Nobody’s Perfect

Chapter 2

It was completely dark by the time I rang my new neighbor s doorbell. I had my as-of-yet unused sewing kit, my iron, and a roll of hem tape in hand. All the things I needed to record were in my tote bag.

I hope the man has an ironing board.

Come on in, Parker said as he opened the door.

Somewhere upstairs another door slammed.

Not a fan of my idea? I asked.

She s afraid that it won t look good if it s not sewn, but she also doesn t have any other ideas and can t turn back time to give me this important information two days ago.

I followed him past blank beige walls. Stacks of boxes lined the dining room-and there, blessedly, was an ironing board. Well, if you ll have her put it on, then I ll see where the hem needs to go. We ll do our absolute best not to embarrass her.

Good luck with that. She just turned thirteen. Everything embarrasses her. Parker took the steps two at a time, and I wandered into the living room. The room sat mostly empty except for a brown leather couch too big for the space. I inhaled the new leather smell and smiled. The brown couch practically shouted, I changed houses, and I m going to have the couch that I want to have.

What was it with men and leather couches?

Beyond the living room sat a familiar kitchen. I d had all those same builder-grade appliances but had replaced them five years ago in my kitchen remodel. How the appliances in this house had survived this long, I d never know. My version of that oven, especially, had given me fits.

I ll just not go to school, a young girl s voice said.

No, you re going to school.

Okay, then. I ll skip the concert and make a bad grade.

You want to fail band? That s ridiculous.

I just got here. Why are they requiring me to participate in this concert? Besides, I m better at swim team!

Young lady, you don t have to ask why, but you do need to remember that we finish what we start in this family. All you have to do is put on that dress and come downstairs so we can hem it. Then you will go to school and you will go to the concert, or I will take your phone. As it is, I m going to hang on to it-

No!

-until we get this taken care of, because I ve had enough of your sassing.

Daddy, please!

You know what to do.

As his footsteps hit the stairs, I quickly averted my gaze to the lone decoration in the room, a picture above the fireplace. It was an oil painting of an old green house. What was the significance of that house?

That s a portrait of my grandmother s house, Parker said, and I realized I d asked the question out loud.

It s beautiful.

That it was. I wanted something to remember the place.

You grew up in the boonies, too? I asked.

No. Just lots of visits.

I tamped down my disappointment. Almost no one here had grown up in the country. No one understood how stifling the suburbs could be, with all its ridiculous rules and tangled traffic. I guess you can tell where I m from, thanks to my accent.

Nah, he said, stopping to look at the painting with me. His lips quirked, threatening a smile. What accent?

Ha ha. Very funny. Bless your heart and kiss my grits.

He turned then with a blinding grin. I like it. It s cute.

Cute?

I didn t have time to be indignant, because his daughter appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a long black dress and a scowl. She looked like a goth bride at a shotgun wedding. Gathering up the skirt to keep from tripping, she came down the stairs slowly.

This is my daughter, Cassidy, Parker said.

I would ve known she was Parker s daughter without the introduction. She had the same warm brown eyes, same mouth, same dark hair.

Pleased to meet you, I said, offering my hand.

She softened slightly at being treated like an adult, but the aura of sullen teen remained.

Did your dad tell you that I do YouTube videos?

You do? Cassidy immediately lit up, her smile wiping away all the teenage sass and leaving only a sweet girl behind.

It s brand new, so I m not famous or anything, but . . . guess what?

What? she asked as her expression slid back into exasperated cynicism.

Your dad is going to do all the work. I m just filming it.

Emotions rolled over her face: surprise, delight, concern.

I had forgotten how exhausting it was to be thirteen.

Dad, please tell me you re not going to mess this up.

He hesitated but then found a smile of his own. How can I mess it up if Miss Vivian is telling me what to do?

She digested that information and came to the conclusion that she could trust me. Lord willing, I wouldn t prove her wrong.

I ve been thinking about starting a YouTube channel, too, she said.

Let s worry about grades first, Parker added.

She rolled her eyes.

Once I d set up my phone on a tripod to record, I had Cassidy stand on a chair.

All right, Parker. You ever done any sewing?

Nope, he said with a sheepish grin. He was trying his best not to look over his shoulder at the phone.

Me neither.

Both father s and daughter s eyes bugged out, and I waited as long as I could stand it before saying, Just kidding. Besides, this is more of a sewing hack.

