bubble-gum war. Clearly, she needed to be better prepared—and equipped—for children clients in her boutique. Yet this was the happy chaos of a big family. A chaos she’d always wanted. An ache curled through that soft spot.
“Mom had to smear peanut butter in the twins’ hair.” Charlotte warmed to her story. Delight flashed through her voice. “Mom even used the whole jar. But the gum never came out.”
Josie might never finish this appointment. Then she might never become a custom dressmaker. All her hard work as a daytime housecleaner and evening waitress for almost two years, all the overtime shifts and every missed meal to save enough money to open the boutique, would be wasted. And her ex-husband’s family would be right: she didn’t have what it took to be more than a seamstress in a strip mall.
Josie swiped her hand over her eyes, attempting to wipe away the obstacles of the past and focus on the obstacles in front of her. If she failed now, she’d prove more than her ex and his family right. But Josie wasn’t that foster kid anymore, either. She concentrated on Charlotte, raising her voice over the stinging taunts of her childhood. “What did your mother do?”
“Both the twins had to have their hair shaved off.” Charlotte leaned forward and patted her own head. Regret tugged down the edges of her bottom lip. “Chloe had to wear a hat forever, even though it scratched her naked head.”
No wonder the poor child hated hats. “Is there any way to make them stand still?”
“Chocolate.” Charlotte never hesitated. Never blinked. Her tone contained only authority.
The kids were already walking sugar rushes. “Can they have chocolate?”
“No.” Charlotte pointed at her chest, her blond eyebrows rising along with her grin. “But I can.”
Josie eyed the girl, appreciating the child’s crafty negotiations. Josie could use the seven-year-old’s skills. “If I give you chocolate, will you help me with your brother and sister?”
“That depends.” Charlotte adjusted the white apron of her Mrs. Claus costume. “What kind of chocolate do you have?”
One year, Josie had refused to take off the princess costume Mimi had sewn for her on Halloween. Every day after school, Mimi had a full tea party, complete with minicakes and cider, and her princess gown ready for Josie. Mrs. Cunningham offered a distracted wave aimed more at the empty dressing room than her oldest daughter and nudged the stroller in the opposite direction. Once again, she never missed a word in her phone call. No full tea party waited for Charlotte at home.
“I have a king-size chocolate-and-almond bar.” Josie had stuffed the candy bar in her purse that morning for lunch. The twin cause was worth the sacrifice. “And a new bag of chocolate drops.”
Charlotte glanced at the front of the store. “I can help for chocolate drops.”
“Deal.” Josie jumped up. She had no tea party prepared, but she could provide an all-you-can-eat chocolate experience. “Why don’t you change behind those curtains and I’ll fill up the candy dish?”
“I can eat them now?” Wonder widened Charlotte’s eyes.
“As many as you want, as long as you change.” Josie pointed at the pristine white apron of Charlotte’s costume. Mimi had convinced Josie that grass stains on the playground would ruin the princess costume. Josie had relented and worn the dress only after school. “You might be Mrs. Claus and known for baking all sorts of treats for the elves, but you don’t want chocolate stains on your outfit before your big stage debut.”
Charlotte disappeared behind the thick velvet curtains of the dressing room. Josie grinned at the twins. “One more round of airplane.”
The twins took off, increasing their flight pattern to include a full circle around one of the rolling wedding dress racks and a flyby of Josie’s bridal accessory wall. Josie dumped the bag of chocolate candy into a glass bowl and set the candy dish on the small table next to the vintage fainting couch. She reserved the candy for tired brides, coming in after long work shifts for their final wedding dress fittings.
If the candy rescued her now, she’d stock up for future fittings for children and brides alike.
Twenty minutes later, Josie waved the twins goodbye and earned a big chocolate-infused hug from Charlotte. Their mother covered her phone with her hand and thanked Josie for her time and hard work.
Josie walked to the bridal fitting area and dropped onto the fainting couch. Tin-foil candy wrappers crinkled underneath her. She tipped her head and checked the pocket-watch wall clock hanging from a chain on the wall. Fifteen minutes until the next family arrived for their costume fittings. Could she make it to the corner store and back for a candy-dish refill? She also had to finish the burgundy ball gown, suit pants and six other alterations for clients to pick up tomorrow.
The bells on the front door chimed. A familiar voice shouted, “Josie. Where are you?”
In an alteration abyss. Josie called out, “In the back.”
Mia Reid—formerly Mia Fiore—and Josie’s friend and business roommate spoke over the chiming bells. “The front door is sticking again. We need to get it fixed.”
Josie added the door repair to the bottom of her to-do list, after paying the bills and finding more clients. Josie had welcomed Mia and her start-up photography business into her boutique a year ago. In the past few months, Mia’s business had grown from portraits to events like society weddings and corporate gatherings and, most recently, still-life photographs for the global lifestyle magazine Coast to Coast Living. Josie celebrated Mia’s success and wanted her good friend to thrive.
She just wanted to celebrate her own success, too. But Josie’s bridal boutique and custom-dressmaker services had stalled somewhere between formal gown alterations and resizing everyday work wear.
Mia dropped her camera equipment near her photography displays and skipped toward Josie. Mia had been skipping since she’d recited her wedding vows three weeks ago. She punched her arms over her head like a cheerleader celebrating her team’s game-winning touchdown. “I have the absolute best news ever.”
Josie brushed candy wrappers onto the floor and dropped her arm over her eyes. How could she be so exhausted from only one kid appointment? She had more than a dozen to go—she was going to require a warehouse of chocolate. “Unless it involves a wealthy Prince Charming sweeping me off my feet, it can’t be the absolute best news ever.”
“You always tell me you can stand fine on your own two feet,” Mia argued. “No sweeping required.”
Josie peeked at her friend from under her arm. “Maybe I changed my mind.”
Mia laughed, the sound infectious and bright. “You’re telling me you’ve given up your dream to be the city’s go-to dressmaker, become wealthy on your own and live happily-ever-after exactly as you want?”
Josie frowned and wished the candy bowl wasn’t empty. The foster-care system had taught her the only person she could rely on was herself. Her disastrous marriage had reinforced that lesson. She hadn’t forgotten. “Not exactly.”
“Then listen to my best news ever.” Mia tugged on Josie’s arm, pulling her to a sitting position.
Josie rearranged the ends
