The Descendant

I got into a routine pretty quickly. I went to class, ignoring and being ignored by my fellow students, got a lunch (on Wednesdays, I went to Central Park and had lunch with Aunt Amy), and either went to work or to the public library. Interest evaluations that the guidance counselor had given me showed that I had interests all over the map, so I was doing some reading to investigate, and the counselor had some names that I could contact once I'd learned more to set up informational interviews. I wasn't surprised at how silent the house was with Deri gone--even when she's not talking, the house seems to hold its breath waiting for her to start--but I was kind of surprised by how much I missed her. She talked to Mom and Dad each week, but we mostly communicated by emails; she wrote a little several days during the week, saved it, and sent it on Sunday at the beginning of the hours that they had for contacting the outside world, and I did the same. She was disappointed that Aunt Amy had moved out but she was having the time of her life.

I too was having fun. One thing I loved the most about my job was talking with the customers, asking what they were making. Sometimes they didn't want to talk, but mostly they did, and a lot of them explained how they were going to make their (clothes, draperies, slipcovers, do their upholstery) which was educational for me, and also inspirational. One day on the way home, I stopped by Target to pick up a steam iron and pressing pad, having learned the importance of pressing seams flat, and that night cut out the fabric for one square cushion and one roll. I had two fabrics that were complimentary, a silver upholstery-grade velvet and a lavender brocade, with slightly darker purple piping for the edging. It took a couple of hours (I was nervously sewing slowly, not wanting to have to rip out stitches and pressing the seams at each stage) but when I went downstairs again after carefully unplugging everything and cleaning up, I had two really nice pillows. I took pictures and showed them off at work the next day. Everybody was kind enough to say that they looked really good. Emboldened by my success, I started looking around to see what else I could make for my room. I talked to my coworkers and hit the internet, and, inspired by this research and the makeover shows that were constantly on the viewing screens at work, came up with a plan.

"I wanted to know if I can paint my room," I said to my parents one night at dinner. "Maybe change some furniture."

"What color would you want?" Dad asked. I passed over a paint chip, a pretty light purple called Fairy Garden that I'd gotten at a hardware store on the way home.

"And this one for the wainscot," I said, sliding over a pretty off-white that had rosy tones to it.

"Huh," Dad said, and passed them to Mom.

"These are nice colors, not too dark," she said after a moment where I thought she'd refuse out of habit, the existing ivory paint being in good condition.

"Ok, honey," Dad said, so I started my plans. He said that he'd pay for the paint, so that was a great savings to me. I held off a week because it would be an all-day project, possibly more depending on how slow I was, and Grandma Alex was having a birthday party for the nation and Uncle Steve on the Fourth of July. Her house is gorgeous and it was fun to talk to my cousins, play horseshoes and other games, eat barbeque, and play with Eira, Sigurd, and Torburn. That last alone is worth coming for. But I also had an agenda, and after awhile, my target was alone, so I sidled up to Grandpa Henry, Grandma Alex's dad and the only person I knew who had power tools and the knowledge to use them. We talked a little, then I asked for a favor.

"It's pretty big," I warned, and he looked interested. So I pulled out my plans from the pocket of my shorts and showed him what I had in mind. My room was kind of long and thin, which I loved because there were so many windows. There was a bay window down by the fireplace, and I wanted to make a window seat for it. Additionally, I wanted to make my bed cosier by kind of enclosing the space with decorative screens to sort of frame the area. There were two electrical outlets where I could put lights for reading in bed. It would make changing the sheets a little more difficult, but I loved the idea of sleeping in a special sort of nook. I'd had some ideas about how to attach them to the walls and ceiling with minimal damage, which Grandpa Henry refined, and said he'd be pleased to help me with it. I asked how much the wood would be, and he promised to text me the estimate. I'd learned from all our customers that budgets were critical because there was no end to how much you could spend on a project, and done some research to figure out how to prepare one.

After that I waited until it looked like most people were done and went over to wish Uncle Steve a happy birthday. He gave me a hug and said it had been a pretty good day. Cousin Chris had tried to make his dad breakfast but burned it and had to be rescued by Aunt Emma. "It's the thought that counts," I said, and he grinned.

"Good thing, because the place still reeked of burned French toast when we left to come here," he said, and I laughed. "So what are you up to these days, honey?"

"I'm taking summer school and I have a part time job at a fabric store," I said, which got his attention.

"I worked there for awhile when I was at FIT," he said. "It's such a nice place." During our conversation, I showed him the pictures of my pillows and he thought they looked well done. One thing about Uncle Steve is that he's totally a straight shooter, especially about things he's familiar with. If he hadn't thought they were good, he wouldn't have said so. I described my plans for my room makeover and he had some suggestions. "Come by next week with the dimensions of your windows and I can help you with your designs," he said, and we agreed on Thursday afternoon, when I didn't have to work.

