Where Dreams Unfold Page 20

  He wished he could ask Perrin, she was so good at these things. But she hadn’t answered any of his surreptitious calls made out of earshot of the kids. He didn’t know if she ever would again. Russell’s statement, about how Perrin always got her way, scared the shit out of him. It wasn’t that she was manipulative, but she was tenacious as hell when adhering to what she believed to be right; a trait he appreciated under any other circumstance.

  He still hadn’t worked up the nerve to call Maria, and now it was probably too late.

  He lay his head on the table trying not to think of his son in a drugged sleep with a cast in his bedroom. Or of Tammy, refusing to leave the chair beside Jaspar until she’d fallen asleep against the foot of the bed and Bill practically had to carry her to her own bed.

  The buzz of his phone jerked him from his stupor. He fumbled it from his pocket. Just a text. From a number he didn’t recognize. He almost deleted it, but decided it couldn’t hurt to look.

  I’m okay. So sorry.

  Tell Tammy not to come tomorrow.

  I will call. But not yet.

  -P

  Bill blinked hard, could feel the burning in his eyes. He wiped at them and his hand came away wet. Who knew he’d be the one in the relationship who cried. He thought he was done with that after Adira’s death. All he could think was how hard it must have been for Perrin to send that message after the things she’d said.

  And how desperate he was to cling onto even the tiniest thread of hope.

  Chapter 18

  “You look très misérable, Perrin.” Melanie’s light greeting did nothing to cheer Perrin. She sat alone in her design studio and wondered why she bothered. A place where she always found joy and inspiration now only felt empty. She kept wanting to glance over her shoulder and see Tamara’s intent frown as she concentrated on pinning a seam just right. To hear the girl’s laughter at the simple joy of learning something new.

  And each of those thoughts was accompanied with the void where Jaspar stood. She didn’t know how he looked when upset, happy, sad, mischievous… Perrin had inklings, but they weren’t anchored in her heart the way Tamara’s were. It wasn’t that she loved Tamara better, a grown-up couldn’t afford to do that between children, but Perrin certainly knew her better.

  “Perrin?”

  “Sorry, Melanie. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Non. That is not so. You did not sleep at all and your heart, I can see how your heart is hurting. The little girl, she is not here.”

  Perrin did her best to close the topic. “Only me today. Let me show you the sketches I made for you.” She pulled them out of the portfolio and spread her drawings across the cutting table.

  Melanie watched her for a long moment and then came around the table. She turned to inspect the sketches, but not before pulling up a stool so close that their hips touched. She wrapped an arm around Perrin’s waist and pulled her close as one friend would with another. In that position they went through the design in detail.

  Melanie pointed out a line of the hem that she had seen Donatella Versace put on the Paris runway just last week. To avoid being labeled derivative, between them they restructured the lines.

  Perrin slowly shifted beneath Melanie’s kindness and her shared passion for original fashion. The model’s casual, friendly embrace, her deep insights, and her gentle understanding did almost as much as Maria’s no-nonsense kindness. Cassidy would have worried and fussed. Jo would have been her typical quiet, steadfast, pillar-strong self at a loss as to how to help and never understanding how much being herself did just that. Melanie simply let Perrin be her own, upset self without comment or judgment.

  When they were done, there was a peace between them. The design would be stunning. Not merely analogous to the opera costumes, but uniquely its own statement. Enough so that Perrin knew she’d need to dig Russell out of his cave to make sure he was there to photograph Melanie’s arrival at the opening. Which was another thread of her life she’d have to re-tie.

  And she’d have to get him to talk with Wilson Jarvis about how to turn the Emerald City Opera opening into a red carpet event that the entertainment news would cover. Yet another future payoff for Seattle and the Emerald City Opera. She had almost a dozen designs that Raquel had sold from the store that would be walking the lobby on opening night, though none were like Melanie’s showpiece.

  Melanie tried to coax her to go out, to call her friends and make an afternoon of it. It was tempting, she definitely had some fences to mend there. But there was another one, far more important. And just because it was hard, she wouldn’t shy away from it this time.

  # # #

  Jaspar sat in his dad’s office. Getting the day off from school almost made up for having his arm in a cast. Tomorrow he’d get some good mileage out of it from classmates, even more than having sailed the big boat. ‘Course his dad had called the school and gotten all his homework assignments, so it wasn’t a totally free ride. And he couldn’t do squat downstairs with the crew with his arm in a cast.

  Dad had been cool about it all. Clearly Tam had filled him in, but he hadn’t gone all parent-fake about it either. He’d made a point of settling Jaspar in the office, rather than out in the cubical he normally used for homework. And the stuff he was doing was neat once Jaspar started paying attention to it. More than once Jaspar had forgotten all about Kipling’s story of Kim’s adventures in India to listen to what his dad did to make the opera run.

  When she got off school, Tam had been so afraid to come up to him that he’d given in way sooner than he planned. She sat on the couch and was all girly, offering to get him a soda, seeing if he wanted help with anything.

