She Who Shops

by Joanne Skerrett

  Weslee sighed again. “OK, Sherry. Thanks.”

  She sat in the dark apartment. She refused to turn on the lights or the TV. The darkness suited her mood perfectly. Then the tears started coming. She was so disappointed. She had been so looking forward to this trip, and he just had to cancel.

  This would never happen to Sherry, she thought. What is her secret? She’s perfectly happy to hang out with her brothers and sisters and her church friends. She puts all her energy into her volunteer work, not to mention her job at the newspaper. She seems happy. But how can she be happy without a man? Maybe it was all an act. Sherry did admit that she got lonely sometimes, but she said that she didn’t dwell on it. She just tried to live as full a life as possible.

  Could I do that? Weslee asked herself. She had never been on her own until the last year or so since Michael had left, and she did not enjoy a single moment of being single. What if Duncan’s firm decided to relocate him to London? What would she do then?

  Why am I doing this to myself? She stretched out on the couch and picked up the remote. There was nothing worth watching on television.

  She looked at the phone. She picked it up.

  “Hey, Sherry?”

  “Yes, girl.”

  “Count me in, OK?”

  “OK, girl. You’re gonna have the time of your life.”

  Yeah. Whatever, Sherry.

  It wouldn’t be the time of her life, but she would be surprised.

  Chapter 18

  Once they had all boarded the bus, it wasn’t so bad, Weslee thought. They were a friendly group, and she had to admit that she was having fun. The bus was one of those fancy coach-style luxury boxes. She watched the movie Brown Sugar as the bus rumbled up Route 93. She had seen it before, but it was fun watching it with these girls. They were just going on and on about Taye Diggs.

  “Nah, he’s just too cute, in a little-brother kind of way,” one of them said.

  “He’s not cute. He’s straight-up fine,” another said.

  “He looks small. You know? Small,” an older lady said.

  “Mmmm, girl, I know what you mean,” said another. They all burst out laughing.

  Weslee laughed, too. She thought it would be all singing gospel music and praying the whole way up to the ski lodge, but these people knew how to have fun.

  Everybody seemed to know and love Sherry. Weslee couldn’t help but compare her to Lana. They were so alike in some ways—outgoing, generous, brutally honest, and judgmental—yet somehow Sherry seemed to carry off those qualities without the underlying nastiness that made Lana so hard to take.

  I do not miss her, Weslee thought. But she wondered how Lana was handling the holiday season. She imagined that if she and Lana had not fallen out, she would probably be at some fancy society New Year’s Eve bash. But it was OK, Weslee surmised. Yes, she could be at some fancy party with rich, influential people, but it would probably have cost her thousands of dollars. She figured that she would have to work for at least six more months to get her finances back to the way they were before she began her spending binge with Lana.

  She checked her cell phone. No, Duncan had not called.

  She noticed that a few of the men on the bus had thrown glances her way, but they were mostly being cautious, it appeared. They were all talking about the Super Bowl. Some of the women had joined them on the other side of the bus. Weslee didn’t care much for football, so she concentrated on the movie.

  She listened to their conversation as Taye Diggs’s screen marriage to Nicole Ari Parker went down the drain.

  The movie was predictable and a little too glossy for her taste. But watching it was better than talking about football.

  By the time the credits were rolling up on the screen, the bus was pulling into the ski lodge area. It was mobbed. Families, couples, groups of teenagers, and senior citizens excitedly walked and looked around the beautiful surroundings. They were all acting as if this were heaven—and it could be if a treacherous, snow-covered mountain was your idea of nirvana. They drove up in SUVs, Subarus, Volvos, Hummers, and a few German luxury cars.

  Weslee had expected that their black group would stand out, and it sure did. This was Vermont, after all. She remembered Duncan’s teasing her when they had driven up to the White Mountains: “You really need to deal with your race hang-ups.”

  She shrugged off the feeling. No one else in their group seemed to be giving a second thought to the lack of color in the crowd, so why should she?