So I had plans and firm commitments for help, and I went ahead and planned. At work, another employee who'd been there for years helped me learn about drapery fabrics, why they should be lined, and how to choose the fabrics for specific looks and styles. Thursday I went over to Uncle Steve's atelier, where he had materials he'd pulled out from his student days, and I explained the look of the room that I was trying to achieve. Right now there were blinds with slats underneath what he called a pelmet, a ruffle of fabric that concealed the top of the window casing and the blinds. I wanted long, luxurious draperies, but he cautioned me against the ones that puddle on the floor because they collect lint and dust bunnies. I had my window measurements with me and we worked out the yardage that I'd need for simple panels; I had six windows but they were narrow enough that I could get by with one width of fabric to cover them (plus one was in the bathroom) and I agreed that they should be simple; I didn't want them to dominate the room. We talked about tie-backs, which he said would be a great place to put some detail like a decorative trim, and he gave me a copy of the instructions he'd gotten in school. "I'd like to see your room when you're done," he said. "It sounds like you have great ideas."

And on Saturday, I spent the whole day at Grandpa Henry's workshop. His wife, Grandma Rose, is the one who owns the Barnraising coffee shops. She had the day off and came in periodically to give us coffee and lunch. And Grandpa George, Henry's dad, came by to help. It was a huge help because he graciously did the sanding for me. We dry-fit the window seat, which was placing the pieces together to make sure they'd fit; we didn't use my actual bay window, obviously, but we marked the area on the floor with masking tape and we used clamps to support the pieces, so it looked good. And best of all, Grandpa George said he'd deliver. I'd been a little concerned about how I was going to fit all the pieces in the trunk of my pod. He made the time to deliver on my next afternoon off, on Tuesday.

I was so excited. And even better, Alan was going to be working with Alfred in the apple orchard next week, so I wouldn't have to deal with him.

Sunday I bought the fabric for my draperies, more of the plain silver velvet I'd used for my cushion (I ran the math several different times to make sure I had the numbers right) with the right type of lining, and I found a pretty lavender crystal trim for the tiebacks. Three spools of thread, there were a lot of hems. It was expensive, even with my discount, but I'd saved a lot on the screens because they were constructed from strips of wood cut down from 2 x 4s and thin laser-cut panels that we'd picked up at the lumber yard. The window seat hadn't even required a full sheet of plywood although we were going to attach some decorative molding to make it special. I bought a dark silver velvet, thicker, for the window seat cushion. There were a lot of hems for the draperies, but they were all straight and I was surprised at how fast it all came together. All except the tiebacks, they were fussier, what with the trim.

Since I didn't have to buy the paint, I got two small plug-in sconces for my bed area with a bit of conduit to cover the ugly cords and a low rack of candle holders made from wrought iron that I could use in the small fireplace and burn some candles. (Mom wouldn't let Deri and me actually have fires in our fireplaces, worried that we'd be careless and burn down the house. I could understand that, but I wanted to use it, so the candles were a compromise.) I bought five scentless pillar candles for that and long matches. Monday I calculated area and priced the paint I wanted, and Dad gave me the money. Alan showed me where painting supplies were kept in the utility room, told me which roller cover was best for the smooth wallboard in my room, and went over basics like masking off areas, to cut in before rolling, and tips like using an extension handle for the roller to make the work go faster. I'd read some of this in how-to articles online, but it never hurts to have more information. And better yet, he didn't try to take over the project. I did wish that we had the texture- and color-changing panels that Uncle Tony had devised for Grandma Alex's business, but oh, well. I took a ladder upstairs with me, took down the blinds and the pelmets, and ran the masking tape around where needed so I'd have a head start. I brought up the items I'd need for the work, including plenty of drop cloths to protect the floor and furniture.

Tuesday after work, I stopped off at the hardware store to pick up the paint. I'd moved all the furniture to the center of the room before I went to school in the morning, so got the cutting in done before dinner, then got the ceiling and walls rolled before bedtime. The paint dried fast and there was no odor, so I was able to sleep soundly. Plus I was tired.

I raced home from school on Wednesday, eager to get going, bolting a sandwich and chips before going up to change. I emptied the dresser--I didn't really need one because there was enough shelving and drawers in the closet (I hadn't painted that, it was a white that wasn't too different from the white I used on the wainscot). I quickly put that stuff away then used the furniture gliders from the attic to push the dresser into the elevator, detached the headboard, and shoved that in too. Up in the attic, I unloaded the elevator and repacked it with my choices, having to make a few trips. Decorating is exhausting. I had just gotten the furniture out, leaving it in the hall, when I heard the front door open and Grandpa Henry calling out. I ran down the stairs for hugs, then helped him and Grandma Rose unpack his van. She was curious about my project and had come to help out. I helped him find the wall studs and screw cleats into the wall where we'd attach the screen panels and window seat.

Grandpa looked at my bed and asked if I was going to use a bigger bed. "You've got room for a double bed," he pointed out. "I think a queen might be pushing it, but if you want something other than your twin, now is a great time to switch out." I chewed my lip and Grandma Rose went up to the attic with me. We found a base for a double mattress that was the right height, and a mattress that had been encased in a plastic case, so she helped me wrestle that into the elevator and down into my room. We scooted it into place and got the mattress (so floppy!) into place. It just fit with plenty of room to change sheets, retrieve things that fell down between the wall and the bed, and accommodate the duvet, which was now too small. Well, if there wasn't a bigger one in the linen closet, I could get one later.

