Bess had brought an apron with her. While she put it on, Hanna went back to the kitchen to fetch another chair. She placed it near her own chair, by the north window.

Two chairs a comfortable distance apart. They looked as if they were already in conversation.

19

LENGTHS OF THE GREEN SPRIGGED lawn were unrolled on the counter. Hanna had already pinned about half the pattern pieces in place. Now she hesitated, her best pair of scissors in one hand and a paper pattern piece in the other.

She had cut out a great many garments before, of course, for herself and for Papa. But all those had been made with ordinary fabrics—muslins, denims, calicos. The lawn was the most expensive fabric she had ever worked with.

“Are you good at cutting?” she asked Bess.

“I never did before, not a dress,” Bess said. “Only things like aprons. Ma cuts our dresses.” She looked a little alarmed, and Hanna realized that Bess did not want to cut the fabric.

Hanna hadn’t considered what it would mean to be Bess’s employer. Being in the same class at school didn’t necessarily mean that they were the same age; Bess might well be older than Hanna. And the white person was almost always the boss, not the other way around.

A flutter of panic rose in her throat.

I don’t want her to be my employee. I want her to be my friend.

But she had to have help with the sewing, and besides, Bess was here, ready to work.

I won’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.

“How would it be if I pin the rest of the pattern, and you start basting the pieces that are already pinned? That way, there’s less chance of the pattern slipping, and I’ll be able to cut it without worrying.”

Basting was sewing with large, simple stitches, using a contrasting color of thread that was easy to see. It was a temporary, intermediate step; all the basting threads would be removed from the final garment.

“I can baste,” Bess said eagerly.

Hanna relaxed a little, feeling as though she had passed her first test as a boss.

They began pinning and basting the pattern pieces. Then Hanna cut out one of the smallest pieces, the fold-over stand collar. Basted down, the pattern piece stayed firmly in place; she was glad she had decided on that extra step. She could hear in her head another of Mama’s favorite sayings: “To save time, take time.”

Hanna had known she was lonely, but she had always thought that it was a combination of missing Mama and not having a real home. Only now did she realize how badly she had needed someone to talk to, other than Papa.