Clover Village

Chapter 8 - Fashion Tourists

JESSE

"But what if people ask me about your stuff?" I say, walking behind Sue.

"Then you tell them about it."

"What if I get it wrong?"

"I don't see what you can get wrong. I sell your work and answer questions about it."

"But you have so much shi..." I say, trying to stop myself but is too late. Sue has a little look that tells me I'm in trouble.

"I work in this store daily. I deserve a free day from time to time. I'm only away for the day with Daisy. It's not like I'm taking a full vacation. And if by now you don't know a thing about my shit, then you should be ashamed," she says in a scolding tone that reminds me of Mom.

"I know the basics, like quilting, embroidery, crochet and so, but I don't know about materials."

"I use bio cotton, yarn and thread. For goodness sake, Jesse. This is not a damn science."

"Will Eric be here?"

"He has a job in the next village. He will also be out the whole day."

I feel defeated. I will have to service the store by myself for a whole day.

"I arranged for food to get delivered to you for lunch and dinner. Don't wait for me. Daisy and I will have dinner in the city."

"Well, have fun," I say in a flat voice.

"Now say like you mean it."

I give her a kiss on her forehead.

"Enjoy yourself."

Sue walks towards Daisy's house and I'm left alone. Eric left very early, so to see.

I'm very fond of my siblings, but Sue and I are very close. Even though Eric and I were born only a year and a half apart. Mom said that I loved Sue since she was in her belly and used to tell everybody that my sister was my doll.

Now, when it comes to what she does, it is one gigantic puzzle. Fabrics and balls of yarn always surround her.

I get behind the counter and get a sketch pad out. It is never too late to begin my designs for the Christmas ornaments. I have done it two years in a row and they just flew out of the shelves.

I serve a few clients here and there and luckily none of them have questions about Sue's work. I then see a round figure with a cane at the door and smile at her sight.

"Mrs. Constance, how are you doing?" I say, walking towards her to assist her.

"Doing very well, my dear. Only the knees are complaining a bit, hence the cane."

"Come and have a seat," I say, motioning to one chair. "What brings you to Garnett House?"

"Your sister called me that my curtains are ready. My guests are away for a day to Sea Glass, so I thought about heading down here and pay some visits. I was just having lunch at Old Simon and he sent you this," she says, handing me a parcel.

"You are God sent then. Let me find your order," I say and head to the storage. I find the curtains neatly pressed and on a hanger.

After handing her the order, I sit on the chair next to her and enjoy my bowl of hot soup. We talk about the businesses and how the upcoming festivals always bring her extra guests.

"I won't have a stall. I won't be able to cope with that and the bed-and-breakfast. Old Simon will offer my bread on his. Oh my, that sounded almost dirty," she says with a chuckle while I almost choke on my soup. "Well, sweets, I better get going. Send my greetings to your siblings."

I say goodbye to Mrs. Constance and head back to my sketches. I think I will stick to nice icicles this year.

A couple of kids of college age enter the store. They look a bit... alternative. Her hair is shaved on one side and the rest is long, straight and blue. The guy is wearing suspenders and has a beard and a man bun.

They head to the display of tablecloths and seem to have a deep discussion. Eventually, they settle on two of them and come to the cash register.

"Did you find everything that you were looking for?" I say as I register the purchase in Sue's inventory.

"So vintage!" says the girl.

"So rad!" says the guy.

"So village!" they say in unison.

I look up and they are grinning at each other.

"Excuse me?" I say.

"Has anybody told you that you could be a model?" The girl says to me.

"Me? A model?" I say.

"Well, he is rough on the edges, but it could work. Let me see," the guy says, coming behind the counter.

He then grabs cuff of my sleeves and rolls them up, then opens an extra button and then pushes the shirt fabric inside my jeans. I'm glued to my place, even though his hands are dangerously close to my manhood. He then rolls the hem of my jeans.

"So vintage!" says the girl, clapping her hands.

"So rad," says the guy, admiring his work.

"So definitely village," the girl says, nodding.

"I'm sorry. We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Scout and this is Moxie. We are fashion students and have an assignment to create a vintage piece. You, my friend, are a piece of art," Scout says, and I feel myself blushing.

"And these gorgeous tablecloths will turn into a dress and a shirt," Moxie says.

"My sister... she... embroidered those..." I say, finally finding my voice.

"She is an artist. Such a very good vintage artist," Moxie says.

"Very rad. We have searched around and who would have thought that this village would have it all?" Scout says.

At that moment, Eric walks into the store. He looks at our customers with curiosity.

"That is my brother Eric," I say, pointing with my head.

"Oh my! They come in two!" Moxie says excitedly.

Scout walks to my brother and checks him out. Then he comes too close for comfort and takes a sniff at his neck.

"Woodsy," Scout says, while Eric's eyes turn as big as saucers.

"I'm... a carpenter..." is all Eric can say.

"And the inspiration for the shirt I will make. Come on Moxie, time to create. An ode to the village."

"So vintage," Moxie says in a solemn voice while grabbing the bags.

"Very rad men," Scout says, nodding. "They thought we were nuts for coming here. The village has it all."

And so they left.

"What just happened?" Eric says.

"I really don't know. I really don't," I say, staring at the door.