Free Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing by KATHY CANO-MURILLO Page A

freeway traffic, ran yellow lights, and made it to the store. Once she stepped inside, she cringed. The hole-in-the-wall retail outlet looked like it hadn’t seen Mr. Clean in decades. Dirty posters hung from the ceiling, crooked record bins were covered with glittered paper that peeled at the corners, and the tacky wall mosaics made from guitar picks were not her idea of a classy place to shop. She reminded herself she was there to save her marriage, and that involved sacrifice. Thank goodness she had a travel bottle of hand sanitizer in the car.
    Ultimately, she didn’t curse the hassle, because the excursion ended on an unexpected high note.
    While she waited for the record to be gift-wrapped by the store’s punk-rock attendant, Mary Theresa spied a mannequin in the corner of the store.
    Wait
, she thought,
it’s a real person—a petite and exquisite one at that.
Mary Theresa marveled at her outfit from afar—a red, sparkly and swirly brocade knee-length shirtcoat, definitely vintage, over black leggings with velvet flats. Her hair was fiery red and pinned back at the crown like Rita Hayworth in one of those old black-and-white films. Before Mary Theresa could look away, the young woman noticed her, walked over, and introduced herself as if they were high school friends, finally reuniting.
    “I love your hair color; it reminds me of Natalie Wood’s. I have friends who would kill for that shade of chestnut. I’m Scarlet Santana, by the way. My friend owns this place,” Scarlet said in full glee, admiring Mary Theresa’s head.
    Mary Theresa wished she had an ounce of Scarlet’s radiance as she shyly ran her fingers down her own bangs and over the back of her thick ponytail. She wasn’t used to being complimented out of the blue like that and had never considered her hair to be “chestnut.” Just plain, old, boring dark brown. Hadleyoften remarked about how much he loved her wavy locks, but Mary Theresa assumed he was being polite and brushed him off. Maybe he really meant it. Why didn’t she pay more attention to those moments? Maybe she would get one tonight after he opened her gift and listened to her apology.
    She smiled back at Scarlet and praised her head-turning ensemble. Turns out, Scarlet had made it from scratch, without even using a pattern! They struck up a conversation about sewing. Back in high school, Mary Theresa loved to sew all her own clothes. Scarlet told her about a new “patternless sewing” class she was going to teach there at the record store. Mary Theresa concluded that patternless sewing definitely qualified as a “free-form” art workshop for her marriage counseling assignment.
    Mary Theresa left the store with a copy of John Coltrane’s
A Love Supreme
in one hand and a $500 receipt for the sewing class in the other. Gritty or not, she planned to revisit Vega’s Vicious Vinyl once a week.
    And this is going to fix my marriage. Go figure,
she thought.
    Mary Theresa impressed herself with her multitasking skills. Only five minutes late from lunch! If only Hadley would open his mind, he could learn a tip or two from her. She proceeded to her desk, where she released a confident sigh and placed her belongings in the bottom drawer of her desk. Just as she was about to check her e-mail, she saw it—a note from Sandra, her supervisor, asking for Mary Theresa to stop by her office ASAP. Assuming it had to with the yellow slips, Mary Theresa picked up her notepad to head over. As she walked down the gray-carpeted hall, she passed Jay, the new college intern.
    “Enjoy your holiday. See you next year!” he chirped.
    What an odd thing to say,
Mary Theresa thought as she saluted him with two fingers to her forehead. She’d better mention it to Sandra. The kid obviously had a loose screw in that head.
    Mary Theresa had barely entered the office when Sandra asked—no,
instructed
—her to close the door.
    “I hope I didn’t get anyone in too much trouble,” Mary Theresa said as she