The message was not lost on Weslee. She’d been blind to everything but her own here and now for a long time. That route had been smooth and trouble free for the most part. Much like she imagined Holly thought her own life had been, married to a man who loved and spoiled her, until the deadly betrayal. That ugliness stuck to Weslee’s skin like a leech for the remainder of the day, and it wouldn’t leave her. The thought of Holly lying in that bed, so emaciated and helpless—at age thirty-two. Sherry had a point. She’d been closing her eyes to the ugliness right in front of her for way too long. There had to be some good to come out this, she thought. There had to be.
Chapter 23
The weather was surprising everyone. Spring was managing to sustain itself before April proper. The air was cool and hospitable to living things human and nonhuman. Brave women wore sandals to work, and some men dared to leave their spring raincoats at home. The city was beginning to come out of its thaw. Piles of hardened, dirty snow melted, leaving long lines of water weaving across sidewalks and into storm drains. People were friendlier. The streets seemed cleaner. A feeling of well-being was in the air.
As for Weslee, it wasn’t that she was more hopeful. It was that she was feeling less hopeless. She was beginning to put some distance between her and that woman who had fallen headfirst and fast for that dashing, complicated man who had, it seemed, vanished from her life as suddenly as he had appeared in it.
Spring break came and went. Lana had proclaimed loudly, within earshot of Weslee, that she was headed off to St. Bart’s for the week. Weslee did the math in her head. Boy, was she glad that she didn’t have a five-thousand-dollar vacation to brag about. Instead, she had taken the week to get her last training run in for the marathon and to work full time at HealthyLife. Duncan was still in her thoughts, but she was sleeping normally again, tired from her full days. She was busy, and it felt good.
Since that Sunday at the hospital, she couldn’t seem to get Holly out of her mind. She visited her—just once more, she had told herself. Then it turned into once every week. Some days were harder than others. She saw Holly at her worst, when the pain made her angry and spiteful and abusive. But Weslee would stand there and let Holly scream at her to leave her alone and would then hold her while she wept and apologized. On other days, when all Holly felt was weak, they would sit and talk and watch movies. Weslee had made yet another friend.
“Girl, I think we must have been sisters in another life,” Holly would say when they would find out that they had one other thing in common. Holly, too, loved to cook and had run track in high school. She was full of advice on her good days.
“Wes, why don’t you change your hair a bit?” she had said once. “I think you’d look good with it shorter. It’s just hanging there now.”
“But I thought long hair was in,” Weslee had protested.
“Nuh-uh. You need to show off your pretty face more.”
Weslee laughed. It was the first time anyone had called her pretty in a long, long time.
She smiled again as she entered HealthyLife. She expected it to be an easy day. She had only one client: her regular, Rainee Smalls. Then she would head off to her late class and then meet Sherry for dinner.
Rainee seemed to be in a strange mood. She was not her usual talkative self.
“Is everything OK?” Weslee asked.
Rainee sighed. “Weslee, what is going on between you and Lana?”
Weslee cleared her throat. The two of them had seldom talked about Lana. Weslee assumed that Rainee thought that they were still friends.
“Um. We just had a disagreement. We’re very different, you know? We just aren’t real close anymore. That’s all.”
Rainee sighed again. “You’re sure that’s all?”
Weslee paused. “Yes. Why. Is there more?”
Rainee spoke as if she were choosing her words with extreme caution. “Well, it seems that she is very upset with you, from what my daughter tells me. She is saying a lot of things that, frankly, I find really hard to believe.”
Weslee’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped demonstrating the bicep curl that she wanted Rainee to perform. “Things like what?”
Rainee looked uncomfortable. “I’m not going to get into it. It’s really childish. And you don’t have to worry. Lana has a reputation among all of us. Her parents really spoiled her. You know she’s their only one.”
But Weslee would not be deterred. “What kinds of things is she saying about me?”
Rainee sighed. “Honey, it doesn’t matter. Your work and your honesty speak for themselves. Actually, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. But I thought you knew what was going on.”
Weslee decided not to push further. Rainee was her best client. Because of her, she had seven other high-tipping clients who were begging for her services. She gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t Lana just leave her alone? What could Lana possibly be saying about her?
She wanted to leave at that instant and march over to Lana’s place and confront her. But what good would that do? She didn’t want to face that terrifying rage that was so constantly near Lana’s surface. A part of her suspected that this was Lana’s goal: to get a rise out of her and to spark another showdown. Well, I won’t give her the satisfaction, Weslee thought.
Weslee was beginning to see what was so obvious to the other people who’d known Lana for a long time. The girl was desperately insecure and angry at the world, yet she was able to hide this with her perfect looks, beautiful clothes, and other material trappings. Those things made her seem attractive, fun, and worth knowing . . . until you got a little closer. Weslee was grim as she remembered her initial misgivings about Lana. Those same misgivings she’d ignored to give Lana the benefit of the doubt and to try to be a friend to her despite all of the veiled insults and subtle put-downs.
