I Remember Nothing, But I Have Four Husbands

Towns were lively places since immemorial times, and Basin Town was no exception to that statement. From Yellow Leaf village, Basin Town was almost two hours away on foot, or even less if one walked fast and was used to the distance. For fragile (useless) people like Isabelle who sweated with a mere five-minute walk, there was the not-comfortable ride by donkey cart that lasted a bit more than one hour.

More than one hour of feeling her butt splitting in half!

The thought that they had to return on the same thrice damn cart made Isabelle pale and desire she was dead. The ride was so bad that she was seriously considering walking back. Who cared if Ethan and her returned late at night! As long as she could still keep her butt intact and functional, then she would even start running!

"You ok?" Ethan worriedly asked, seeing her suffering countenance.

"Very fine." Isabelle replied, gritting her teeth as she pounded her lower back right after they climbed down the cart.

Ethan waited for her to rest as long as she needed before speaking again. "Come, I'll take ya to the shop first. When you're done, come look for me at Son&Son Carpentry." Smoothly grabbing her hand, he led Isabelle through the already boisterous streets.

Peddlers were yelling their wares. Customers were walking here and there, shopping this and that. A few humble shops were selling hot food for breakfast, filling the street in mouthwatering smells, and people ordering the food to eat on the road; there were many who ate as they walked. It was a very busy sight.

There was a school in Basin Town as there were fathers and mothers hand-in-hand with their kids who carried a bag that most likely held their books.

Glancing at Ethan, Isabelle reckoned he would have looked like those kids many years ago if his parents were still alive. But there were no ifs in life. And having his parents alive would not have guaranteed his attendance to school. After all, they had been poor back at that time, too. Perhaps his parents would have made a big sacrifice to send him to school.

However, with such a penurious situation, would Ethan have the heart to continue studying? Or, would he have hardened his heart to finish his studies and then improve his family's situation after graduating? Either way, those were just speculations; their reality was another.

After walking through quite a few streets, the two arrived at the embroidery shop that was looking for new people. Ethan did not stop to enter as he only dropped her in front of the shop and ran into the throng of people, quickly disappearing in it. He was definitely running late for his job.

She felt bad as it had been her aches and pains from that ride that delayed him. She would have to compensate him for that.

With a decision made, she took a deep breath and entered the establishment. A bell rang the moment she opened the door, and the noisiness from outside got insulated as soon as she closed it. It was as if she entered another world. The world of threads and delicate designs by the looks of it. There were a few handkerchiefs, pillow cases, curtains, and even embroidered clothes on display in the shop.

"Hello?" Isabelle called out after she perused the shop a couple of minutes had passed with no one to receive or attend her.

If I were a customer, I would not patronize this embroidery shop.

Finally, when she called out for the fifth time, someone's footsteps sounded. A plump middle-aged woman appeared from behind the curtain that divided the storefront with the back. "Hi, welcome, sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Mrs. Priddy, how may I help you?" The woman amiably smiled, though not a hint of apology showed in her countenance.

Isabelle blinked, amazed at such a character but carried on with her task. "A man came yesterday showing you a handkerchief, and you wanted to interview me..."

"Oh! Yes! So, you must be Mrs. Edris, the one who made that handkerchief!" Mrs. Priddy jumped in delighted surprise.

Isabelle blinked yet again. Mrs. Edris who? Who was that? Was Mrs. Priddy making a mistake? Or was she truly talking about Isabelle? Though, since when did she have a surname? More like, whose surname was that? Could it be…?

My, Ethan really wanted to make this a running matter.

To know they really wanted to make her stay in their house was heartwarming.

"Oh my! You also did that embroidery in your blouse?" Mrs. Priddy interrupted her thoughts.

Putting aside the surname thing, there was a reason she wore the only embroidered blouse she had that day: to promote her craft. The handkerchief she made would forever remain in Ethan's hands as he looked very reluctant to part with it when she asked him about it.

"That is right. The thread was a bit on the low-quality side, but I still tried my best." Mrs. Priddy was an expert as she nodded, agreeing that the thread was a bit lacking, but she looked very satisfied with what Isabelle did with that lacking thread.

"I still would like for you to take a test if it's no problem." Mrs. Priddy said, scrupulously looking at the younger woman.

Isabelle paused. A test? Of course, she had no problems with taking a test. It was just a bit strange. Was her work not enough? Though, it also made sense as nothing assured Mrs. Priddy that the embroidery was truly made by Isabelle. And well, Isabelle needed to make money, so it would be nice if the older woman employed her as soon as possible.

Past the curtain, the two went up two flights of stairs, down a hallway and into a room that had long tables, spools of various types of thread, and of course fabrics cut in perfect squares. "This is the sample. Use only these colors and this type of thread. You can begin." Mrs. Priddy quickly pointed out and went to sit down at another table inside the room to continue with whatever she was doing.