I might not know how to sew, but I had gone as far as to sign up for a class at JOANN with Rachel and Abi. As a result, I had some neat accessories, including one of those little bracelets with the pincushion. I handed it over to Parker and was amused by how far he had to stretch the plastic to get it over his wrist.

Is this absolutely necessary? he asked.

No, but it s fun. First step: figure out how long the skirt needs to be.

Since Cassidy didn t have any specifics, we had to make an educated guess. I showed Parker how to place a few pins around the skirt to use as guidelines later. The dress hung way past her bubblegum-pink toenails. It looked as though we would need to cut off almost six inches of material, and then we d still have about four inches to fold under.

Why not just cut it off and call it a day? Parker asked.

Dad! Cassidy exclaimed at the same time I said, Because then the ends would fray. Also, it s a good idea to have extra material so you can let the skirt down if Cassidy grows before the next concert.

Sure. Let the skirt down, he said, even though his tone betrayed that he didn t really know what I was talking about. Now what?

Now Cassidy is going to take off that dress, and the fun will begin!

She gathered her skirt and jumped down from the chair. He looked at my phone with a lopsided grin and said, Her idea of fun and my idea of fun are two very different things.

A natural! His little aside would be so cute when I started editing.

Be careful taking that off, and don t scratch yourself with the straight pins! I yelled after Cassidy.

I handed Parker the world s tiniest metal measuring stick, one that had come with my sewing kit.

What the heck is this?

A tiny ruler.

I can see that, but what is it for?

Well, you re going to double-check the placement of the pins and make sure everything is even using that, and -I reached into my bag and brought out a piece of tailor s chalk- you ll mark the fabric with this.

This seems a little complicated.

Welcome to womanhood, I said. Why make things easy when you can make them complicated?

I m going to plead the Fifth. His tone was dry, but his eyes danced.

Cassidy emerged from the bathroom and handed me her dress. Is it okay if I go finish my Spanish homework now?

S , I said at the same time Parker said, Oui.

Spanish, Dad. She rolled her eyes, but she couldn t quite keep the smile off her face.

Ready? I asked as I held out the dress to Parker.

Ready as I ll ever be.

I showed him how to measure the material, then use the tailor s chalk to create a second guideline. Once we d measured everything-twice-it was time to bring over the ironing board and place the tape.

Once he got the hang of placing the tape, then holding the iron over that spot to melt it and make the two pieces of fabric adhere to each other, he settled into a rhythm and could converse. So, why do you make videos like this?

Oh, I said, surprised because even my husband didn t care one whit what I was up to. When I told him I d started a YouTube channel, he hadn t even looked up from his phone but mechanically said, That s nice.

Parker paused in his ironing and looked up at me expectantly.

The cool thing about videos, though, was that you could edit them, so I decided to ramble with the idea that I could edit this part out if I needed to. Or maybe play music over the video of Parker s careful ironing.

Well, I used to have a blog, but blogs aren t as much of a thing anymore. I just like to tell stories and make people laugh, maybe help them learn something new-like, say, hemming a dress.

Really? What s it called? He turned his attention back to his ironing. There was something really fascinating about his large fingers confidently and carefully moving the dress, lining up the fabric with the chalk line, and carefully ironing the adhesive. It was like he d been born to craft.

It s called the Mom Scouts.

He chuckled as he shifted the fabric and added more hem tape. And what do the Mom Scouts do?

Remember the elevator pitch, Vivian - the Mom Scouts credo, if you will.

You know how sometimes adulting is just a pain in the ass?

Parker grinned. You mean like right now?

Yeah. I started the Mom Scouts videos because sometimes you deserve a glass of wine. Or a badge. Or a badge and a glass of wine.

Which do I get?

Bragging rights and a hemmed dress?

He made a face. What are some other badges I could earn?

Oh, anything and everything. Sometimes it s something we have to do. Sometimes it s something we want to do. Last week I made a video about earning my Hiking Badge. I d lived here for twenty years and never hiked Kennesaw Mountain.

I haven t done that yet, either, he said. The iron hissed, and he shifted the fabric.

The best was two weeks ago when I earned my Animal Control Badge, I said with a laugh. Rachel had a lizard loose in her house, and we managed to catch it in a shoebox and release it into the wild. You should ve seen the histrionics.

He looked up at me with a smile. From you?

Moi? I am a bona fide country girl and have no trouble with lizards. I waited a beat. But I may have screamed the one time when only its head was visible and I thought it was a snake.

He laughed out loud.