  Sherry was bubbling over as they unlocked the door to their hotel room.

  “Girl, I didn’t want to say anything on the bus, but Larry said he wants us to be exclusive, whatever that means.”

  “What? I thought you had only gone out once.” Weslee was surprised. Sherry had mentioned this Larry character before. He was divorced and a bit older than Sherry, forty to her thirty. He seemed like a nice guy, a little nerdy, Weslee thought when she met him at the church.

  “Yes, but you know how it is. We have these long talks, you know? He really makes me feel special. And he reads the New Yorker.” Sherry looked beseechingly into Weslee’s eyes as if begging for her approval.

  Weslee was touched. She hadn’t realized until now how close she and Sherry had become in such a short time—so close that her opinion would actually matter that much. “Well, as long as he doesn’t get in the way of your training for the marathon. I can’t run that race without you.”

  Sherry groaned. “Girl, I told you. I’m not sure if I’m doing that thing.”

  They threw their overnight bags down on the beds.

  “So, you gonna hit the slopes with Larry?” Weslee teased.

  “Girl, I’m with the group, OK? I’m not here with him.” Sherry blushed.

  “So you say.”

  A few minutes later they were outside and in a sea of colorful ski parkas, hats, scarves, and other snow-related gear. There were families, couples, other groups of young professionals like themselves, and lots of young snowboarders looking for a day of thrills and spills. But everybody seemed to be having fun—and they hadn’t even gotten on the lifts yet.

  Their own group seemed to have splintered off, so Weslee clung to Sherry, Larry, and another sister, Rachel. They joined the line for the lifts.

  “Weslee?” She heard a familiar voice behind her and turned around. “William, my goodness!” She was shocked. There he was, looking like Chris Webber in a royal blue ski suit, with a royally beautiful sister next to him. “What a surprise,” she said. She felt uncomfortable, as if she had promised him something once and never delivered it.

  “What have you been up to?” He smiled that smile of his, and Weslee remembered that night she met him and the couple of hours they had spent at Lana’s folks’ party. She knew why she felt uncomfortable. How could she have let him go?

  “Nothing much, just school and not much else. How about you?” She didn’t want to mention Duncan. For some reason, she felt ashamed of the way she had conveniently swept William out of her life and taken up with his friend.

  “Well, we got a couple of new contracts, so I’m here celebrating. By the way, this is Megan.”

  Weslee shook Megan’s thin, delicate hand and smiled politely. A tinge of jealousy gnawed at her, but she realized she was being silly. William deserved to be happy.

  She quickly introduced Sherry and the others to fill the silence in the air. Then they said their good-byes as she boarded the lift with her group. He stayed behind with Megan. Promised to call her when he got back to Boston. Just to catch up.

  “Girl, where do you find those fine men?” Sherry asked as the lift floated across the mountain.

  “He’s a friend of Duncan’s.” Well, it wasn’t quite that simple, Weslee thought, but it was the easiest way to explain it.

  Weslee couldn’t get William out of her mind the rest of the day. She had skied until she was sore. But up and down the slopes, all she kept seeing was the look on William’s face as he introduced Maria. No, Meg
an. He looked so happy.

  Well, he deserves to be happy, she told herself over and over again, up and down the slopes. I’m happy; he deserves to be happy.

  Larry and Sherry had disappeared, and she used the time alone to work on her skills. She enjoyed the quasi-solitude. There were people around her, noisy and boisterous people, but she didn’t know them and she didn’t try to know them. She just did her own thing.

  This was such a great idea, she told herself. I can’t believe that I actually wanted to stay in that dark little apartment and feel sorry for myself all weekend long.

  That night, back in the room, Sherry couldn’t stop talking about Larry as they prepared for the big New Year’s Eve party back at the lodge. Weslee picked up snippets here and there of Sherry’s one-sided conversation as her mind wandered to Duncan and how he would be spending this New Year’s Eve far away in London.

