Swaying Fate

Azalea. I settled back in my seat, frowning, as I stared at the cluster of a mess I created. I had officially wasted three days of my life to make what was an attempted memory blanket for little Xaria. All I ended up doing was creating a crumpled ball of powdery-colored material. My stitching was worse than a three-year-old’s, and I knew there was no way I could salvage this. I fell back in my seat, releasing a dismissal sigh as I stared at it. I wanted to make something special for Lisa and Xaria, and figured a memory blanket would be perfect. So much for that idea. I pulled at my bottom lip, trying to come up with other creative ideas I couldn’t screw up. I was out of ideas. Dante walked into the living room, carrying a large bowl of popcorn and a beer. He paused, his gaze narrowing on my failed attempt. His lips tugged at the corners. “Is that supposed to be a bunny?” I huffed, picking it up and chugging it at him. “It’s supposed to be a memory blanket.” His brows knitted together.