A McClendon Thanksgiving Page 5

“I’ll be sure to say good night,” he said, smiling.

  Michael flashed a smile that caused Faith’s heart to beat wildly in her chest. Her eyes rested on the shape of his lips and quickly she realized that she had been assessing him.

  Faith picked up her purse and hurried to the car. She was embarrassed by what just happened. It reminded her of the kiss they’d shared the other night.

  That’s what started all of this.

  She didn’t want to say anything to Michael, for fear that he would be offended. She would just have to have a talk with her own body.

  It was very late when Faith got back to her parents’ place. She had gone to several furniture showrooms, looking for specific pieces for her new apartment. She hadn’t found anything, so in the morning she was going to start looking online, at the suggestion of the sales clerk who’d assisted her. Whatever Faith ordered could be shipped to the local store, with them being responsible for scheduling a local delivery when convenient for her. Not a bad deal, in her eyes.

  Faith had gotten so busy that she forgot her promise to Michael that she would call him to say good night. Sitting Indian style in her bed, she pulled the cell phone from her leather handbag. As soon as she pressed the button, Faith saw a text message from him. Michael wanted to wish her a peaceful night’s rest and he was so very proud of her.

  As Faith read the words, a bright smile grew on her face and, again, she wasn’t surprised because the message was classic Michael. She replied with a simple thank you.

  Chapter Five

  A warm ray of light was streaming through the delicate draperies covering Faith’s bedroom windows when her eyes fluttered open the next morning. She saw it as another chance to experience a brand-new day and make it count. There was so much she had to do still, but Faith felt good about the steps she’d taken already to secure her future.

  Gold star for Faith, she thought to herself and laughed.

  She picked up the keys to her apartment and quickly made arrangements with the storage facility in New York to have her things sent to Chicago. When Kevin asked for a divorce, she had put her things in storage and contacted one of her college roommates, asking if she could stay with her for a week, or until she found an apartment. Lucky for Faith, Carol’s previous roommate had just moved out after her Labor Day-weekend wedding, so Carol agreed that Faith could move in.

  Faith roomed with Carol for over a year until she moved back to Chicago. She would have left sooner, but Kevin delayed the divorce. Each time they were scheduled to meet with their lawyers, he never showed up. He did it over and over again, until Faith got fed up and pressured her attorney to do something about it. The divorce ended up costing her a lot more money than anticipated.

  Despite the hardships, Faith had enjoyed her time at her parents’ house and was excited to get started on some dress designs that she’d sketched out for the boutique before she left New York.

  Leaning against the window casing, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on her skin, Faith stared directly across the street to Michael’s mother’s house. Margaret Montgomery was a sweet woman who only wanted to see young people achieve the best in life. She was a wonderful encourager and great to have in your corner if you needed a strong person to lean on. Faith guessed that’s where Michael got his gracious qualities, kind manners and thoughtful nature.

  Margaret was special to Faith because she’d fostered her love for fashion. Every time Faith would go over to play with Michael, his mother would be creating another spectacular garment. One afternoon Faith’s curiosity got the best of her and she went into the room and started asking Margaret questions about what and how she was putting the garment together.

  Once Margaret detected that Faith had an interest in learning to sew, she asked Myra if it would be okay for Faith to attend the class Margaret taught for the youth at her church. Myra thought it was a great idea and allowed Faith to go with Margaret every Tuesday evening if she didn’t have homework.

  Soon, Faith had learned to make garments of her own design—the first dress she ever made didn’t even have a straight collar. Every time she looked at that first attempt, Faith would laugh at herself, even though she was proud of her creation.

  Pushing away from the window, Faith decided she needed to grab a shower before paying Margaret a visit.

  Mrs. Montgomery lived in a charming, brown-brick Tudor-style house with a beautifully landscaped yard. Faith jogged the short distance from her parents’ house to the other side of the street and pressed the doorbell.

  From the outside, the home had been well taken care of and she was sure that Michael had a lot to do with that, since he and his mother were so close. Faith meant to inquire about his mother at dinner the other night, but they were talking about so many different things, trying to catch up, it slipped her mind.

  Tears of admiration and appreciation sprang into Faith’s eyes at the sight of Margaret when she answered the door.

  “Faith. Hey, baby,” Margaret greeted her enthusiastically as she opened the door.

  With the screen door widened, Margaret said, “Come on in, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”

  Immediately, Margaret pulled Faith to her bosom and they held each other tightly for several minutes before letting go.

  In her early sixties, Margaret Montgomery was of average height and build, with a head full of salt-and pepper-colored hair styled neatly. A seamstress by trade, she always wore fashionable clothing that either she’d made herself or bought. The woman could wear a potato sack and look good in it. Faith could tell nothing had changed because, today, she wore a pair of tweed slacks and an electric-blue, button-down shirt with small gold-hoop earrings fastened in each ear.

  “Were you going somewhere?” Faith asked, stepping farther inside the home while admiring Margaret’s outfit.

