Chapter 7
Cassy
I acted like he wasn’t there, but I found it sweet that he was tugging along even with his bad knee. He was certainly sending me mixed signals, and it was driving me crazy.
“Are you sure you don’t need to curl up at home and rest?” I finally asked when we came back after an hour of window shopping. Yes, I didn’t buy anything because Ivan had actually made me promise or he would double my farm chores. It was a good thing I didn’t really see anything I liked.
He shook his head. “I’m fine here.”
“You can go knit a sweater or something,” I said jokingly, trying to insult him on purpose. At the back of my mind, I could still remember how he’d made me feel when he had kissed me on the cheek out in the fields. My heart began to pound harder just thinking about it.
He made a snorting sound as a reaction to my ego-wounding suggestion. I laughed.
“You might run off with my car,” he said.
“Haha, very funny!” I snapped. “Well, suit yourself. We’re going to The Craft Lady to do some real shopping now.”
“Wait,” he said, grabbing my arm as I turned to leave.
The sudden touch sent a tingle down my spine. I shook off his hand. “What now?”
He opened his palm and gestured to my hand bag. “Give me half of your money.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because you need to learn how to budget,” he explained, sounding quite patient. “You might end up wasting your entire week’s salary.”
“First of all, it’s my salary and you have no right telling me what to do with it,” I told him irritably. “Second, I’m not going to waste it because I’ll be buying supplies for my project.”
“What project?”
“It’s really none of your business,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Is it a project that will help you earn money?” he inquired, his eyes narrowing.
“You sound just like my dad,” I said with annoyance. He looked taken aback. “But yes, it will help me earn money eventually.”
I was getting really angry at how he was talking like he knew me so well. Okay, maybe those points did drive home. But now I was dead set on proving him wrong. Fuming, I didn’t even bother to respond anymore. I just walked away and joined the girls again.
The arts and crafts store was a haven to me! My eyes widened at all the cute little trinkets and shelves of supplies I found. It was actually a two-story house that had been transformed into a quaint shop. The Craft Lady herself, a lady called Mrs. Wells, assisted us personally.
“What kind of fabrics do you have?” I asked her.
“Oh, you must be a fashion designer,” she said cheerfully. “You sure look like one.”
That made me grin. “Just starting out,” I said.
“Well, everybody has to start somewhere, right?” she said, leading me up the stairs to the second floor. “Come, I’ll show you my collection of fabrics.”
When she opened the door to a room filled with rolls and rolls of laces, silks, cottons, linens, chiffons, wools, and more, I felt like a little girl in a candy store. “Enjoy yourself,” Mrs. Wells said. “And don’t forget me when you become famous someday.”
I was ecstatic. “Thank you,” I whispered right before I waltzed into the room and examined almost each color and type of fabric, my mind whirring with visions of creations I intended to make. As my fingers glided through the materials, I suddenly knew that this was something I had always wanted to pursue. I vowed at that moment to work hard on this project and show my father that I could be someone important in my chosen industry.
Jenny and Mel had to tear me away from the store. It was a good thing too because I’d spent almost everything I had. I was also grateful that Mrs. Wells had offered to deliver my items for free, because we surely couldn’t haul them all back to the car.
On our way back, a dress on display caught my eye. I instantly stopped and stepped into the store, which was actually a little upscale for a small town. The owner of the store was there, telling us about her curated items from around the world. There were so many pretty clothes and shoes inside that I couldn’t decide which one to get with my limited money. It was upsetting not to have that same financial freedom I used to enjoy.
As I was ringing up a pair of sandals at the counter with my last bit of money, I felt a wave of satisfaction and joy. I was already picturing the outfits I wanted to wear them with, but as we were heading back, I remembered Ivan’s warning. A flash of guilt instantly burst my bubble, and I hated the feeling it gave me.
He had a knowing look on his face when he saw the shopping bag I was carrying. He tried to peek inside, but I shooed him away. “None of your business,” I told him flat out.
Jenny and Mel watched over my package while I drove. We dropped them off at Jenny’s place before heading over to Aunt Ellen’s.
“You bought only one item?” he asked, not wanting to drop the topic.
“No,” I answered just to get him off my case. “I spent the rest of my money on that project, okay? Mrs. Wells will deliver everything tomorrow.”
“So you did spend all your hard-earned money?” he prodded. “Poof! Gone just like that?”
It was certainly irritating. I didn’t understand why he was so adamant to monitor my spending. I didn’t answer anymore.
When we got home, Aunt Ellen invited him to stay for dinner. I was so glad he didn’t bring up the subject of my money again, so we ended up sharing a more or less peaceful meal.
I was back in a good mood by the end of dinnertime. I even helped Aunt Ellen with the dishes while Ivan stepped outside.
“I’m going to bed, dear,” Aunt Ellen told me afterwards. “I have a headache coming.”
“Okay, rest well,” I told her. “Good night.”
“Good night.”