  She checked her cell phone incessantly throughout the night as people around her danced, drank, and kissed. She couldn’t get a signal this far up in the mountains, but she checked the phone every ten minutes or so anyway. There was a message waiting. She knew it had to be him. But somehow it just wasn’t enough. He wasn’t there. So, against her New Year’s resolution and her still-shaky commitment to not drink anymore, she had a whiskey sour while at least three couples got engaged right before her eyes.

  She had another as she watched Megan and William embrace across the room as the clock counted down to midnight. It was another year, and she was alone.

  Sherry and Larry had been making googly eyes at each other all night but not getting too close. Even when the clock struck midnight, they gave each other a chaste little peck on the lips. Was all the walking on eggshells because the other church members had their eyes trained on the couple’s every move? Weslee didn’t know if she could survive that kind of scrutiny. It seemed that it should be Larry and Sherry’s business if they wanted to be affectionate with one another. But the tension around the table was so thick—as if everyone sensed the chemistry between them and wanted to save them from inevitable sin.

  She was glad to go back to the room. So much cheer and gaiety was starting to make her feel ill. Now all she had to deal with was Sherry’s giddiness. She pretended that she was interested in what Sherry was saying, but she couldn’t stop longing for Duncan and wondering about William. Things must be pretty serious with that woman, she mused, if they’re up here together on New Year’s Eve.

  Maybe it was for the best, Weslee thought, that things hadn’t worked out between William and her. Of course it had been for the best. She loved Duncan. He was the man of her dreams. But William could do a little better than that Megan girl, she thought. She just seemed so flaky. Her voice was high, like she was seventeen years old, and her hair, those awful bangs . . .

  Weslee got under the covers and murmured her uh-huhs and oh, reallys as Sherry went on and on about Larry. She hated herself for pretending to snore just to get Sherry to shut up.

  She couldn’t wait for the sun to come up and to be on her way back to Boston.

  Chapter 19

  It was New Year’s Day. Duncan hadn’t called. The message on her cell phone had been from Terry, who had stayed up late watching Dick Clark.

  “Weswee, it’s Tewee,” her sister said, using their childhood nicknames. “Just wanted to let you know the twins said Happy New Year. I know you’re probably out with that fine Bostonian of yours. Hope you’re having a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oops, I’m sure it’s too late for that.”

  Normally that message would have made her smile, but now it irritated her. She hated everyone, everything. She cleaned her apartment furiously—dusting, vacuuming, sorting, and alphabetizing. She just wanted everything to be in some kind of order.

  Later she lay on the couch, exhausted. He still hadn’t called. She began to worry. Worst-case scenarios went through her mind. Bet Lana knows exactly what he’s up to. But she put that thought out of her mind.

  You are so off his radar!

  She didn’t want to start feeling as if it was over. She knew she was being overly dramatic. Duncan was busy, and she had to learn to deal with that. Michael often missed important days, too. On her twenty-fifth birthday, he had planned a weekend getaway that had fallen through because he just couldn’t get away from the hospital. It goes with the territory, she thought. With men like Duncan, work always came first. She’d just have to get used to it.

  But he could have at least called.

  She had talked to her parents. Her mother, for once, wasn’t very sympathetic. Weslee did tend to always go for the ambitious, driven type, and then she didn’t want to accept what went along with that—that had been the summary of the conversation—no, lecture—from Clara Dunster. Weslee would have to make a choice, her mother had said. Maybe she should try to find herself a man who actually could be there for her all the time.

  The phone rang. She looked at it. She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  “Hello.” She didn’t dare hope.

  “Hey, babe.”

  For some reason, tears sprang to her eyes, but she managed to smile. “Duncan, where’ve you been?” She knew she sounded like a whiny little girl.

  “It’s been the worst New Year’s Eve of my life, Wes. Jackson had this thing at his house, and I did all I could to get away to call you, but I just couldn’t.”

  She was distressed by the sound of his voice. He sounded so tired. “Are you OK? You sound so stressed, honey.” She couldn’t hide her concern.