  “No, I actually just came back from a meeting with some of my mission sisters.”

  Faith remembered how much Margaret loved working in her church. She had mentored a lot of young ladies, teaching them how to sew, set a table and be a lady.

  They walked into the living room. “Come on, sweetie, and have a seat.” Margaret sat down in one of the twin golden rolled-arm chairs and Faith sat in the other.

  “So what kind of project are you ladies working on now?”—Faith wanted to know since they were always doing something charitable, making things by hand and giving them to the needy.

  “Every year at Thanksgiving, we crochet blankets and caps for the cancer center. You know, for folks to throw over their laps and wear when they take their chemotherapy treatments.”

  “That is wonderful. How many blankets do you all make each year?”

  “We try to do at least twenty-five. There are eleven people in my group and this year we are partnering with another church group of five people. The caps are the easiest and fun to make, so you can knock three or four of them out in a week. Some of us will make the blankets and some the caps, since it worked last year. I’m expecting the same results this year.”

  Faith couldn’t help but smile because she knew that crocheting wasn’t the easiest technique to learn, especially with all the patterns and loops. But, knowing Margaret, they would get them all done.

  “I hope to be able to give back like that one day soon.”

  “Michael told me you were home for good. Are you okay?” Margaret asked, changing the subject.

  Faith figured Margaret would want to know what happened, out of genuine concern for her, but she didn’t want to talk about her past.

  Faith nodded. “I’m fine, just time to try something new,” she said, scoping the neatly decorated living room for nothing in particular. Their chairs faced a brown, floral sofa behind a lush, dark-wood coffee table all situated not too far from a white-framed fireplace. Bringing all those elements together against the golden-colored walls made a very comfortable formal living area. />
  Margaret stood up. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to stop by and catch up,” Faith said quickly, grateful that Margaret didn’t press the issue.

  “Well, I’m still sewing,” Margaret said, waving her hand, beckoning Faith to follow her into another room.

  They walked down a short hallway, stopping at the first door on the right, which Faith remembered all too well as the sewing room. It had been beautifully redecorated, looking nothing like the room she’d frequented in her early years. There was a white-framed piece of art with the image of a needle and thread that said Sewing Mends the Soul. It was really cute and reading it brought a smile to Faith’s lips because she herself found much-needed comfort at her sewing machine.

  Impressed and amazed at Margaret’s wonderful transformation of the room, Faith slowly inspected the elements that made up the beautiful space, coming up with some ideas for her own sewing room.

  The natural light hit the soft-pink wall color, making the room feel very feminine, but also fun and playful with the white- and black-dotted, floor-to-ceiling curtains.

  Faith spotted the old Singer sewing machine and a wave of nostalgia hit her as she walked over to it. Fingering the black 1950s 99K-31 vintage model, she felt the cool ceramic surface and smiled.

  “Wow, Margaret, you still have this after all these years?” Faith asked before she sat down on the chair in front of the machine.

  “Oh yes, and would you believe it still performs beautifully? My mother gave that machine to me when she taught me and my sister Louise to sew. I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of it because it reminds me so much of them both.”

  “I remember you taught me how to make the perfect stitch on this very machine,” Faith commented as she continued to reminisce.

  “Yes, there have been many since you who have learned on that machine,” Margaret said walking over to the other machine.

  “There is that serger by Singer that I bought back in the 1990s and it’s still going strong.” Margaret pointed.

  Faith got up from her chair and walked over to the unit. “Yes, of course, I remember because I learned to do a rolled hem and straight seam on a hemline.”

  Suddenly, Faith felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude for all the wisdom Margaret had imparted in her life. She had always tried to be grateful for the people who contributed to her being the woman she was today, but seeing Margaret and talking with her in person made the sentiment mean something altogether different.

  She turned to Margaret. “Margaret, you are so amazing, still faithful to your craft.”

  “You have to use what the Lord gives you, baby,” Margaret said, pulling Faith to her briefly before releasing her. “You have that same gift down on the inside of you.”

  Now, tears glazed over Faith’s eyes as she thought about how much she loved designing and sewing, but felt bad because she’d given it up for the sake of her husband. The ungrateful, selfish, two-timing— Faith hadn’t realized that she had gone off into her own world until she heard Margaret calling her name again.

  “I’m sorry, Margaret, did you say something?”

  “I was just saying that you use your gift and not let it go to waste,” Margaret repeated.

  A beautiful pink, haute-couture-looking garment draped on the mannequin in the corner caught Faith’s eye. The dress was made of a stretched tulle fabric with a round neckline and the beadwork was exquisite. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she would have sworn Margaret bought it from a store.

  “Margaret, this is gorgeous.” Faith turned the left cuff of the dress sleeve up and inspected the workmanship of the beadwork, which was very well made.

  “Thank you, my dear.” Margaret beamed with pride.

  Faith gently moved her hand over the delicate beading and recalled how proud she’d felt after completing her first garment, which didn’t look anything close to the dress in front of her. There was no doubt that Margaret Montgomery could sew her behind off and her work could be sold in any custom boutique, giving Faith an idea.

