Every Girl Gets Confused by Janice Thompson Page A

swing sets, etc., so our shop had a steady stream of customers. And in the fall people bought rakes and wheelbarrows. The crowd slowed down in winter, which was why we tried to think outside the box and give our customers a Christmas experience. We drew them in with creativity. Everyone wanted to see what sort of window display we’d come up with next.”
    â€œWhich reminds me, you need to get with Dahlia to discuss our window display. Nadia loved your idea about doing something old-fashioned.”
    â€œLike the old windows Macy’s used to do.”
    â€œYes, love it. So you and Dahlia will have to decide which gowns to use. White, obviously. And you’ll have to create some sort of backdrop. Winter wonderland, maybe?”
    â€œSure. No problem. But before I can think about all of that, I do need some food. Did I hear you tell Twiggy that you ordered some sort of sandwich platter?”
    â€œYes. Had it delivered to the studio. But . . . Do. Not. Go. Back. There.”
    â€œOh, the food’s just for the sewing crew?”
    â€œIt’s not that. Tempers are just . . . well . . . flaring back in the studio today. Do yourself a favor and order a pizza.”
    â€œMadge, really?”
    Her eyes widened and she nodded. “I made the mistake of carrying the platter back there. I thought I’d seen Dahlia in every state of mind, but I’ve never seen her like this.”
    â€œMight have to go back there now, just to see for myself.” I gave a nervous laugh.
    â€œEat at your own risk. You were warned.”
    I thought about what Madge had said about the seasons as I made my way back to the studio. We really did go throughseasons of plenty and seasons of want. I’d done the same in my personal life. Not so very long ago I was in a season of want, wondering if I’d ever find happiness. Today I was in a season of plenty, wrapped in the arms of a great guy and overloaded with so much work I barely had time to sleep.
    Now, to talk to Dahlia about that window display. Entering the studio midday might prove to be dangerous, what with everyone working against the clock, but I had no choice. My lunch was in the refrigerator back there.
    As I entered the room, Dahlia looked up at me and grunted. Quite the greeting.
    I found the usually gorgeous blonde in a messy state, her hair wound up in a knot and with very little makeup on. Quite a contrast to the practically-perfect-in-every-way version we usually got. In place of her usual beautiful clothes and high heels, she wore a blouse that looked slept in, sweatpants, and tennis shoes. Worse still, she snapped at everyone as she worked, her words laced with angst.
    I tried to remedy this with kind words. “You guys should eat something. All work and no play . . . well, you know.”
    â€œLike we have time to eat.” She rolled her eyes and spread out a bolt of crepe satin to be cut. “I have a bride coming at three for a fitting and I’ve barely started her dress. And don’t even get me started on the gown I just finished. The bride came in for her final fitting and wants the sweetheart neckline changed to fit her new physique.”
    â€œNew physique?” I asked.
    Dahlia gestured to her chest. “Breast reduction. Why oh why don’t these brides tell me before I start my alterations that they’re about to have surgery?”
    I couldn’t answer that question. Didn’t even want to try. Instead, I gestured to the platter of cold cuts and cheese slicesthat Madge had delivered moments earlier. “Please eat. I’ll feel so much better if you do.” And I’d feel better eating too if someone would join me. I reached for a slice of ham and popped it into my mouth. Yum.
    No one seemed to notice. Dahlia and her team kept up an angst-filled conversation as they continued their work. I found myself mesmerized by all of them, but particularly Eduardo, an elderly fellow