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I could practically hear the rolling of her eyes in her skull in the pause that ensued.
“I’ll try,” she finally said.
I pumped my fist into the air.
“I’ll stop by one of the stores on my way home and see what I can scrounge up for you,” she added.
“Thanks. You’re a gem.” I knew exactly what reaction I’d get for that one.
“Ha ha. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
Animated, I hung up and dialed the hospital myself rather than laying that on Clary’s shoulders, too.
I wasn’t the heel-clicking type ordinarily, but I could sympathize with the urge to do something so over-the-top.
This was a victory. This was going to happen.
“It’s time to work a Christmas miracle,” I said while the hospital’s dial tone sounded.
If only I could tell Ella about it, too. It was time to test out what would happen when I called her number.
SEVENTEEN
ella
As hard asI tried to tune it out, my last conversation with Stina tormented me the rest of the day. Stina’s vile words, her derisive tone, the insult of the whole situation hammered through my brain as I sorted and pinned fabric, as I sewed stitch after stitch.
I couldn’t believe I’d said what I did.
I’d told Stina no.
And it felt better than finally mastering the right tension while crocheting.
I was going to the ball. None of this midnight curfew madness. No working all night Christmas Eve so I would be too tired to celebrate my favorite holiday.
“I’ve let Stina push me around for far too long,” I said to my vacant, messy, conjoined dining and kitchen area. “She may have my father under her thumb, but not me. Not anymore.”
Lose my job? Go ahead and take it.
Losing the stipend? I’d held onto the promise of that money for years. Potentially letting it go pinched in my chest, but I could cover the difference that loss would create, couldn’t I?
I could sleep during normal hours. Work while the sun shined. Enjoy life instead of living like a servant always at Stina’s beck and call.
My phone rang, interrupting my triumphal musings. My senses heightened because Hawk’s name was on the screen. Heart pounding, I swiped to answer.
I wasn’t used to being this nervous, but it was thrilling.
“Hey, there.” His voice on the phone stroked across my skin like melted butter. “What are you doing right now?”
“Sewing,” I said, sinking back in my chair. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking about you.”
A little squeak escaped my lips. How cute was that?
“I thought we should talk about the ball. How does dinner first sound?”
“Dinner sounds great.”