  “I’m fine. Just a little tired. And I miss you like crazy.”

  “I miss you, too. When are you coming home?”

  “Tuesday. Two more days, then hopefully this will be over. Jackson gives his deposition on Tuesday morning, and I’m flying out Tuesday afternoon.”

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  Suddenly everything was OK. They talked as if nothing had happened. He loved her; she loved him. She was so sure of it. He told her funny stories about Jackson’s party, about London. He promised that he would take her there as soon as things calmed down.

  What was I so worried about? I am so lucky, she thought with a smile an hour later as she hung up the phone.

  That Monday she got up early, still sore from skiing.

  She felt a little remorse for the end of the holiday season as she walked through the city. Oh, the lights. She would miss the way the trees lit up at night along Huntington Avenue. And the huge Christmas tree at Prudential Center. Oh, and the decorations in the store windows. It was January—dreadful, cold, lonely January.

  She walked into HealthyLife Spa, and, as she had expected, it was packed. After a month of gorging themselves on cakes, cookies, turkey, ham, and goodness knows what else, guilt inevitably led people to attempt some form of penance at the gym.

  She had only one client today, a new one who was already waiting as Weslee arrived.

  Weslee introduced herself as she tried to place the familiar-looking face.

  “Hi, there. I know you! I’m Rainee Smalls, Peony’s mom.”

  Peony Smalls. Where had she heard that name before? Oh! Lana’s friend from the Vineyard. Weslee cringed.

  “Hi, Mrs. Smalls, it’s great to see you again. What a coincidence, though.”

  “It is. And please, it’s Rainee. Besides, I haven’t been a missus in ten years.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Weslee said instinctively.

  “I’m not,” Rainee said and laughed loudly. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I thought I’d give it a try. My New Year’s resolution is to lose thirty pounds.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a goal. Well, let me just get some information from you, and we can get started.”

  Weslee prepared herself for vacuous conversation, name-dropping, gossip, and thinly veiled barbs at her humble beginnings, but there was none of that. Rainee Smalls was talkative, but she wanted to know about Weslee. Why she chose Boston, whether she liked it, where she was living, how
she got into personal training, how she managed to balance it all with school and everything.

  “My goodness, you’re quite a remarkable woman,” Rainee said as she gamely perspired through a third set of lat pulldowns.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Weslee laughed. “I do what I have to do.”

  “But you seem to have done very well for yourself. When I was your age, I had never held a job even though I had gone to college. I depended on my husband for everything. When he left ten years ago, I was hospitalized for depression for almost a year, that’s how lost I was.”

  Weslee felt uncomfortable at this stranger volunteering all this information to her.

  “My two girls, Peony and Blossom, were both away at school. I didn’t know what to do. It took me a long time to get my head straight. I’m still getting my head straight.” Rainee laughed again. “I just love to see young women like you who have it so together. You know? You’re not spending your family’s money or waiting for a man to give you an allowance. You know what I mean?”

  Weslee nodded. Was that a reference to Lana? she wondered.

  Rainee’s words made her realize how small a world some people lived in. What Rainee was describing was most of the women she had known at work, at her church in Chicago, at her new church in Boston, the women in her classes, and Sherry. She wasn’t remarkable. What was remarkable was that Rainee thought that she was somehow different because she was living the way most women did in the twenty-first century.

  “Whew!” Rainee said as the hour came to an end. “I can already feel those pounds dropping off.”

  Weslee laughed. “Good. I’ll see you next week?”

  “Absolutely,” the woman said. “I’m going to have to tell all my friends about you.”

  Weslee hurried for her appointment at Olive’s. Sherry had recommended the salon. It was expensive, but it certainly wasn’t as pricey as the one she formerly went to on the advice of Lana. And the stylists were certainly more down to earth. She ran a hand through her hair. She badly needed a touch-up. She decided to splurge and get herself a facial and manicure. Rainee had tipped well. She decided she would go shopping for a new outfit, too. Duncan is probably going to want to go out, she thought.