Grandpa had primed all the wood; I was crestfallen, not having even considered this, but he said live and learn, and Grandma offered to paint it so that I could have the fun of helping Grandpa install everything. It only took a couple of minutes for the paint to dry, so she was actually done with it all before we were ready for it. Grandpa's absolutely meticulous, so the installation was perfect. I filled the nail holes and would touch up the paint once that set. "This is lovely, Lys," Grandma said, looking around. "You have a good eye for color." Grandpa tossed me a small pot.

"That's silver wax," he said. "You can use it to highlight detail, like in the molding on your window seat where you don't want to add another color of paint." They helped me bring in the furniture and arrange it, then left. It wasn't even quite five yet. Wow. I touched up the paint, carefully rubbed the wax over the highlights on the molding the way Grandpa had described, then looked around, smiling. This looked awesome. I went to the linen closet for bigger sheets; I didn't see a larger duvet, but after making the bed, I wasn't sure I needed one. The twin one hung over the edges enough that no parts of me would be hanging outside when it got cold, and you couldn't see more than a couple top inches of the bedding anyway. The crisp white bedding looked really nice. I went upstairs and brought down my curtains. I had to take a break for dinner; I was starving.

"How's your painting going?" Dad asked as we ate.

"It's all done," I said happily.

"I'd like to see it," Mom said, actually sounding interested. So after dinner we all trooped up.

"I thought you were just painting," Mom said, taken aback as she looked around.

"Well...." I looked around, then just admitted it. "I took advantage to make some changes."

Dad laughed. "It's very different," he said. "But I like it."

"Grandpa Henry helped me, and we made it so that the window seat and the screens can be removed without causing a lot of damage. It's all held in with screws, so it would just be hole filling if or when it's reversed."

"It's very creative, Lys," Mom said. I showed them how the sconces worked in my bed nook. "Where did you find the draperies? In the attic?"

"No, I made them." For some reason I felt nervous. "Uncle Steve helped me plan them and gave me some instructions."

"You made them?" Dad was surprised. I nodded.

"I found an old sewing machine upstairs and fixed it up in the empty closet. I'm making a cushion for the window seat but it's not done yet." They both looked around some more; I'd found a mirror with a silver-gilt frame and hung it above a graceful vanity that Grandma said was French Provincial style. There had been two of them in the attic, and I'd repurposed the second one as my desk, adding a small Gothic-style bookcase next to it. There was a wing chair and footstool and a little table where I could leave a book and perch a water bottle. "I want to reupholster the chair and its footstool, but that's down the line."

"I have no doubt that you could do that," Dad said, "but your room looks so pretty, why don't we send it out to be done? You could have it sooner." I wavered, and agreed. Despite what my book said, I didn't really think that upholstery would be as easy as it looked in the photographs or in the videos I'd seen online.

"I think I remember seeing a small chandelier up in the attic," Mom said thoughtfully. "And you might want a rug to warm up the floor a little." We trooped upstairs then, and Mom located the small crystal chandelier that she'd had in mind. It was really pretty; the old Victorian had high ceilings and this was small and graceful, so it would look right. Better than the streamlined lighting fixture that was there now, for sure, and I realized that I could highlight the detail in the ornamental ceiling rose with the silver wax. It seemed appropriate to the new light. We checked some of the rugs that had been rolled up and tucked into the corners before finding a rectangular Oriental one in shades of ivory and soft blue; some accents in red had faded over time to a deep pink. Dad asked if he could see my sewing room, and I showed them my cushion in progress. I had enough scraps from that and the curtains to make a few more throw pillows. We went downstairs with these finds and unrolled the carpet, placing the chandelier on the window seat, and they helped me finish putting up the curtains. The tiebacks weren't all finished either, but it still looked good.

"Where's your dresser, Lys?" Mom asked suddenly, looking around.

"I don't really need it. I put my undies and sweaters and t shirts in the closet organizer," I said, showing her.

"I'm proud of you, honey," Dad said. "It's so cozy and nice in here, pretty and well planned." And to my shock, Mom gave me a hug. I couldn't remember the last time she had, come to think about it. "Deri's probably want to redecorate her room when she gets home and sees this. You've created a monster, Lys," Dad said, teasing me. I laughed. Yeah, I couldn't imagine Deri not wanting a fun room too.

"We'll ask Alan to change the lighting, then you'll be set, Lys," Mom said, and they left. I took my cleaning caddy and polished the wood, bringing it up to the standard I imagined Alfred would expect, and then I had to do my homework. At my new desk, which made it feel kind of special. My old desk chair was silver colored mesh, and it fit in well. I'd have to wait to put the books in the book case and arrange my vanity and all, finish moving back in, but I had to get some sleep. I doubted my teachers would care about my stab at interior design when there was sociology to discuss and geometry problems to solve.