After that, I did the cursing, I ll have you know. Rachel was in charge of screaming. But the lizard was captured, unharmed, and released into the wild. Then we earned our Finger of Bourbon Badge.

He chuckled as he shifted the fabric and ironed and shifted and ironed. It truly was mesmerizing. I hadn t had the outsider s view the other day, when I d done this same thing for my living room curtains.

So do I get a badge for this? he asked.

Absolutely. You get the Sewing Hack Badge, I said as I picked up the fabric we d cut from the bottom of the dress and draped it over my shoulder. I ve been making little clip-art badges, but I suppose we could look into real ones.

Cool. I think I deserve the Best Dad Ever Badge.

Dad! Cassidy yelled from upstairs.

He s right, you know, I called up the stairs. A sigh of the long suffering was my only response.

And done! he exclaimed. I think.

I inspected his work. I believe we have a dress. With a hem.

Cassidy! he called. Come try this on, please.

In a few minutes she bounded down the steps. She threw the dress on over the tank top and shorts she was wearing. Oh, to have that young blood, as my grandmother would ve said.

And? Parker asked.

She went into the downstairs powder room to check out her reflection. I guess it ll do.

You guess it ll do?

No, it s nice. Thanks, Daddy, she said as she leaned up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

That familiar pang of loss gripped my heart. I d always wanted a daughter. I pasted a smile on my lips and told my heart to be glad for the healthy son I did have. Goodness knew I d worked hard enough to get him.

Cassidy jerked at the dress in her attempt to get it off.

Whoa! I said. You need to be careful. This is more of a temporary fix that will only work if you don t wear this dress that often.

She slowed down, and Parker helped her get the dress over her shoulders.

Sorry! she said.

Tell Miss Vivian thank you, too, Parker said.

Oh, I didn t-

Thanks, Miss Viv! Cassidy tackled me with a fierce hug and then raced back up the stairs.

Wow. She doesn t hug just anyone, you know, Parker was saying. You ve really made an impression.

Hopefully a good one.

Well, you ve made a good impression on me. Thank you so much for helping me out with my little conundrum. Usually I google things and muddle through, but this project had me at a loss.

Oh, you did all the work. Thanks for letting me make a video.

I would say anytime to that, but I don t think I want to be a YouTube sensation, he said with a self-deprecating smile. I had a feeling he was going to be popular, whether he wanted to be or not.

Miss Vivian?

I looked up at the top of the stairs where Cassidy stood. Yes?

Can I show my friends the video when you re done with it?

I looked to Parker, who nodded. I rarely cursed in my videos, so I could see no harm in it. The preteen set would be bored in minutes. Or laughing at the old lady in seconds.

Sure, baby.

What s your channel?

The Mom Scouts.

What s it about? she asked, with more enthusiasm than I would ve expected from a teen.

Well, when I was little, my mom wouldn t let me be in Girl Scouts. She had to work irregular hours and knew she d have a hard time getting me to meetings. She never said so, but I think money was tight, too. Sooooo I decided to create my own merit badges of life.

Oh. My mom can t take me to things, either, because she died when I was seven.

I m so sorry, I said.

I m used to it. Mostly. She shrugged. But I miss her.

I bet you do, I said. For half a second I missed my own mother, but then I remembered how we really weren t speaking since she d retired to Florida. I felt a twinge of relief that I didn t have to chat with Mom every day. Then guilt came to pay a visit. Here I was with a living mother, and poor Cassidy had none.

Thanks again, Miss Viv, she said, disappearing before I could even get out the words you re welcome.

My heart gave an extra-quick beat, and I turned to Parker. She s a sweet girl.

He snorted.

No, really.

She s been on her best behavior for you, he said.

And that s as it should be. I gathered my phone, tripod, and sewing supplies, then tested the iron to see if it had cooled down before winding the cord around it.

Seriously, I can t thank you enough. I can t believe I went out there and asked for a favor in my first neighborhood conversation.

Not a problem. And now you know where to find us if you need anything.

Same thing here, and I owe you one, he said as he walked me to the door.

It was nothing, really, I said.

We bid each other good night, and I walked across my empty yard, shivering because it had gotten chillier as the night wore on. I hesitated at the door.

With Mitch still traveling and Dylan at college, the house felt . . . empty.

Lucky s meows traveled through the door, and I fumbled with the key. There. I wasn t alone. I had an indignant cat to keep me company.

And thanks to Parker, now I had a video to edit. Hopefully, it d make a few people smile, maybe even chuckle.