Perseverance

Chapter Twenty Three ~ April

"They're just fantastic," the mother says, smiling as though her life depends on it as she looks down at the ruffled fabric on top of her daughter's head. "Thank you for getting them done. And on such short notice."

"My pleasure." I smile, looking beside me at Savannah as she places the extra box down beside us. "Twenty seven pink bows, eight blues, and five greens," I confirm and the woman nods.

"Just what Tallulah wanted," she coos to her child. I grimace at the ridiculousness, Sav noticing my expression and quickly stepping in front of me.

"I hope you enjoy Becky's designs," she says quickly to the overbearing mother. Her little girl peers up at me around Savannah's legs, and I can't help but send a cheeky smile at her embarrassed expression. Kid, with a mom like that, I'd be pretty humiliated too.

"I'm sure she will," the mom replies. "Lula?"

"Thank you," the little girl says softly and I grin, reaching out and adjusting the bow in her hair so that it isn't the upside down mess her mother made it into.

"You're very welcome," I reply before stepping back. Sav and I say our goodbyes to my enthusiastic customer, my best friend having offered to drop them off with me before she headed to work this morning.

Stepping back out onto the relatively quiet street, Savannah heads for the cab we'd arrived in, using it to get her to work on time so that my old boss Eric won't yell at her. I still don't know why she hasn't quit, the absolute idiot undeserving of my best friend's skills and talent.

With a final wave from her, the driver pulls away and rounds the corner out of sight as I begin to make my way down the street.

I'm happy to walk, utilizing the time to contemplate my entire fucking life; where I'm at, what I'm doing, how I feel. In all honesty, I'm a complete mess, like a bulldozer has swept through my brain, leaving no-one but myself to attempt to repair it.

I enjoy seeing how happy the silly hair bows make children, however I know just as well as anyone that those silly kids throw the damn things aside within a week, ready for something new. I did the exact same. Every time a new Barbie came out, I wanted it - who even cares about the previous one?

As such, I have no passion for my work. I want to make clothes for people who will appreciate it. The women who will request something in particular, gaze upon it for hours, and keep it for years, bringing it out every so often to wear. I want Becky Gordon to be a sophisticated brand, not covered in snot from a children's party.

I have no control over that aspect of my life, all attempts to throw myself forward backfiring or just fizzling out into nothing.

But then again, what is it that I do have control over right now? Not my job, not my love life, not my feelings. It's like I'm spiralling exponentially, instead of one thing happening at a time. The sheer volume of uncertainty is enough to make anyone's chest tighten.

The sudden loud ringing of my phone makes me jump, and I quickly pull it out from the bottom of my bag, pressing the answer button and raising it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Becky Gordon?" the unfamiliar female voice replies.

"Speaking," I confirm, stopping dead in the middle of the street.

"My name's Alice Winters." Brett's sister? "Savannah told me that you make dresses. I have a rather wealthy, over the top birthday party coming up next month and I need a one of a kind dress to wear. Would you be interested?"

My mouth drops open from shock, and I'm fairly certain I've stopped breathing.

"Becky?"

"Uhh yes! Very interested," I babble quickly in response. "What sort of dress are you thinking?"