Now she’s trying to ruin my reputation. Weslee sighed. Why did I ever get mixed up with that girl? Was my common sense taking a sick day? She stopped herself. She wouldn’t take the blame for this. So she’d made an error in judgment. But the problem was fixing itself. She was moving on. Same way she was moving on from Duncan. Let Lana talk all she wants, Weslee thought. I’m not looking back.
Chapter 24
It was the day before the marathon, a sunny April Sunday, and Weslee was jumpy and nervous. She wanted to do something to clear her mind. Sherry suggested golf. Weslee had always wanted to take a lesson but had never got around to it.
The Franklin Park golf course in Dorchester was nearly in Sherry’s backyard, so off they went after church.
“Now, Sherry, you have to be patient with me, OK? My hand-eye coordination is terrible,” Weslee fretted.
“You don’t need hand-eye coordination. Where did you hear that?”
Sherry was bubbling over. She and Larry were definitely an item now, and every other word out of her mouth was Larry. Weslee tried to contain her jealousy. She missed Duncan so much now. She had gotten over the anger she had felt initially. Now she just felt lonely. She so wanted to be wholeheartedly happy for Sherry, but her heart just wasn’t big enough.
“The last time Larry and I came here, I showed him a thing or two. I’m so glad that man is not a sore loser, ’cause I can’t lose, girl. I can’t,” Sherry bragged as they approached the clubhouse.
Weslee knew nothing about golf courses, but this one seemed pretty nice. She was surprised at how beautiful the park itself was. And to think that it was in the middle of the hood! There was a two-and-a-half mile running trail around the golf course that she knew she had to try running sometime, plus the Franklin Park Zoo was just across the street. It was one of the most beautiful parts of Boston she had seen yet. And it was in the hood. She just felt so proud of that fact.
The old men in the clubhouse treated Sherry as if she was a regular. A regular daughter or granddaughter. She called them by their names as they teased her about her handicap.
“These guys are the best. They’re all retired, you know. They just c
ome here every day to hang out. What a life, huh?”
“I bet,” Weslee answered. They made their way over to the driving range; Weslee dragging a bag of rented clubs, Sherry with her own set.
“OK, how do we start?” Weslee asked.
“How do we start? Girl, you got a lot of things to learn.” Sherry laughed.
“Well, that’s why I’m here now, OK?” Weslee looked dismayed.
Sherry touched her shoulder. “I’m just playing with you. At least you’re not home thinking about Duncan.”
Well, not really.
“Yes, Sherry. At least I’m not home thinking about him. And tomorrow, I’m running the Boston Marathon, and I won’t be thinking about him then, either.”
“Well, all right then. Let’s hit some balls.”
A couple of hours later, the sun was setting. Weslee, exhausted by her pathetic and unsuccessful attempts at golf, put up her hands in surrender.
“Sherry, I wanna quit, this isn’t working,” she said.
“Fine. Fine. I’m tired of your complaining. Why don’t you go on to the hospital and I’ll meet you there.”
Weslee, relieved, walked back to the clubhouse and surrendered her clubs. Then she walked the mile from the clubhouse to the hospital, taking in all the wild, bright colors that the orange sun had laid out across the sky. She hoped Holly had been having a good day. She hadn’t been doing too well lately.
She waved hello to the volunteers at the front desk and took the elevator to Holly’s ward.
“Weslee, child.” Miriam waddled from behind the nurses’ station as she saw Weslee approaching.
Weslee could tell from the look on her face what had happened.
“She die last night, child. She die,” Miriam said, dropping her head as Weslee began to sob.
“Don’t cry, child. Don’t cry. She’s in a better place.” Miriam pulled Weslee close and patted her back as Weslee continued to sob.
“Where is she?” Weslee asked when she could take a breath from the grief that overwhelmed her being.
“They took her away. She’s downstairs. Don’t go see her by yourself. Wait for your friend.”
Weslee nodded and sat at the nurses’ station as Miriam went to fetch her water.
She could hear Sherry’s footsteps coming up the hall.
“What’s wrong?” Sherry said as she looked at Weslee’s tear-stained face.
“Holly died last night.”
Sherry bit her lip and tried to hold back her tears. “How are you?” she asked.
Weslee shook her head and began to sob again.
Sherry walked around the desk and held her. “I’m sorry, Weslee. I shouldn’t have let you meet her now, with everything you were going through. I didn’t think she would go this soon. This is my fault.”
Weslee looked at Sherry through her tears. “What are you talking about? I’m not sorry I met her. I just . . . She was just so right about me. I’m so naïve. I actually thought that if I went to see her, if I spent more time with her, that maybe she would live longer. I thought I could make a difference for her. I wanted . . .”
“Weslee, you did make a difference for her. She had nobody before we came. Before you came. You were the last friend she had in the world,” Sherry said.
Weslee nodded. Miriam handed her a glass of water.
“It’s OK, child. She used to look for you all the time. She was really happy that you had started to come and see her,” Miriam said. “She was a good child. A good child.” Miriam sighed.
Later, Weslee stood whimpering outside the morgue as Sherry sprang into action. Her fingers moved swiftly and efficiently as she called the funeral home that had handled her mother’s funeral.
