Page 4 of British Daddy to Go

2

Maggie

Istifle a yawn as I take in the sides of a white suit coat. It’s only two in the afternoon, but I’m already exhausted. After lunch, Gloria decided to give me a higher workload. The small tailoring jobs I did on the side at my parents’ dry cleaner prepared me for hemming pants, so the work is easy for me to handle.

The problem is, I’mbored. I don’t know what I expected when I took this job, but it wasn’t this. No one makes any noise in this room, aside from the occasional grunt or swear when the old sewing machines jam. I’ll have to ask Gloria if I’m allowed to bring my headphones to drown out the quiet. I’m used to working in my parents’ boisterous shop, not in a place where you can literally hear a pin drop.

“How are you doing, dear?” Gloria asks from behind me, nearly causing me to break a seam. “I haven’t given you too much, have I?”

“No, no. This is fine. I’ve got it.”

She picks up the white pants that I finished a few minutes ago and examines the new seams and hem. “You’re doing great work, Maggie. I’ve never met a natural like you.”

Her praise makes up for the intense boredom I’ve been feeling for the last two hours. “Thank you so much.”

“Keep up the good work, dear.”

Gloria returns to her station, swinging her wide hips as she goes. The Latina woman has the same body type as me, which is a relief. When I first saw the skinny, perfect people working in sales, I thought for sure I’d be the odd one out. Most of the other tailors are thin, but there are a couple who look like Gloria and me.

“Gloria,” I call out before she takes her seat. “I meant to ask you, am I allowed to bring headphones?”

She laughs. “Can’t handle the silence?”

I shake my head. “It’s driving me a little crazy.”

“Of course, dear. Anything to make you comfortable. We don’t do a whole lot of communicating between us anyway.”

Thank goodness. I might have had to quit if it was always going to be this silent. I’m afraid to shift in my seat in case the hard plastic squeaks. I’ve forced down a few sneezes to avoid making a scene. Having something to listen to will at least give me the illusion that there’s noise around me.

My suit jacket begs for attention, so I return to the side seams. The person who measured the guy I’m tailoring this suit for was meticulous, which makes my job easier. I know his height, his weight, the width of his shoulders, and the length of his legs and torso. I could perfectly sew his entire suit without meeting the guy, though measurements aren’t as good as trying it on for size.

According to Gloria, the customer will be in tomorrow, and she’ll take me through the process of checking the adjustments on an actual human. I’ve never done that before!

Once this suit is finished, I move on to the next one. This pin-striped suit will be my last one of the day, and also the hardest. The pin stripes mean I have to line up every seam perfectly. Not as fun as the simple fabrics, but I’m used to working with funky patterns. The clothes I used to sew together for my family were rarely solid colors. I’m a big fan of flowers, and they’re extremely difficult to get right.

Thinking about my old projects sends my mind down a rabbit hole. On a shelf in the corner of the room are reams of multicolored fabrics. We make custom-designed pocket squares and liners for high profile clients, so there is always fabric on hand just in case. There’s a blue silk that would look amazing inside the white suit I finished earlier. I would add paisley pocket liners and a strip above the pockets on the pants, too.

I sigh loudly enough for Gloria to look over at my station. “You okay, dear?”

“Yeah, sorry. These pin stripes are just a pain.”

“Let me know if you need my help,” she responds before returning to her project.

I can’t let my mind wander like that. This isn’t about my dreams. Someday, I’ll get to do whatever I want, like add color to a boring white suit. That’s partially why I took this job in the first place. I figured I could expand my horizons and learn new techniques. But what I really want to do is be a designer. More specifically, I want to design wedding dresses. It’s been my dream since I was a little girl.

This is just a step in the right direction.

The front door bell rings for the first time in almost an hour, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome!” I hear my boss say from the front end. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Cheers,” a deep, sexy voice responds. I’ve never heard a voice as beautiful as this one. I can only imagine what the owner looks like. “It has been a long while, hasn’t it? Sorry about that. There’s been a lot of traveling overseas.”

“No worries!” my boss replies. “Just glad to see you now. What are you in the market for?”

Gloria and the other women surrounding me are focused intently on their work; none of them are paying me any attention. I’m almost done with this last suit… I can take a short break. If anyone asks, I’ll just say I forgot where the bathroom is.

Mercifully, my chair doesn’t scrape against the floor when I slide it away from my station. I glance around the room one last time to make sure no one cares what I’m doing, and then I walk slowly to the curtain separating us from the sales floor.