An Expert Patch Job

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She gave him a sad, but relieved smile. "I thank you. Are very kind. Is, eh, is not easy for talking about, but is make to feel better. I am no have much friend to talk with."

Ayla resumed her ironing, quickly finishing up the dress jacket and trousers, replacing them on their hangers and handing them to him. "Is room for fit, if are want change here," she told him, pointing to a curtained area at the side of the shop, away from most of the work tables. Then, she returned to the ironing board, starting on the work uniform.
 
Yeah. He understood that pain. Oh well. He was a man. He didn't deal with those weird things called 'feelings'. "Ah, thanks." he said, hurrying over to the changing room. It took him a few minutes to get everything on and straight, but soon he was walking out in his nice white dress uniform, medals pinned to his chest, hat tucked neatly under his arm, and his hands covered in nice white gloves.

He walked over to her and smiled, his old clothes on the hanger under his other arm. He pulled out his wallet and smiled at her. "How much do I still owe you?" he asked. "You did a very good job. It fits better now than it did before!"
 
Ayla stopped in her movements, staring at him for a moment before she quickly remembered the iron and yanked it off the garment before she scorched it. She hurriedly set it back on the stove and brushed her paws on her skirt, blushing furiously. She wanted to say no charge, but her brain engaged the second before her mouth did and she managed to keep it closed as she scurried back over to the service counter and pulled out the receipt book again, quickly working out the price of the alterations and cleaning. She tore out the bill and handed it over to him, still blushing pink all the way up to her ears.
 
The man smiled when he saw her get a little flustered. Ok, so, he didn't completely hate his dress uniform. He took the receipt and pulled out the appropriate amount of money, plus a nice tip for her. "Thank you very much, Miss Ayla. I will absolutely come back any time I need my uniforms fixed up." He put his wallet away and gathered up his things. "Have a nice day, Miss Ayla." he said, turning and walking out, putting his hat on his head as he stepped outside.
 
Ayla managed to mumble out a polite goodbye, and went back to her ironing. It wasn't until she lifted the cloth to shift the garment that she realised he'd left his other uniform behind. After a moment of panic, she remembered that he'd only needed the dress uniform for tonight. He could come back another time for the work uniform. She blushed again and smiled to herself at the thought of seeing him again.
 
Joshua went to his dinner, accepted his award, and went out to celebrate with his crew. He kept his whites on, which is how they got messed up the last time, but he at least decided not to go to The Order. They went out to one of the local dive bars in the general area and he sat back in a booth, watching his boys get drunk and rowdy. Prohibition was such a crock of shit....The award he got? Something about stopping one of the biggest alcohol shipments in St Louis history or something, and yet there he was, at the bar, with his award, in his uniform, a drink in his hand. Maybe the lawmakers weren't the only ones that were full of shit...
 
At the end of the day, Ayla was feeling thoughtful, so after she closed up the shop, she headed to the cemetery to visit Selim and their baby's grave. She bought a few bright flowers from the florist, who gave them to her for less since they were mostly leftovers at the end of the day. Oddly, she didn't feel the loneliness that usually drove her there. Instead, she just had some thoughts she felt like talking to someone about, and in the absence of any friends, she went to talk to Selim. She sat there, relaxing against the small stone in the poor section of the church's graveyard, tracing the name carved there with her finger as she chatted on idly in Turkish.

When the sun dipped below the river, she headed home to her mean little apartment; just a little place with a Murphy bed and bureau, a bath, toilet and sink behind a partition, and little kitchen area with an icebox and a stove all in one room. It was one of three similar bedsits above a shop on a noisy, poor street, but it was clean and warm and affordable. Ayla made a little pot of soup from some vegetables she had in the pantry, and treated herself by adding milk to make it creamy. That, some toast, and a cup of tea was her dinner, and the most she'd eaten in one sitting all day. Well, things had been worse.

Dinner and washing up completed, Ayla took the two heated kettles from the stove and poured the hot water into the bath, adding enough cold water to make it bearable. It was nice to be able to actually have a bath more than once a week. She washed and scrubbed her fur and even washed her hair. Once clean and brushed, she put on her nightdress and moved the table up against the stove and icebox, making enough room to pull the bed down. She closed the curtains to the solitary window above the kitchen counter and turned off the light, slipping into bed. She wasn't very sleepy, but it's not like she had much else to do tonight. She lay awake, thinking of the handsome officer in the shop today. At least she knew he looked good for whatever function he needed to go to this evening.

Yes, he looked very good.
 
It wasn't until Tuesday when the chief came back for his other uniform that he left. He walked in with a few other uniforms over his arm, normal every day uniforms, and set them on the counter. "Miss Ayla?" he called happily. "I brought you more work!" He laughed and shook his head. "We're shoving off for a two week patrol down river on Friday. We're going down to New Orleans to help them clean up a bit down there, then heading back up. I figured I'd bring my other uniforms in to get cleaned up. I'm pretty sure I'm not missing any more buttons, but they might need to be ah...let out a little..." He glanced down at his stomach and sighed. He needed to start exercising with the crew again. "Maybe not all of them..." Yeah. He'd spend some of his time on this trip getting back into shape. Or well, more shape. The fact that his pants were getting just a little tight was enough motivation for him. He really tried hard to stay in shape. He needed to be a strong swimmer and one couldn't do that while one's stomach was full of doughnuts...
 
Ayla's head shot up from behind the cabinet door from where she'd been searching in the notions cabinet for a trim to match a dress she was altering. She headed off the other shop girl and hurried over to the counter, frantically waving her away and trying her best not to blush. "Ah, I, eh, have other uniform to give as well, you are leave here. For, eh, to let out, you are try on? I see what is size?" She looked down to his stomach when he did, but quickly brought her gaze back up to his. His stomach and, well, his everything, looked just fine to her. She fiddled with her locket nervously as she waited for his reply.
 
