Page 11 of Beau Pair
Beau
Idon’t know why I’m so nervous.
It’s not like I’m meeting the queen of England. I’m just meeting Elsie’s mom and having dinner with her and Gordon.
But for some reason, my fingers are tingly as fuck and no amount of shaking or massaging them makes it go away.
By the time I’m ready for dinner, I think I know why.
What if she doesn’t like me?
What if Gordon hired me, but Dolly needed to approve of me first and she has a problem with me?
And what if, as a result, Gordon has to let me go?
I need this job and I need this house. I’m already putting all of my savings into college. I can’t afford to lose either.
Although, to be fair, this particular house is way more than I ever expected or dreamed of when I moved to New Harlow. My room can sleep twenty people comfortably. It even has its own bathroom. Who even has the luxury of that in college?
But I’m not complaining. If Dolly does give me the seal of approval, I will allow myself to unpack.
I think that’s why I haven’t yet. Because I haven’t even started looking after Elsie, and I’ve never met her mother, and in general, I’m waiting for something to go wrong or for someone to pinch me and wake me up.
If dinner with Dolly goes well, the first thing that’s getting set up is my mannequin, Regina. She’s been crammed in the corner of the room for way too long, and she misses her dresses.
Not that I’ve designed or constructed a dress—or anything, really—in a long time. I’m seriously blocked. Every time I go to the fabric store downtown, I see and buy all the fabrics, all the patterns, all the florals, but every time I’m standing in front of Regina, nothing. The fabrics look too bright, too big, too tacky, too… meh.
And if there’s one thing I don’t do, it’smeh.
My phone rings as I’m about to leave the room, and I pick it up.
It’s Mama Hadlee.
“Beaumont, sweetie, how are you? How’s college?” her honey-infused voice breaks out through the speaker.
“I’m good, Mama. College is great so far. The campus is huge. So easy to get lost,” I tell her, and I can feel her smile even though I can’t see her.
Mama Hadlee will never get technology, as many times as I try to show her. It’s not her fault, really. At seventy years old, it’s a miracle she hasn’t had any health problems yet. I was a late surprise baby, you see. I never met my dad.
He died on the highway on his way back to North Carolina. He was tired, the driver in front of him was a douchebag, and all it took was a sudden brake and dad lost control of his truck and his life with it.
My mama raised me on her own without any help, and she did a phenomenal job, if I do say so myself. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be in college now. She wants me to follow my path, and then once I graduate, she will sell her farm and move out here to live out the rest of her retirement.
“That’s good. I can’t wait to see all the pretty clothes you design. How’s the inspiration going?”
“Crap,” I say.
“Beaumont,” she scolds, but I know it’s lighthearted. She used to be a lot stricter about my language when I was growing up, but she has relaxed in recent years.
Probably because she realizes I’m an adult now.
“It’ll come to you. Don’t stress it,” she says after a moment’s silence. “Are you ready for tomorrow? How’s the little girl?”
“She’s not here yet. Her mom should be here with her any moment now and I’ll get to meet her.”
“That’s a bit late for a little girl to be up, isn’t it?” Mama asks.
I take the phone off my ear and check the time.