  When Dad was out of the room he asked her quietly, “Why are you here anyway? Why aren’t you with her?” No need to explain who he was talking about, though he hadn’t meant it to come out so nasty. Tam looked miserable, right on the verge of tears for like the hundredth time since he’d been hurt.

  “Dad said it was better if I didn’t,” she sniffled hard. “I checked Dad’s phone. She sent him a message saying she didn’t want me to come.”

  Man the waterworks really were going. Tam was really, really sad about it. He didn’t want that.

  “What was the rest of the message?”

  She told him.

  Jaspar had to think about it a bit. He had a funny feeling that the most important part of the message wasn’t the part that Tam cared about. Ms. Williams had said she was sorry. By itself, it might mean she was sorry that Jaspar had broken his arm, but that didn’t fit the rest of it. And it didn’t fit what a mess Dad was today, like he hadn’t slept or anything. Twice he’d seemed to forget what he was holding in his hands. When they’d gone out to lunch together, though it was embarrassing that Dad had to cut up his hamburger so that he could eat it, his dad didn’t eat much of his own.

  Ms. Williams had said she was sorry and said that she would call, though not yet.

  Almost every night for the last month he’d heard his dad talking with her. He couldn’t make out the words, except once or twice when he’d snuck up outside the bedroom door, but you didn’t talk that much to a girl unless you really liked her.

  Dad came through the office, said something about Jerimy and the costumes. Did the kids want to go downstairs with him?

  Tam, rather than leaping up as she had about costumes even before Ms. Williams first showed up, checked in with him. Jaspar tipped his head a little so she’d know he was fine with it and it was okay if she went.

  She double checked, which made him even less angry at her. He did the finger flick for her to get gone, like when he was sick and she was hovering too much. She went, but Jaspar told Dad he was fine, wanted to read his book. What he really wanted to do was think.

  He didn’t like that everything had changed. And he didn’t like that it had happened so fast. Tam was done with middle scho
ol next month. When did she get so old? And girl-shaped. Like he didn’t even recognize her, though he could see that boys sure did. Even grown ups would stop to watch her go by. They used to always say, “What a cute kid.” Now it was all, “What a beautiful girl.” Like she’d changed and left him behind. And those dresses.

  Jaspar squirmed around on the couch trying to get more comfortable, but his arm was hurting and it wasn’t easy.

  Tam had looked even more like an adult in her costume and those dresses she kept making with Ms. Williams. She was good at it too, everyone said so. Maybe it was more than just wearing them. Even before Ms. Williams, she was mostly down with Jerimy and Patsy, like she really cared about that stuff. He’d always been able to find her there when he needed something.

  It wasn’t like the electricians, or even better sailing that whole big boat with no one but Mr. Morgan paying any real attention to him. But maybe it was what she liked.

  Jaspar slowly became aware that there was someone standing at the office door.

  Ms. Williams.

  “Dad and Tam are downstairs.”

  She nodded, but didn’t move to go to them, just stood there.

  “What?” Dad would harass Jaspar about such bad manners, but he wasn’t here.

  “Can I come in?”

  Jaspar shrugged a yes and then wished he hadn’t. His arm really hurt.

  She didn’t just breeze in like she seemed to always… Oh no! She was gonna do one of those serious adult-conversation-with-the-kid things. He really didn’t want to deal with one of those right now.

  She sat down on one of the chairs and faced him.

  He knew he was going to be rude, could feel it building up.

  “I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

  It took Jaspar a moment to figure out what she was talking about. He’d expected her to start with his arm or the book open on his lap or something safe. Even Dad usually did that, pretty much everyone except Tam did that.

  “It’s not that I like Tamara better than you, I just know her better. I understand girls better than guys. Before your dad, I hadn’t met all that many guys that I liked enough to be friends with. Russell and Angelo married my best friends, but even them, it took me a long while. I’m really sorry for how I treated you, even if I didn’t mean to.”

  Jaspar had to blink at her, as if she was turning into a different person without even moving.

  “What I brought for you today isn’t some lame bribe to try and make it all better. It’s for the opera. Anything else, well, I just hope you’ll give me a chance to try and figure it out better than I have so far.” Then she opened the long bag she’d brought in. First she pulled out a dark cloth, elaborately sewed in the same colors as his costume.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a sling for you to wear with your costume.” She spread it out on the couch beside him where Tam had been sitting. “It will cover the whole cast and just make it look like your character was wounded in sword practice or something.”

  “But I don’t have sword.”

  She reached into her bag again and pulled out a wooden sword complete with belt and scabbard just like the one Carlo wore as the Prince, only smaller. It had been painted to look so real he had to touch it to make sure it was wood.

  “This way you can still go on stage and your character will still make sense.”

  On stage. He hadn’t even thought about how that might be a problem for a kid with a cast. But she’d thought of it and figured out how to fix it.

  “Thanks,” he tried to think of something more intelligent to say.

  She nodded and stood up to leave.

  “You gonna wait to see Dad and Tam?”

  She shook her head now.

  “You’re making my dad and my sister really sad.”

  That stopped her in the door as if he’d just stabbed her with his new sword. He hadn’t really meant to.

