Page 87 of Darn Knit All

Mai tilted her head to one side, tapping a finger against her lower lip. “How does that fit with the dress?”

“I’ll make the wave look like stone. We’ll rig the cords of the skirt to the gloves so when the model opens her arms, the cord will pull to reveal the full skirt.”

We’d designed this piece to look like a skin-tight dress until the wearer tugged at the clever hidden ties and released the full skirt into the train—turning the dress from stone to water.

“I’m not sure I completely understand, but I’m happy to give it a try.”

“Trust me,” I told her confidently. “It’ll work.”

It didn’t work.

The wax warped the wire frame, and dripped off the canvas before it had a chance to set. I cursed under my breath, trying to salvage the mess—and contain it to my small corner of the workbench. Mai glanced over, her brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m sorry,” I said sheepishly. “It sounded good in theory.”

Mai set down the bodice piece she was working on and came over to assess the situation. She picked up the failed attempt, turning it over in her hands.

“The issue is the wire.” She tapped on the razor-thin metal. “The glove needs a sturdier structure, something that can withstand the heat and weight of the wax without warping.”

I rummaged through our supplies. “Let’s see, wire, wire, oh, look! More wire. Thread. A condom.” I tossed the packet over my shoulder ignoring the muffled laughter of the crew. “Ah-ha!”

I held up a roll of masking tape triumphantly. “This could work.”

Mai returned to the dress as I began to wrap the tape around my left hand to create a mold. Layer upon layer of tape wrapped around each finger before I was finally satisfied. Carefully removing the tape—only losing a few hairs in the process—I selected a set of shimmering gold and black candles to go with her dress, adding some super-strength glue to the dripping wax.

Please God, let this work. I don’t want to disappoint Mai.

Knowing time was of the essence, I lit every candle, rigging them to drip onto the makeshift glove while I began to make a mold of my left hand.

“This just might work,” I murmured as I swapped the first mold out and positioned the remaining candles to cover the second.

Leaving our experiment, I returned to Mai’s side, assisting her to tackle the challenge of completing the actual gown.

Precious minutes slipped away as we worked feverishly to add the final flourishes—delicate lace at the hem, glittering crystals cascading down the back, and a last-minute cape made of beautifully soft feathers.

Our model arrived, and Mai helped her into the dress as I checked our gloves. Holding my breath, I gently peeled the tape away from the wax, praying to whatever God that cared that it would hold.

“Moment of truth,” I muttered, breathing a sigh of relief when they held their shape, the wax smooth and unblemished.

“You did it,” Mai breathed. “It’s stunning.”

“Let’s see if they’ll go on the model.”

Slipping each wax glove onto the model’s hands took far longer than I had anticipated.

“Hurry,” Mai whispered, dancing around me as the clock counted down to zero. “Please!”

Gritting my teeth, I continued to slowly slide them on the model, knowing if I moved too quickly the integrity of the wax might be compromised and our entire design would be wasted.

Sweat trickled down my back, my chest tightening. I had to get this right or Mai’s chances were toast.

“Ten seconds!” Michelle called from the stage.

“Theo!” Mai wailed behind me. “Hurry!”

I slid the final glove on, breathing a sigh of relief when the model held up her hands, giving me a nod.

“Tools down!”

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