“What are you doing?” Weslee mouthed as Sherry spoke into the cell phone.
“I’m not gonna let the state just bury her out there with the rest of the nobodies. Holly had friends, OK? She’s gonna go out with a little dignity.” Sherry was pushing more numbers, this time calling a florist.
Weslee could only watch in amazement. “What can I do to help? I have some money. I can make calls, too,” Weslee said.
“OK. Call the church and ask for Pastor Bob, and then call Fairview Cemetery.”
I can’t believe I’m actually planning a funeral, Weslee thought as she made the calls. But all the planning and activity made her feel better. It chipped away at the cement block that had been sitting heavily on her heart since she’d heard about Holly’s death.
“Know what, Sherry?” she asked as they took a break from their tasks. “I’ll pay for it. I feel . . . I need to. Know what I mean?”
Sherry looked at her intently. “Wes, are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely sure,” Weslee said firmly. “I’m doing this more for me than I am for Holly.” She thought that it was the best investment in herself she could make after the months of throwing away her money on the frivolous and ephemeral. Holly had given her something that was much more valuable and that would outlast the most classic fashions.
Sherry nodded. “I’m glad you can see that.”
Chapter 25
The ring of the phone assaulted Weslee’s aching head. She grabbed it before the second ring. She looked at the clock—it was already ten P.M. She had run to her bed the minute she got home from the hospital. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone in the world, but she picked up the phone anyway.
It was Koji.
“Koji, don’t tell me I forgot to turn in my part of the project,” Weslee groaned at the sound of the Japanese student’s voice on the other end.
“Weslee, did you hear about Lana?”
“No, what about Lana?”
“She had a really bad accident early this morning. She’s in the hospital. Brigham and Women’s Hospital.”
The fog in Weslee’s head suddenly cleared up. She threw on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and a baseball cap and rushed out the door.
Luckily she didn’t have to wait long for a trolley. She hadn’t bothered to ask Koji what had happened. There was no need to explain why and how Lana had ended up driving her Mercedes into a tree at three A.M. on a Sunday morning.
Eleanor was asleep in a chair at Lana’s bedside, and the resemblance between mother and daughter forced Weslee to stop and look at the two for a few seconds.
Lana looked normal, as if she were sleeping and not heavily sedated after six hours of surgery. According to the nurse, most of her injuries had been internal, except for a broken leg.
Eleanor stirred just as Weslee was deciding to leave.
“Weslee,” Lana’s mother said groggily.
“Hi, Eleanor.”
They hugged and Eleanor held Weslee tightly.
“I almost lost her. I almost lost my little girl.” She was crying.
“Eleanor, I’m so sorry.”
“Do you know what happened? Why weren’t you with her?”
“Eleanor, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Eleanor was sobbing now. “We tried so hard, you know. She was in rehab two, three times, a few years ago. She was doing so well. She didn’t have a single drink over the holidays. . . .”
Weslee didn’t know what to say. Lana had never told her that she had been in rehabilitation or had been treated for alcohol abuse. And obviously Eleanor did not know that Lana had been drinking a lot, a whole lot, over the last year. Lana had fooled the people who were closest to her.
“Eleanor, at least she’s safe. The nurse out front said she’s going to be OK.” Weslee wasn’t sure that her words were of any use.
Eleanor sat in the chair again, wringing a tissue in her hands.
Weslee tried to find the right words. She remained silent.
“Her father’s so angry with her for lying to us again.” Eleanor resumed her weeping. “She’s going to pull through. She has to. Then I’m taking her back to New York to stay with me. I thought she could be on her own, but I was so wrong.” Eleanor sniffed, then blew her nose.
Weslee put her
arm on Eleanor’s shaking shoulders.
“You know, you were the first best friend she’s ever had. She told me that. That time you came to Oak Bluffs. She said you were the first real girlfriend she ever had. She liked you so much. She said you were so smart. She said you’re the only person she’s ever known who never makes any mistakes.”
The guilt washed over Weslee like a tidal wave. She had been hating Lana so much lately. No one would tell her the extent of the gossip that Lana had been spreading. But she had heard from Marie Bunting and a couple of other clients that Lana had branded her a desperate social climber. Lana had even tried to persuade a couple of her clients not to see her anymore. That news had made Weslee so angry and ashamed, she had told no one, not even Sherry. She had made a vow to herself to never speak to Lana again. But when Koji’s call came, her instinct made her come to this hospital room. And now Eleanor was telling her something different.
She thought I was the best girlfriend she’s ever had?
The nurse entered the room. They had to leave. Eleanor said she would hang around the hospital until they let her back in the room. Weslee promised to return as soon as Lana was awake.
Weslee decided to walk home from Brigham and Women’s Hospital. She pulled her baseball cap far down on her forehead as she walked down Huntington Avenue. She walked slowly, breathing the air deeply.
How could this happen, she asked herself. In one day, Holly had died and Lana was in a hospital bed clinging to life. What was going on? Weslee felt afraid. Death and the threat of it had never touched her life since she lost her grandmother when she was ten years old. She had been so terrified then that her parents had allowed her to stay with a babysitter while they attended the funeral.
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