“Okay, talk me through this again,” Maggie says, and I explain how I want the bag to be color-blocked in black, green, and gunmetal, with the Hello Kitty lining like a secret for the owner of the bag only. Maggie nods, very seriously, and leads me down the hallway to what must be her design studio. This is the room that looks like it’s owned by the Maggie I’m used to, because stuff is everywhere. Dress forms, sewing machines, a huge iMac, piles of fabrics, and sketchpads lying on every surface. She flips one open, draws something, and holds it up.
“Like this?” she asks, and it’s amazing how it’s exactly what I saw in my head. She unrolls gridded paper from a huge roll and shows me how she begins designing her own patterns. Before long we have pieces for each color and the lining, as well.
“Should we order a pizza before we continue?” Maggie asks, and I agree that it’s a great idea.
“You’re quiet tonight,” she says while completing the order online. “You’re never my quiet intern. Is everything okay?”
“I’m just trying to learn,” I say. “And be professional.”
Maggie laughs. “Abby, please never be quiet to be professional. At least not where I’m concerned. I know that Jordi has the silently cool thing down, but it’s hardly how I’m evaluating the two of you. God, I really wish I’d never mentioned that on your very first day, but I think you’ve noticed I’m about as loquacious as you are. The last thing I want is for you to feel like it’s a constant competition.”
“Isn’t it, though?” I ask.
“No. Definitely not. This summer is for you two to learn, and for me to get the benefit of having two really talented girls helping out my store. That’s it.”
“Then I’ll try to …” I laugh. “Talk more?”
“You talk the right amount, Abby,” she says with a serious look in her eyes. “Don’t try to be something you aren’t.”
I nod. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course,” she says. “But let’s start pinning the pattern to the fabric while we talk.”
I follow her lead and begin attaching the pattern to the four different fabrics with tiny stickpins. “I seriously love Lemonberry, and I’m not saying that to suck up. I love, like, every dress you’ve designed, and I love most of the other brands you carry, as well. But your look is so …”
Maggie looks down at her ultra-faded Ramones T-shirt. “Glamorous?”
I laugh. “Exactly.”
“I love designing dresses for girls like you,” she says. “And, occasionally, when I’m feeling fancy, that includes myself. But most days I’m happier just like this.”
“Um … I really do like everything I’m doing at the shop,” I say, because the moment feels so safe. “But I haven’t been able to do many social media things yet. I know you’re busy, but—”
“You’re absolutely right,” Maggie says. “Also, you don’t have to pretend you like dusting, Abby. No one likes dusting.”
“But it’s important! The shop has to look a certain way, and that involves dusting.” I know I sound like I’m sucking up—which maybe I am—so I laugh myself off.
“I’ll find time for you, okay?” she asks, and maybe I’m just caught in the beams of her smile again, but I nod and smile back.
We get the entire pattern cut out before the pizza arrives, and after we eat, we wash our hands free of grease and get back to work. It hits me as the pieces of material begin to take the shape of an actual bag that, ideally, Jordi will be carrying it, and Maggie will see.
But I’ve put in too much work to turn back. And I want to give Jordi something I’ve created myself too badly to keep this hidden from her.
“This will be a nice gift,” Maggie says. “Or at least I assume it’s a gift. It’s not quite your vibe.”
“It’s a gift,” I say. “Yeah.”
“Someone special,” Maggie says, doesn’t ask. I guess that much must be obvious.
“Yes,” I say, and I hope I can leave it at that. For now. And lots of people can be special. Jordi’s my girlfriend, yes, but she’s not the only special person in my life. When Maggie sees her with it, it doesn’t have to be a thing.
“Thank you so much for helping me with this,” I say. “It’s way more complicated than I could manage.”
“You’re picking it up quickly,” she says. “I can tell.”
“Still. Without you, it’d just look like a weird black and green lump, probably.” I stroke the nearly completed bag with my hand. “I can’t believe I thought this up and now it’s real.”
Maggie smiles. “I feel like that every time I see one of my finished dresses.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever be capable of designing anything more elaborate than a bag, but it’s still nice to have something in common with someone as talented as Maggie. When I sit down at home to write my latest blog post (rompers, even though I am wary of them), I feel less like someone doing the fashion thing from the sidelines. Yes, I just made a bag, and only due to someone else’s abilities and equipment at that. But suddenly it’s as though I’m finding my way to something, and I’m not just in its approximate area.
CHAPTER 19
Even though I’m anxious to give Jordi the gift immediately, I’m sort of uncertain about what Maggie will think, and so I put it out of my head for the rest of the workweek. Obviously, I’ll be seeing Jordi over the weekend, though our plans semi-concern me. It isn’t that she hasn’t hung out poolside at Trevor’s with me, and it isn’t that I haven’t tagged along to look at art and listen to music at Pehrspace and other spaces like it.
But tonight, somehow, the combined going out crew includes her friends Henry and Evelyn, Maliah and Trevor, Zoe and Brandon—though