The sample was a simple white handkerchief with colorful flowers in a corner and a name in the other. It looked like a personalized handkerchief. It was obvious that was why the older woman asked for a test. She was actually looking for someone who could do an order. It was a bit underhanded of her, yet Isabelle could only start working.

That was the fate of those with no money and desperate to get some. They had to accept anything from their employers.

With that mentality, Isabelle looked at the threads and decided to use a mix of yellow colors for the flowers, green for the stems and leaves, and a pastel yellow for the name to not obstruct the flower design. Finally, she used white thread around the edges to make it more presentable. Despite the tedious process of changing threads, she did it relatively quickly.

"I am done." She announced at Mrs. Priddy who had been embroidering some pillow cases.

The older woman looked up and blinked to focus on Isabelle. "Let me see." She stretched her hand. Handkerchief in hand, she started inspecting it and nodding along. "The stitches aren't so complicated, but they somehow enhance the finesse of the flowers making them look more delicate than they normally are without bordering on life-like. You are very good at embroidering flowers."

"Thank you." Isabelle humbly accepted the praise. It was mere coincidence she discovered she was good at embroidering after becoming an amnesiac. What she could or could not embroider still remained a mystery.

"You might have noticed that these are personalized handkerchiefs," Mrs. Priddy sighed and went on to share the story behind the order. "The truth is that we need to make one hundred of these in a week for an urgent order from one of our most important clients. The young lady I wanted to put in charge of this order quit a few days ago because another embroidery shop offered her a higher salary."

Isabelle guessed the first, while the thing about the young lady quitting was unnecessary, but she still nodded to let the other know she was attentively listening.

"She was ambitious but only mildly talented; that's why, apart from the base salary she received here, her commissions were a bit on the low side as her technique was somewhat lacking and I was afraid to give her more complicated orders. I wanted to trust her with this urgent order, but before I could, she packed up and left."

A boss that gossiped behind an ex-employee's back to another possibly future employee… Lovely. Isabelle woodenly smiled and chanted in her mind that she was doing it for the money. It is all for the money! M.O.N.E.Y!

"I approve of your talent and place my trust in you, Mrs. Edris. The question is if you want to take up this challenge as your first job. I can provide you with the fabric and thread, though that will be discounted from your commission." A bit too gossipy to Isabelle's liking, but when it came to business, Mrs. Priddy seemed fair.

"From the 50 coins being paid for this order, 5 will be discounted for the materials, plus the 30% the shop normally takes from each order. It's the same for all employees, so don't think you are being discriminated for being new. The important thing here is the quality of your job, and how many orders you take to increase your commissions so you can add to your 10-coins monthly salary."

The deal was very tempting.

In summary, if Isabelle was employed by the shop, she would receive a base salary. However, the real money-making deal in the embroidery business were the orders she could be entrusted with. The more orders she took, the more commission she could pocket.

With the urgent handkerchief order, out of the 50 coins the client was paying, 5 were being discounted for the materials, like the fabric, needles, and thread; and 15 for the 30% the shop takes as the right to use the shop's name to promote a person's crafts. Embroidery shops were mostly a niche to discover talents and promote oneself; which was optimal for her situation as she had a plan.

She wanted to get clients to create her own portfolio. Like that, even if she ever left the shop in the future, those clients would personally look for her to make pieces of embroidery. It was not that she was looking for troubles with the shop, yet her intuition told her not to get too involved with it. If everything went well, then it would become her stepping stone. If not…

Anyway, although the order was a bit hurried, Isabelle considered herself capable of finishing it on time. No. She had to make it on time for the sake of those coins. 30 coins sounded like a lot of money! She thought so even when she actually had no idea what the prices in the market were. But she supposed 30 coins were better than nothing. She would have to ask Ethan about it.

"Deal!" Isabelle nodded, accepting the terms and the urgent order. Mrs. Priddy smiled and walked out of the room. Soon, she came back with a contract in hand. That was an oversight on Isabelle's part! Could she… Never mind, she could perfectly understand what the contract entailed. And after making sure it was all clear and nothing shady was added, she signed her name.

Isabelle Edris.

The name was a huge step she took into her new life. She felt the immensity of it as she started working on the handkerchiefs right then and there in the quiet atmosphere of the shop. A job she got because she wanted to provide yet another source of income for the family she was part of.

Finishing the fifth handkerchief, Mrs. Priddy told Isabelle to take a lunch break. She took the whole morning to make five handkerchiefs! Unsure if that was fast or not, she relaxed, feeling all her tensed muscles loosening up and hurting. She pounded her sore back and shoulders as she walked out the shop. Ethan carried their food, so she had to go look for the carpentry he worked at.

Son&Son, or something like that he said.