“How many are missing?”
“Ten,” Chloe said.
“Ten?” Ella sank into the chair. Ten pillowcases. The day was already half over. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. She couldn’t feasibly finish her dress if she had ten more pillowcases to make before tomorrow night.
“Do we have any material left?” Chloe asked.
Ella sniffed. “No. We’ll have to pick some up. With all the last-minute shoppers out there, that could take hours.” Ella remembered just how long it had taken to get through the cutting line at the store for the pieces lying on her table. Traffic along the streets, crowds in the stores, malfunctioning cash registers, and cranky impatient shoppers didn’t help. Ironic, how the happiest time of the year sometimes brought out the worst in people. Only when shopping, Ella supposed.
She gave her unfinished gown a fleeting glance. The ball would have to wait. Those kids couldn’t wake up with only a portion of them receiving pillowcases and not others. They all deserved a happy surprise on Christmas morning.
“I’ll go buy fabric,” Chloe said. “My flight doesn’t leave for a few more hours.”
Ella held out a hand. “No, you can’t miss that. It’s okay. I’ll go.”
Chloe glanced at the material. “But your dress…”
“Will still be here when I get back,” Ella said with a smile.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “I won’t even be here to help you.”
Ella pushed aside the budding heartache and fastened on a smile. There was always a bright side. At least they still had time to finish the pillowcases, right? “Don’t be. This isn’t your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault. It just happened. What matters is that we get those pillowcases done in time.”
Chloe pursed her lips. “Maybe you can call Brandy. She might be able to come.”
“Not happening,” Ella said. “You know how excited she was to go to that Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree activity her family’s been planning. It’ll be fine. I have no plans, not really.”
She tried her hardest to believe it as she said it. The ball didn’t matter. It didn’t.
“It just doesn’t seem fair,” Chloe said. “You deserve a good Christmas with your family just like everyone else.”
Ella blinked, willing the tears away. Smiling helped with that. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Go get yourself to the airport.”
An argument lingered in Chloe’s expression, but she sighed, releasing it. “Fine. Here. Give me a hug.”
“Thanks for all your help with the other ones,” Ella said, hoping to make sure Chloe left on the best note possible. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Merry Christmas, Ella,” Chloe said, retrieving her suitcase and leaving the apartment.
Once again alone, defeat began to rust inside her, tarnishing Ella’s every attempt at finding something good in this. She had to face facts. She wouldn’t have time to make her dress, which meant no ball. She might as well go to work on Christmas Eve. What else was there to do?
Ella left the pieces she’d cut on the table, snatched her purse, coat, and hat, and scurried out into the cold.
She supposed she could be brave. Take Grammy’s advice. Call Stina, tell her she was going to enjoy Christmas in whatever way she could and take the risk of being fired or quitting outright. But she dialed a different number instead.
“Grandma, hey.”
“How’s that dress of yours coming?”
“It’s not,” Ella said, determined to keep her chin up. “Something came up and I’ve got to take a raincheck. That means I’ll miss seeing you on Christmas morning, too. I’m sorry, Grammy.”
Ella could bear her grandma’s reprimands over Stina’s harsh rebuttals. She knew what a coward that made her, but she could only handle so many setbacks at once. Maybe she was just destined to be alone.
Grandma waited several seconds before answering. Ella guessed she was arguing with herself about whether or not to give Ella a hard time for this decision.
Her soft side gave out. “I’m sorry too, Ella girl. What about your dance?”
Ella sniffed again. Crinkled her nose. “Not happening. I don’t have time to make my dress.”
“Buy one,” Grammy insisted.
“It’ll be okay. It’s just a ball.”
“And you’re a girl who’s never been to anything like that before. I’m telling you, you should go.”
“I already spent my life savings on fabric,” she said with a downtrodden laugh. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll finish the dress after Christmas is over and sell it. I’ll add it to my portfolio, for school. Maybe then I’ll have the guts to talk to Stina.”
That would be the time to do it, she told herself. Once things started going right.
“You’d have your big start if you’d just take a chance at it,” Grammy nagged in her pushy, loving way. Apparently, she couldn’t hold herself back after all. “You’re too busy doing everything for everybody else. Let someone else do something for you for once.”
Ella couldn’t hear anymore. She was already battling sorrow as it was. Like it or not, this was the way things were, and she had to do what she could. Buying a dress, standing up to Stina, going to a handsome billionaire’s ball, was no longer part of that, and she had to accept it.
“Why don’t you let me help you?” Grammy offered. “I can sew the dress.”
Though Grammy couldn’t see it, Ella shook her head anyway. She knew her grandma had some serious skills in her time, but she couldn’t ask this of her.
“No, Grammy. It’ll be okay. Say hi to Grandpa for me.”
“Ella.” Grammy’s tone turned corrective. “You know Grandpa would tell you the same thing.”
Something told her Grammy wasn’t talking about the dress this time. Of course, her grandfather would envelop her in his arms and speak comfort to her. He would encourage Ella to stand up for herself and stop pushing everyone away too. For some reason, she couldn’t hear it from him as well, and if she waited long enough. Grammy would pass the phone over to him so he could do just that.
“I know,” Ella said through her tightened throat. “I’ve got to go, Grammy, okay?