He nodded. "Of course. And thank you." he chuckled. "I honestly forgot I left that one here. I'm glad to hear you have it. I was counting uniforms and I came up short." he chuckled. "I'll be right back." he said, taking one of his uniforms over to the changing room. He changed quickly enough and walked back out. "Does it look tight? It feels tight." he said, walking over to the full length mirror and looking at himself.
 
It certainly was a bit tight. Ayla found herself staring at his rear end before the other shopgirl came up next to her and nudged her forward towards him. She grinned mischievously at Ayla as the girl caught herself and hurried forward, blushing. "I, eh, I measure...for fit..." she said lamely, pulling her tape from around her neck and nervously passing it around his waist, and then his hips. Her paws shook being so close to him, and she dropped the tape more than once as she tried to measure his thigh and inseam. She was flushed and flustered by the time she finished scribbling down his measurements. "Eh, how, uh, how many? To, eh, let out?" she mumbled at her notepad, scared to look at him again.
 
Ayla wasn't the only one who was a bit embarrassed, though Joshua's came from how embarrassed she was being so close to him. He chuckled when she was done and ran his hand over his short hair. "Ah, four." he said, looking down at her. "Is that possible to get done before Thursday afternoon? If not, don't worry. I can get by with only three that fit properly." He smiled at her and walked over to the changing room. "And I might loose the little bit of weight I've put on before the trip is over." he said optimistically as he changed back into the clothes he came in wearing. That morning found him wearing a pair of nice pants, a button-up shirt, suspenders, and a sweater that he was pulling over his head as he walked back out.
 
"Ah, three. In two day, three is, I can do..." she fumbled, writing up the bill for the cleaning, and the order for the alterations. She was quiet for a minute, desperately casting about for some piece of conversation to keep him there a bit longer. "You, eh, you dinner. The one you wear uniform to...is, eh, have good..." She waved her paws about helplessly, struggling with the words she was trying to say. Finally dropping them down to her sides, she gave him a very embarrassed look. Good Lord, he would think she was some sort of babbling simpleton now.
 
He smiled at her. "Yes. It was a very good dinner. I got my award and the food was very nice. I also didn't make a fool of myself, so that is always a plus, yes?" He laughed and leaned on the counter some. "Did you have a nice night as well? Nicer than mine, I'm sure, since you didn't have to go to any fancy dinners...."
 
She shrugged, a bit embarrassed about him asking about her mean circumstances. "Was, eh, quiet. I am only go home and have dinner and sleep. Is not much, ah, excite," she answered with another shrug. "I am happy you are have good time. Glad uniform is looking good for you..."
 
"I'm glad you had a quiet night. My weekend was pretty quiet." He chuckled. "I had a couple days off and just sort of slept on the boat..." He smiled and glanced around to shop some. "So, after Thursday, I'll be gone for two weeks..." he looked at her and smiled brightly. "Can I bring my favorite seamstress back anything from New Orleans?"
 
Ayla looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlamps. She didn't know anything about New Orleans! "Oh, I, eh, do not know...eh, what is, from this city?" At least she hoped it was a city. They wouldn't send a big ship all the way down to the middle of nowhere, would they? "Is, eh, much popular thing from there?"

"Ayla has a huge sweet tooth," piped up the other seamstress, a mischievous look on her face. Whether she was trying to be helpful or embarrass her coworker was up for debate, and really could've been true both ways. "She loves candies and creams, and cute things. But she's not much for flashy stuff like jewellery."

Ayla whirled on her, a look of embarrassment and frustration on her face. But what could she say? It was true. Still blushing a very vibrant pink, she turned back to Joshua and nodded sheepishly.
 
The man's tail wagged happily. "Well, I'll have to bring you back some beignets. They're like...doughnuts but..." He shrugged. "I don't know. They're delicious." He smiled. He should have known she didn't know about New Orleans. He'd have to bring back some postcards, too. And some beads because you can't go to New Orleans and not bring back beads! Plus, they were free, so...it wasn't like he was going to bring her back any flashy jewelry or anything.

"They might be a little stale, but I'll bring you back some. I think they sell the mix for it..."
 
"O-oh...okay..." she agreed shyly. Without really anything else to say, she shuffled the uniforms around, then took them over to her work rack. "I, eh, I have finish for Thursday?" she said, making sure she had the time frame right. "All for cleaning, and two for altering, yes?" She pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear self-consciously. It had taken her a long time to get past not wearing a traditional headscarf, and she usually either wore a cloche or a fashion scarf that didn't fully cover her head. Today she'd worn her hat, meaning while she was inside, her head was uncovered. Usually, it didn't bother her, but today, with him there, she was acutely aware of it. She took a few steps back, trying to extract herself from this awkward conversation, and tripped over the foot of another rack, toppling it and herself to the ground in a loud crash.

Ayla squeaked loudly in surprise, and had barely enough time to get her wits back about her, when the other seamstress was there, setting the rack upright again and making sure that Ayla was uninjured.
 
"Yes, Thursday morning. At least before noon. That gives me enough time to pick them up before running to the ship." He said, standing straight and smoothing down his sweater. When she fell, he rushed around the counter and crouched beside her. "Ayla?" He smiled and took her arm, helping her sit up. "Are you alright?" Good lord, did he truly fluster the girl so much? He gently helped her to her feet, one arm around her back and the other holding her hand. "There..." he smiled and hesitated a moment before letting her go. "If I'm such a distraction, I guess I should leave." he said, a smile on his lips and a teasing tone to his voice. "Only if you're sure you're alright after a fall like that..."
 
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