Chapter 9

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With Label getting a job, Sable finally felt more at ease for once. She sat on the couch one day staring out the frosty window, watching as a light snow drifted down. She held a mug of coffee close to her and watched as the steam rose.

For once, Sable felt content. That was until Mabel started crying about a broken toy, and Sable was reminded again of their circumstance--three orphans living in a small house struggling to make any kind of income.

Sable knelt down and comforted Mabel, who clutched onto a teddy bear with a ripped seam. 

"His arm is broken!" she cried.

"It's fine," Sable assured her younger sister, but the toddler continued to scream.

Sable let out a sigh as Mabel's scream echoed the house.

"Fix it!" she begged.

Sable grabbed onto the teddy bear and glanced at the tear. It was minimal, and Sable was sure it wouldn't need that much fixing. She could have it sewed back up in an hour.

"I'm going to fix it, okay?" Sable asked. "I'm taking him to the doctor, but he'll be better."

Mabel nodded, her tears finally beginning to subside.

"You can come with me to the doctor, okay?" Sable told her younger sister. She grabbed onto Mabel's hand and led her downstairs to the shop. Sable flicked the lights on, glancing at the dusty furniture and supplies.

Her eyes lingered toward the sewing machine. She had thought about it often, ever since she had made Mabel those awful mittens. That experience had made her want to work on her skills even more. The machine was familiar to her once again, and some days, as she was busy caring for Mabel and the house, she thought it might be nice to make something.

Mabel wandered around the shop, glancing at old clothes and supplies and murmuring to herself while Sable fetched sewing supplies. She slowly began stitching the rip back together, working with careful precision.

Her mind wandered to when she practiced sewing with her parents. She tried her best to implement the lessons they had taught her, though the memories were a bit fuzzy. 

Mabel still wandered around and then fixed her eyes on the stuffed animal.

"Is he better?" she asked.

"Almost," Sable told her. The rip began to close, and she broke off the thread. His arm was as good as new. In fact, Sable was proud of her work. It had turned out much better than those awful gloves.

She handed the bear to Mabel who let out a glee of delight.

"Yay, he's better!" she exclaimed, beginning to climb back up the stairs. Sable grinned, a warmth spreading throughout her.

There was something heartwarming about seeing how her work affected others. Even though Mabel never wore her mittens that much, seeing her place them on her ears had made Sable laugh, and that was worth something.

An idea began to form in Sable's mind, and she let out a sigh before climbing back up the stairs to the home.

When Label returned home from work, Sable was sitting on the couch, watching Mabel play.

"How was work?" she asked her older sister.

Label groaned. "Boring and awful," she complained.

"We're making more money."

"I know that."

"Label, listen," Sable said as her sister collapsed on the couch.

"What?"

"I-I'm thinking of opening the shop back up," Sable told her.

Label's eyes widened. "What?! Why?!"

"I-I like sewing. I had to fix Mabel's bear today, and it just reminded me--"

"Sable, how would you even do that? You fixed a seam, but you haven't made a whole outfit. And I guess those mittens were functional, but it was nothing like Mom and Dad had made," Label spoke.

The words stung, but Sable knew she was only being honest.

"I-I want to try. I can get better. I just need practice. We still have old items sitting around. We can sell those first and then I'll keep working, we can keep working, and--"

"We? I don't want a part in the shop," Label told her. "Have you forgotten what I want?"

"Label, you know we can't afford to move to the city."

"I don't want to be a seamstress in this town," Label said. "I have bigger dreams than that. I don't want that to be my job--to care for the shop. I want adventure, experience. I don't want that to be sitting in a crammed corner late at night sewing items for a shop while we beg for food."

"But we can make more money," Sable explained.

"Yes, but we'll need to pay for more supplies, more fabric. The income will be little."

"But it'll grow."

"Sable, no. I don't want to work in the shop. You, nor I, let's admit it, have the skills to make some of the clothing Mom and Dad did. You can work on it, sure, but no. We're not opening the shop back up. Not right now."

Sable groaned. Normally, she was the boss of this house, but Label had clearly established her dominance this time. Sable supposed she couldn't complain too much. After all, Label was the one with the job and was bringing in extra bells.

"How will you become a fashion designer if you don't practice sewing?" Sable asked quietly.

"What?"

"I've seen your notebook, Label. All those sketches are half-finished or crossed-out. You're struggling too, but you don't even want to practice."

Label narrowed her eyes. "Don't you ever touch my sketchbook again or I swear..." She broke off, then let out a large sigh. "This discussion is pointless now. We're not opening the shop back up."

"But when? When will we?"

"When we can actually live decently!" Label shouted.

Mabel glanced up, distracted by the two. She covered her ears, the shouting bugging her.

"Sorry," Label muttered toward Mabel. She then grabbed her sketchbook and stalked to her room, shutting the door.

Sable let out a sigh. She desperately wanted to open the shop back up with all her might, but Label clearly had a different vision. 

Either way, Sable would practice. That's what she promised herself. She'd keep sewing, keep working. She would prove to Label that she could open the shop, one way or another. She just didn't know how.

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