Page 13 of Sew Matcha in Love
“Yay!” Isla clapped.
“Isla! The other thing!” Amelie hissed.
“Oh! Daddy, can Wynnie come, too? She has all these pretty white dresses!”
Zaki’s brow crinkled. “Sure. We could use a Marshmallow, the snow monster.”
“No, Daddy!” Amelie giggled.
“Olaf?”
“We already have an Olaf!” Isla reminded him.
I tilted my head, confused. Did Zaki have a girlfriend?
“The dog,” he supplied. “Laffy is short for Olaf, and Vennie is short for Sven.”
“Ah!” I smiled in understanding. “Girls, I am so honored you thought of me, but this is an important daddy-daughter date.”
Amelie shrugged. “Sometimes he’s too much fun and I get tired. If you came, you could help me find a quiet place. Right?”
My eyes widened. For a girl her age to be able to identify the cause of stress and know what to do about it certainly was surprising.
“She gets panic attacks,” Isla explained. “Sometimes I can help, but sometimes I can’t. And Daddy tries, but…”
Zaki cleared his throat. “It’s, ah, new.” He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Overstimulation leads to meltdowns, and that escalated when the girls moved to Canada last summer.”
“So, can you come, Wynnie?” Isla asked. “We can help you pick out a snow queen dress!”
I met Zaki’s gaze, my eyes asking the silent question. Poor guy looked hopeless. I could definitely help. Amelie sounded a lot like me at her age after my mother left to chase bad guys.
“A snow queen, hmm?” I squatted down to the girls’ level. “Tell me what a snow queen’s dress should look like, and I’ll pull out a few options.”
“Yay!” Amelie wrapped her arms around me from the side. “Thank you!”
Isla tapped her chin again. “Long sleeves, because it’s cold. And big balloon poufs on your shoulders.”
“Puffed sleeves?” I asked, rising up and edging backward until I was sitting in the armchair.
“Yes!” Amelie crawled into my lap. “And a big skirt, like a bell!”
“Okay, I have a few like that. What else?”
“A crown!” they shouted simultaneously.
“I have several. How about we choose the dress first, and then you can help with accessories?”
“Yes!”
“I’ll need an assistant to help carry the dresses. Someone tall, strong. Know anyone?” I guided a giggling Amelie off my lap.
“Daddy, will you hold the dresses?” Isla sighed. “She was talking about you, you know.”
He bowed. “Kristoff at your service.”
I returned his grin and spun on my heel toward the opposite wall, where the petite gowns hung. I had two dresses in mindthat would be a good fit—and fit me. One was a scaled-down version of Princess Diana’s from the early 1980s and the other a sparkly strapless number from the early 2000s. Instead of sleeves, it had arm-length fingerless gloves with poufs just below the shoulder.
I retrieved the clear garment bags from the rack and hung them over Zaki’s arm. “Follow me.”