  Ms. Williams took a deep breath before turning to look at him, her hand braced on the doorframe. “I know.”

  Now Jaspar got why she’d said she was sorry. Why she’d said the rest of the text.

  “You know what, Ms. Williams?”

  “What?” She didn’t let go of the door frame.

  “It might be okay if you called Dad tonight.”

  She was silent for the longest time before she nodded to him and whispered, “Thank you, Jaspar. I don’t know if I’m ready, but thanks.” And she was gone.

  He was still thinking about what it all meant when his dad came back.

  “Hey, nice sword. Where did that come from?”

  He shrugged and ran his hand down its smooth length.

  Tam came in and spotted the sling lying where Perrin had left it beside him on the couch.

  “Hey, that’s cool. A sling as a part of your costume. It matches perfectly, and the sword explains your injury.”

  Tam didn’t get it, not yet. It always took her a couple extra moments while she thought about and tested a new idea. She was right more often than he was, just slower to make sure of it. Maybe about Ms. Williams she’d been right and he’d been wrong.

  Dad figured out where the sword and sling had come from fast enough though. He dropped into a chair as if Jaspar had just hacked his legs out from under him.

  Chapter 19

  Perrin skipped the Tuesday dinner to work on Melanie’s dress and the one she’d wear herself to go with it for opening night. Actually, she’d have to make three more. As the costume designer, she’d been given three tickets to opening night, and Carlo had obtained two for Melanie. So between them they’d invited Maria, Jo, and Cassidy. The men had all agreed to pitch in to help Angelo as the restaurant’s opening neared and he descended into near total panic. Maria was going to be done with pastries before the performance and would leave the service to the new pastry chef.

  Five dresses total. With Melanie’s to play off, the designs had come together quickly and easily. The dresses would be very similar in look, though matched to each woman’s figure of course. And each would be primarily in a single color from the opera that best highlighted their complexion: Cassidy’s black, Jo’s sky blue, Maria’s red, and Perrin’s gold. Melanie would be the montage that each of them complemented. They should all arrive together in a limo. That would create a proper sensation.

  Jo and Cassidy hunted her down later that night, coming to the shop and banging on the glass.

  They’d tried to make sure everything was okay and ask how could they help. They tried to force food on her from a care package Maria had put together before sending them over. They tried to get her to stop for a moment.

  Perrin didn’t have time for any of that. In minutes she had them working in the studio; and they cut, pinned, and sewed to her direction. It didn’t take long for them all to settle in and work together. They talked and they laughed—it was so normal. Perrin would never know what about and didn’t care. All she cared about was how much she loved these women and how much they loved her. She made a point of telling them so several times as they worked.

  Then she had one more idea. One she didn’t even need to sketch. It was a good idea, but she wasn’t ready to work on just yet.

  # # #

  Jerimy’s call to meet with Richard, the lighting designer, brought Perrin to the Opera offices. He also tactfully informed her that Bill would be over at the Opera House overseeing the first staging rehearsal walk-through that afternoon, which she greatly appreciated.

  She, Jerimy, and Richard sat at the big cutting table, all of the primary costumes turned face-out on racks in front of them. Jaspar sat quietly off to the side watching. She was starting to understand that about him. Tamara would think something through. Jaspar followed his instincts.

  Jasper was an older soul in a way, despite Tamara’s mothering of him. His mother’s death had made him mor
e like Cassidy. Actually they’d both lost their moms at about the same age. Cassidy had become an adult that day, as had Jaspar. He’d been a bit more buffered by Tamara’s care, but Perrin could see the similarity of the effect.

  Jerimy turned off the lights in this end of the Costume Shop. Richard had set up a pair of lights about ten feet apart and laid out a dozen different colored gels. The colored transparent sheets fit into steel frames that then slid into slots at the front of the lighting instruments.

  “Now we can see what challenges you’ve set me.”

  The white light was the closest to what Perrin was used to working with. Fashion runways were brightly lit so that every detail could be seen. There was some coloring, but not much. And most of her designs were designed for wear in daylight, office light, or at some party. Again, all shades of white.

  Then he put a pale blue in front of one instrument and a soft pink in the front of the other. It was as if the costumes had jumped into three dimensions.

  Jaspar had moved up on Jerimy’s other side, “Could you do that again?”

  Richard slid the two gels out of the way and then dropped them back in.

  “Okay, thanks.” With that single demonstration, Perrin could feel Jaspar neatly filing away whole categories of information. Just as Cassidy had during college when she also took classes at the Culinary Institute of America just up the highway. Each new bit of knowledge neatly filed, creating an order to the chaos that surrounded them.

  Richard turned on a third light in between the other two, shooting forward from a low stand right in front of them.

  “This one is called Bastard Amber, that’s its real name.”

  “But it’s pinkish, why do they call it that?” Perrin left Jaspar to ask the questions, though she would have asked the exact same thing.

  “Hold your good arm in front of the instrument.”

  “It’s warm,” Jaspar commented.

  “Right. These instruments throw a lot of heat. Wait until you’re onstage with half a hundred instruments on, you’ll really heat up. Now watch your skin.” He dropped in the gel.