Chapter Nine

Norah

I float through my day, barely paying any attention to my professors. My mind keeps drifting to the upcoming movie date with Eamon. Why did he agree to that? He can't honestly want to watch an animated movie with me. He's probably just one of those really nice guys who agreed because he didn't want to hurt my feelings. I'm suddenly second-guessing everything and feeling all sorts of stupid. Ugh. Why am I like this? No. I am not going to think like that. Layla's words come back to me and boost my confidence. Even if nothing romantic happens between us, maybe I'll at least make a new friend.

Arriving at Dr. Andrews' office, I knock twice before entering.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Andrews!" I greet him cheerfully.

"Hello, Miss Grady," he replies, looking at me curiously. " You're in an exceptionally good mood today."

"Yes, I am." I smile widely at him. "I was hoping to talk to you about the costumes for the garden scene."

"Oh no." His face falls and his eyes fill with concern. "Please tell me there's not a problem. I can't give up your idea. It's too perfect."

"Well…" I start. "It depends on how you look at it. The costumes can be done by dress rehearsal, but they aren't going to be done within the budget. I've scoured every source I can find for discounted fabric that will have the effect we're looking for, but I'm coming up empty-handed. I can cut corners in some areas, but for the overlays on the skirts, I can't."

He frowns, steeping his fingers together in front of his face, "I see. That is a predicament." He pauses to think for a moment before continuing, "I could talk to the Dean about a special allowance, but I'm not sure he'd be so keen. For now, just focus on finding the materials you need for Belle's dress. If we need to cut people from the scene or dim their attire, we will. But let me see what I can come up with in the meantime."

"Okay, I can do that," I tell him. "I'm spending this weekend doing nothing but working on costumes. Thank you, Dr. Andrews."

I stand to leave when he says, "Miss Grady, you really are one of a kind. You could do this for the big screens, you know."

I blush at the compliment. "I'm flattered that you think so."

* * *

On my way home, I stop by the fabric store in search of the perfect material for Belle's dress. The skirt will resemble an upside-down yellow rose, falling in soft layers that lightly brush the ground. The bodice will be modest with a scalloped off-shoulder neckline. Of course, she'll be wearing long gloves, but they'll be made of lace. As for the fullness of the skirt, that's still up in the air. A full ball gown will be a lot of work, but it needs to at least be an A-line.

I walk through row after row of fabrics before I find myself in front of white silk. I run my fingers over the soft material, immediately envisioning my newest design. Maybe wedding dresses should be in my future. Each one would be unique to the bride that wears it. Now my fingers are itching to sketch, but that will have to wait at least until I finish the costumes for Beauty and the Beast. But for now, I leave the store with samples of chiffon, crepe, and organza.

The sun is just starting to set when I get home. I unlock the door and step inside, flipping on the light. I love my house. It's a small, open-concept bungalow with one bedroom and one bathroom. There's a laundry room off of the kitchen that leads to the sunroom; it's my favorite part of the entire house. The natural lighting from the three walls of windows makes it the perfect sewing room

I set the fabric samples on the kitchen island and open the fridge to see what my dinner options are: an almost empty bag of cheese and a green pepper. I need to go grocery shopping, but maybe I can talk Layla into taking me tomorrow before I go back to Pat's for dish duty. My heart flutters at the thought of seeing Eamon again. I really need to get myself under control. This is ridiculous.

My phone buzzes, alerting me to a text message from Charlie.

Charlie: You home?

Me: Yeah, what's up?

Charlie: Missing you. Can I come over?

Me: Sure. No food here. Just a warning.

Charlie: I'll bring the wine. ;)

Charlie knows me so well, and guilt floods me when I realize that I haven't told her about the last couple of days with Eamon. I'll tell her tonight.

Twenty minutes later, Charlie walks through the door carrying a large brown paper bag.

"How much wine do you think we need, Charlie?" I laugh.

"After the day I've had, all of it. But I also brought dinner. Hope you're okay with Chinese!" she says brightly after setting the bag on the island and begins pulling out cartons from our favorite Chinese restaurant. My mouth immediately starts watering as the smell of General Tso's chicken fills the kitchen .

I give her a quick hug and say, "I'll grab the bowls and glasses while you tell me about your day. What has you so willing to destroy your liver?"

Charlie groans, positioning the corkscrew over the top of the first bottle of wine. "Today was just awful. For starters, we were short-staffed and then we had the worst afternoon rush in the history of afternoon rushes. It's like the whole world decided that at two o'clock this afternoon they all needed to come to my store. It was insane. I didn't even get to take a pee break until after my shift. And why are old people so damn cranky?"

I snort in amusement while I fill our bowls with rice. "You sound like Layla. There's not a day that goes by that she's not insulting the elderly."

Charlie has been the store manager for Starbucks for years. When she transferred from our hometown to Wilmington, they were glad to have her since the store back home had the highest ratings in the area. Nobody works harder than Charlie, so for her to even complain about a busy day is a big deal.

"Go sit down," I tell her, handing her a bowl. "Put your feet up. I'll pour your drink."

It's not often that I get to take care of Charlie. It makes me feel useful. I pour a glass of wine for each of us and move to the couch. Her bowl sits on the coffee table as she rests her head on the back of the sofa and sighs heavily.

She rolls her head in my direction. "What's new with you, Norie? I feel like we haven't had a chance to just talk in a while," she says, reaching a hand over to squeeze my arm.

Here we go.

"Well, it's funny that you ask. There have been some new developments with the costumes for the play, and I have a date with Eamon Kennedy next week," I say quickly before taking a sip of my wine.

Charlie bolts upright, eyes comically wide. "What? Why was that not the first thing out of your mouth when I came through the door?"

"You're having a bad day. I wanted to hear about it." I shrug, stuffing a fork full of chicken in my mouth.

"Oh, please. This trumps my shitty day at work, and you know it! Tell me how this happened! Have you told the others?" She's bouncing up and down in her seat, her wine sloshing around the glass precariously.

I carefully take the glass from her hand, setting it on the coffee table before replacing it with her bowl of food.

"You eat. I'll talk."

Charlie hastily scoops some rice into her mouth and I take a deep breath before telling her everything that's happened since Monday morning. She's a great listener, interjecting with the proper reactions at just the right time.

"Oh my god, Norah!" she squeals. "I'm so happy for you! You deserve this. I mean, I don't really know him, so of course, I'll have to approve. But if he passes all my tests, he sounds like a dream come true."

"Let's not get too excited. There's no guarantee this is going anywhere. He could just end up being a friend." Charlie starts to say something, but I cut her off. "I'm not trying to downgrade myself, but he is beyond gorgeous. And I'm still not sure if I can completely let myself do this. I feel safe when I'm with him, but what happens if things do progress and he tries to kiss me? What if I have a panic attack on him?"

The idea of Eamon kissing me makes my blood thump heavily through my veins.

"Just take it one day at a time. If he's worth it, he'll understand and walk this road with you. And if he doesn't understand, then he's not worth your time," Charlie says.

We talk for a couple more hours until Charlie can't hide her yawning anymore. She stands up and stretches.

"I've gotta go, Norie. I'll be dead on my feet if I don't go home and go to bed," she says, hugging me.

I squeeze her back. "Go. You need the rest. Love you."

"Love you. Keep me posted on the Eamon situation. Oh, and you know you're going to have to tell the others soon. Myra has some sort of radar, so beware," she says, shutting the door behind her.