around Marco, you appear more stressed and worried because the stakes are higher with the tuition and all.”

“I’ll give it to you straight,” Olivia said. “You haven’t blogged since forever. I used to look forward to your chirpy words of wisdom every morning but now they’re dried up like a day-old chicken bone. But I know it’s because you’re so close to making it to New York. I’m still pissed at that Carly for turning away those dresses. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of going down there and—”

“You hardly talk about sewing anymore,” Jennifer said.

Scarlet threw her hands up in surrender. “Got it, thanks.” She reached into her bag, grabbed a small jar, and set it on the table.

“I’m going to put Daisy’s jar of buttons up for sale on eBay.”

“These are them?” Mary Theresa gasped, peering through the thick glass.

“Yes. But first I want each of us to have one in honor of our class, our friendship, and all that patternless sewing has taught us.” Scarlet twisted off the lid and passed the jar around so each woman could choose a button.

“If this jar sells for as much as Rosa said, it was meant for me to go on my trip.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Jennifer asked.

“In honor of Marco—who, by the way, wants nothing to do with me anymore—I’ll take it as a sign that the pairing of Johnny Scissors and Scarlet Santana was not meant to be and… I’ll give up.”

T
he New Year has come and gone, Rosa. It’s time to go back to New York, per our agreement,” Joseph said. “Don’t even consider trying to talk us out of it.”

Rosa’s first instinct was to smack his arm, but she didn’t have the energy so she stuck out her tongue instead. “I’m aware of that. Can I finish this meeting first?”

Joseph and the two other men in the room chuckled. “Of course.”

“All right, Rosa. Let’s get down to business. I understand that terminal cancer takes its toll on the body and mind,” Rosa’s lawyer, Brandon Jarvis, said. “But I seriously recommend you take time to really examine your reasoning for this request—and the consequences it will bring to your family.”

“My family is dead as far as I’m concerned,” Rosa chided, tightening her emerald taffeta robe across her chest.

Mr. Jarvis looked toward Joseph and Rosa’s doctor, Marvin Mercado, for help. They shrugged. They both knew once Rosa made up her mind, no one could change it.

“Technically, not,” Mr. Jarvis said, scratching his ear, the same way he did with all his difficult clients.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Rosa replied, raising her sore
voice. “I didn’t want it to happen like this, but I have to preserve this company so it will carry on for at least five more decades. My contracts are sealed like cement. This is my life, my death, my will. Not yours or anyone else’s. Joseph has the amended paperwork, and I want it implemented today. If you refuse, you’re fired.”

Joseph placed his hand on Rosa’s shoulders and handed the papers to Mr. Jarvis, who took them and speed-read them page by page. “Your wish is my command, Ms. Garcia, you know that. You’ve made me sprout many a gray hair over the years, but I always come through in your best interest.” He flipped to the last page and staggered a bit. “Wow. This is like a plot twist in a film, but I’ll follow through. If you change your mind, I’m on your speed dial.”

“I appreciate that, thank you, Mr. Jarvis. The pleasure is all mine,” Rosa said. “And please note the embargo date and the details surrounding it.”

“Noted,” Mr. Jarvis said, already highlighting various areas of the packet.

“Rosa, we need to increase your treatments immediately. We need to get you back home to New York,” said Dr. Mercado.

Rosa swallowed hard and nodded. “I know. I’ll need a few days to settle things here, say my good-byes, you know.”

Joseph sat at the edge of her bed and took her hand. “We have a car out front to take you now; it can’t wait. Especially if you want to fulfill—”

“OK! OK! Joseph, will you stay behind and stitch up the loose ends?” she said, motioning her hands in circles above her head. “Please tell them I’ll be in touch.”

*   *   *

At the same time, in another part of the city, clustered in front of Mary Theresa’s small laptop, Scarlet and her patternless sewing
class—minus Rosa but plus Rocky and Lucy—chewed their nails in suspense.

Last Monday night, Scarlet had scripted a press release to announce the upcoming one-day eBay auction of “Authentic Jar of Buttons Owned by Carmen Miranda and Daisy de la Flora.”

Reserve bid, $8,000, per Olivia’s instruction.

That’s too much!
Scarlet worried. But it was a tad more than what she needed to cover her expenses—and refund her students’ money, even though they said they wouldn’t take it. All five women had helped Scarlet craft the description and choose the best photos for the auction. After completing the online forms, they all placed their hands on the mouse to click Confirm.

“Wait!” Scarlet said. Her ruffled teal scarf framed her chin as she looked upward. “Daisy, wherever you are right now in the world, if you can hear or feel me—I’m handing this over to you. If it is meant to be, the reserve will be met, if not, I’ll let it go. I’ll still love you.

“OK, now!” Scarlet said to the group.