  “I’m opening my own boutique,” Faith said, fingering the beautiful beaded collar that matched the sleeves.

  “See, I didn’t have to tell you to use your gift; you’re already doing it. I’m so proud of you.”

  Faith didn’t want to tell Margaret that she hadn’t used her gift in years because she was always required to be the arm candy for her husband. There was little or no time to sew, so her equipment just sat in the huge room with an empty mannequin and the drawings she had when she got married.

  “I owe that to you for spending so much time teaching me how to cut out patterns, put the garment together and make those stitches.” Faith blinked back the tears. “Thank you so much,” Faith said, hugging Margaret once more.

  “I wanted to pass along what I’ve learned to others because that is what we’re supposed to do. I tried it with my Becky, but she’s not in to fashion. She’d much rather work on the computer than a sewing machine.”

  Faith nodded, understanding that Rebecca, Michael’s baby sister, was always fascinated with numbers. The last thing Faith heard was that Rebecca had moved back to Alabama as a certified public accountant.

  Faith picked up a scarf from a small tabletop-display rack. The well-made, one-of-a-kind-type items were just what she wanted in her shop.

  “Margaret, I would like to have a special section in my shop for your one-of-a-kind pieces.”

  With each piece Faith picked up, she felt more confident that asking Margaret to join her in a partnership was the right thing to do since a partnership like this could only benefit them both in the end.

  Margaret’s eyes bulged. “You want to what?” Astonished, she sat down in the nearest chair.

  Faith rushed over to her, rubbing Margaret’s shoulders, trying to soothe the anxiety because she hadn’t meant for the offer to upset Margaret. “In my specialty boutique, I would like to have some handmade items that you can’t get anywhere else. In all the years that I worked for that fancy boutique in New York, I always loved finding those unique pieces. The clothing and accessories that you could only find in a specialty shop. I think we can do the same with your things.”

  The blank look on Margaret’s face concerned Faith. It dawned on her that she had dropped a huge task on Margaret, but she felt if they could work together, it could a big success.

  “I’m creating a line of dresses for women who are looking for simple cocktail attire. They will come in four styles and ten different colors.” She walked over to the mannequin and pointed. “I would love to have something like this to offer for an evening out or a special dinner.”

  “Really?” Margaret said, still sitting with her hands in her lap.

  “Yes, because it’s classy, but not overly done. You could wear it if you were going to an after-five affair and it’s not inappropriate to wear to a church banquet. I think lots of women would get good use out of it.”

  Faith had a keen eye for fashion and had been a whiz at knowing what would be the next big thing. She had a gut feeling that this collaboration would do very well, so she wanted to move forward, but only if Margaret agreed.

  Finally, Margaret got up and said, “Well…I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Margaret, I didn’t overwhelm you, did I?”

  “I’m afraid so, dear. I don’t know about committing to a whole line to be put in the shop. You know I don’t sew as quickly anymore,” Margaret said.

  She should have been more considerate of Margaret’s reaction, but the prospect of being able to offer an affordable, well-made formal gown had created so much excitement she got carried away.

  “Maybe the line doesn’t have to be six pieces; we could do three. How about we start with some accessories, like these scarves and belts, but I want you to remember that the dress would be custom-made.”r />
  “Oh, okay, the dress would be custom, but what kind of turnaround time are you going to promise the customer?”—Margaret wanted to know.

  “How long did it take to complete this one?”

  Margaret walked over to the mannequin, pointing in different places. “This isn’t completed yet. I wanted to put it on the mannequin so I could see how it looked on curves before I have Mrs. Barnes come in to try it on.”

  “How long did it take you to get this far?”

  Margaret placed her hand under her chin. “Maybe a little over a month, but I didn’t work on the gown every day.”

  “Why don’t we see what happens,” Faith suggested.

  Margaret strolled to the door. “Why don’t you stay for lunch?” She checked her watch. “I made plenty and would love to have you.”

  Faith smiled genuinely before answering, “Sure, I’d love to.” She knew she had a lot of work to do, but sharing a meal with her mentor was priceless. The time would be well spent.

  Chapter Six

  Michael turned into his mother’s driveway, which went all the way to the back of the house, but he stopped right at the beginning of the cobblestone walkway that led to the front door. He got out of his SUV, removed his sunglasses and went inside.

  Sounds of laughter floating from the kitchen piqued his curiosity, causing him to hurry through the house. To his surprise, he found Faith sitting at the table. His luck with her kept getting better. He enjoyed being in the same space because he could always feel her connection to him.

  After he didn’t hear from her, around eleven o’clock last night he decided to be proactive and send her a text message so that she’d know he was thinking of her. Again, his instincts were correct and she responded right away.

  “Now, this is a real treat—both my favorite girls in one room,” Michael said, walking over to each of them, greeting them with a kiss on the cheek.

  Both women smiled.

  “Would you like to stay and have lunch with us?” Margaret asked.