16. Fable

Chapter 16

Fable

T he first thing I realize is that Steele isn't a very big town, and yet it is somehow still very well-known. Gunnar explains it's because of a famous bull rider who came from Steele back in the nineties, Frederick Savage. Their small rodeo attracts thousands and often births famous rodeo performers. Apparently, there's also a famous country singer from Steele and a famous barrel racer. All of that put Steele on the map and so while it's a small town, it's well-maintained and cute.

Surprisingly, Steele does have a small craft store. When Gunnar, Mr. Frizzle, and I pull up to Handcrafted Happiness, I'm amped up with nervous energy. I haven't done this since. . . before. I haven't even touched my sewing machine. But now, the urge is so strong, I can't resist. I need to make something. I need to make. . . anything. As long as I'm making.

"We used to not have a craft store," Gunnar explains. "But a few years ago, Martha Duncan, Fred Duncan's wife, decided that we needed one. Apparently, a bunch of the other wives thought so, too, ‘cause she's still open. I don't know how much fabric she has and it's relatively small, but it might be what you're lookin' for," he explains as he leads me into the store.

The moment the little bell over the door chimes, a woman perks up from behind the counter. She's older, probably in her mid-forties, and when she sees us, she beams. "Gunnar Hall! I ain't ever seen you in this store!"

"I don't do much craftin', ma'am," he explains sheepishly. "But I come bringin' a customer who does. This here is Fable. She's been staying at Circle Bee."

Martha looks over at me and practically beams. "Nice to meet you, Fable. My name is Martha. What kind of craftin' you lookin' to get into?"

"Do you have fabric?" I ask. "And sewing supplies?"

"I do!" She gushes, pulling me over to the back corner. "It's not extensive, but I do have some nice fabrics I just got in." She points to a shelf full of intricate leathers and materials, including some bright sheen silk. "I ordered some of these so Betsy could make her daughter a prom dress, but she decided on a simple black one. I'd be so honored if you made something pretty with it."

I reach out and trace my fingers over the materials, sighing at the feeling of it. "I'll take it," I rasp. "Mind if I shop through the rest?"

"You go on right ahead," she exclaims. "Oh, I'm so excited."

She grabs the pretty silk and moves over to the counter.

"Want me to carry your selections?" Gunnar asks. "I can take them up to the counter for you."

"Please," I whisper, meeting his eyes. It feels a little sour to be here, to be selecting material to sew, but Jinx appears a second later, her eyes on the fabric.

" The sparkly ones ," she orders. " Those will make a great cosmic cowgirl cosplay ."

I grab the one she looks at and hand it to Gunnar.

" You need all the cosplays ," Jinx says. " This cowboy right here, I want you to blow him away tomorrow, Everhart ."

Gunnar is clearly out of his element as I hand him material after material, but he patiently goes and sets it up at the counter for Martha.

"What do you do with all of this?" he asks as he drops the third load up there. "Make blankets?"

"Clothes," I explain, looking through the embellishments. "I may be a bit of a nerd. I enjoy, like. . . cosplaying and LARPing."

"Cosplaying?" he repeats. "LARPing? I don't know what either of those two words mean."

I chuckle and hand him a stack of buttons. "Cosplaying is like making a costume of a character you like and dressing up."

"Oh! Like Halloween!" he exclaims. "I love Halloween."

"Kind of, but any time of year, and there's no candy."

"No candy," he gasps. "Blasphemous!"

"You usually cosplay for conventions or. . . renaissance festivals. Things like that," I explain. "It's fun. You can make a character exactly how they are, or you can make them unique. I did a bedazzled Mandalorian at one point. I called him the Glamdalorian. Another cosplayer inspired me to try my hand at it."

"And what's LARPing?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Live Action Role Playing," I explain. "You dress up in your costume, usually have a character sheet, and you roleplay different things. I prefer battles personally. I have a whole list of characters I usually choose from but. . ." I trail off at the goofy smile on Gunnar's face. "What?" I ask.

"Oh, you're a mega nerd," he laughs and ruffles my hair. "I like it. This all sounds awesome. So, what are you going to cosplay as?" he asks, picking up a fuzzy material. "Sasquatch?"

I snort. "No. A cowgirl. Duh."

His smile brightens. "Well, I for one can't wait to see it," he grins. "But if you're gonna be a real cowgirl, you're gonna have to get a better hat when we have more time."

"You're right," I nod. "We'll come back. I know you're busy and I took you away from work."

"Worth it to see you smile," he says, and turns to carry the items to the counter where Martha is furiously cutting material. When it's time to pay and she adds everything up, I stare at it before pulling the card from my wallet. I study the card for a minute, the one where Jinx and I shared expenses and the settlement money now sits. I haven't used it since the accident. I haven't touched a cent.

" Do it," Jinx says as she stands behind Martha. " I insist, Everhart ."

Swallowing, I pass the card over to Martha. My stomach roils, but I manage to keep it together enough that Gunnar doesn't notice. He doesn't even hesitate to push me toward the driver's seat after he loads the back with all my materials.

" That's a good man right there ," Jinx says. " A real good man ."

Fuck, I know he is. He so is.