“Wait!” Olivia hollered, holding up her hands. She looked up too. “Dear Lord, work your will for Scarlet.”

Scarlet giggled. “Anyone else?” When no one replied, she pointed her finger. “Now!”

They all clicked the button and then sat back to watch. After a few minutes of no action, Mary Theresa went into her kitchen and prepared a big bowl of popcorn.

Jennifer and Stephanie clicked on the Refresh button every minute, and when they became bored, they taught Rocky and Lucy how to take over. A few minutes later they came back in the room with a game system. Jennifer plugged it into the TV.

“Do you mind if we set up Guitar Hero?” Stephanie asked Mary Theresa.

“Go right ahead; my home is your home. Have fun,” she replied.

Scarlet sucked in a deep breath and plopped down on Mary Theresa’s giant couch, ignoring the action around her. In the same dress that she wore on her first date with Marco, she crossed her legs and let her mind take a tour through their relationship. Not just the last few weeks, but all the way back to the first day she discovered Vega’s Vicious Vinyl and bought a 45 of Pérez Prado’s “Cherry Pink (And Apple Blossom White)” for one dollar. Marco told her it was the first sale, so she kissed the bill and handed it over and introduced herself. She thought about the conversation he had with her father.

“Why don’t you call him?” Mary Theresa said. “You can go in the other room if you like.”

Scarlet stood up. “I think I’ll do that.” She walked to the kitchen, picked up the phone on the counter, and dialed. Two rings passed and she tapped the plastic on the handset, tempted to hang up.

And then the ringing ceased. Her breath stopped and her eyes filled with tears that had been waiting for weeks to come out. Right as she was about to say “Hi, Dad,” she heard: “You’ve reached the Santana residence. We can’t take your call right now, but please leave a message at the beep.”

“Mom, Dad, it’s me. Just calling to let you guys know I love you. Talk to you soon….”

Scarlet didn’t have a chance to say much else. The shouts and hollers coming from the other room distracted her. She hung up and raced out to see what all the commotion was about.

“We got a bidder!” Olivia said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Scarlet—Daisy answered you! You’re going to the Big Apple!”

S
carlet nervously hummed as she sat in her Mercedes and checked her hair in the rearview mirror. After spending three hours morphing it from a side part with Veronica Lake finger waves to a Natalie Wood ’60s flip bob, she finally settled on a four-inch-high curly updo, complete with a fresh daisy behind her ear.

She never expected a send-off party, much less that her jar of buttons would end up selling for $24,000 dollars to an anonymous collector. By the end of the online auction, three bidders had waged a sniping war until the last second. Hoping the good news would break the ice with Marco, she sent him two texts. The first one about the auction, he replied to with a polite “Congrats!” and the second, to invite him to the party, he didn’t reply to at all.

Mary Theresa and Olivia spent the week after the auction organizing the shebang. Stephanie wrote a snappy press release as extra credit in her marketing class and blanketed the local media. Scarlet didn’t expect any reporters to bite, but the coupling of the auction with being the first Arizonan to break into the Johnny Scissors program qualified as a top local news story.

Scarlet made the rounds all week on local morning shows
and afternoon radio to share her story about her roller-coaster ride to triumph. Carly even called and offered to sit in on interviews with Scarlet to talk about how wonderful she was at her former job. Scarlet didn’t bother to reply to her message.

Despite the publicity, Scarlet only expected a small crowd of her local followers and, of course, her family. She tossed her lipstick into her purse and climbed out of the car. She shut the door with a swing of her hip and used one hand to tighten her coat’s patent-leather belt and the other hand to lift her cell and thumb-dial her sister, Eliza.

Between the voice-mail apology Scarlet left on her parents’ answering machine and another message about the good news of the auction, she knew they’d come. If anything, her dad had to be impressed at the $24,000 she made in one night from the buttons. Tonight they would all hug it out and wipe the slate clean.

“Hi, Sis!”’ Scarlet said cheerfully when Eliza answered. “I saved tickets for all of you; they’re at the will-call window. I hope you guys are ready to dance. There’s a super groovy blues band performing!”

A thick pause followed.

“Oh, hey Scar,” Eliza replied.

Scarlet curled in her lips. She knew what would come next.

“But, uh, sorry, we won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Eliza, you guys
have
to come, this is a
big
deal for me, I was even on the news promoting it. Didn’t anyone see?”

“Charles is in Seattle for his job this week. And Mom has been so stressed out that Dad took her to Hawaii for a New Year’s vacation. They’ll be back tomorrow. Not that you would know, since you haven’t talked to them in weeks.”

Eliza and her guilt trips,
Scarlet thought as she began to pace in the empty parking space next to her.

“You’re the one who told me to stay away! Plus, I’ve been a
little busy over here,” she said. “Not that you would know, since you nor any other Santana have ever taken an interest in my life. I thought maybe this one time…”