When my stepsister Nora asked me to stitch six special bridesmaid gowns, I said yes, hoping it might build a closer tie between us. I spent $400 from my baby savings on the supplies. When I handed over the gowns, she called them my “gift” and laughed when I asked for payment.
Fate stepped in at just the right moment. The call from my stepsister came on a Tuesday morning while I was holding my four-month-old son Liam on my hip. “Eliza?
It’s Nora. I really need your help.”
I shifted little Liam to my other arm, wincing as he grabbed a bunch of my hair. “What’s wrong?”
“You know I’m getting married next month, right?
Well, I’m having a complete mess finding bridesmaid gowns. I’ve gone to 12 shops, and nothing fits all six girls. Different shapes, you know?
Then I remembered… you’re really talented with that sewing machine. Your work is high-quality.”
“Nora, I haven’t really…”
“Could you maybe make them? Please?
You’re home anyway, and I’d pay you well, of course! You’d honestly save my whole wedding. I’m running out of ideas here.”
Nora and I had never been very close.
We had different mothers and separate lives. But she was family. Well, sort of.
“I haven’t done professional sewing since Liam was born. How much time do I have?”
“Three weeks? I know it’s really tight, but you’re so skilled.
Remember that gown you made for cousin Mia’s graduation? Everyone was asking who created it.”
I looked down at Liam, who was now chewing on my shirt collar. Our baby savings were getting dangerously low.
My husband Owen had been working long shifts at the factory. But the bills kept piling up. Maybe this could truly help us out.
“What’s your budget for supplies and work? Six special gowns is a big job.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that now. We’ll work out all the money details when they’re done.
I promise I’ll pay you.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
The first bridesmaid, Chloe, arrived that Thursday afternoon. She was tall and curvy with very clear ideas about everything.
“I really hate high necklines,” she said, looking at the sketch I’d drawn. “They make me look stiff. Can we go much lower?”
“Sure.
How’s this?” I changed the design. “Great. Oh, and I need the waist pulled in here, and here.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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