She Who Shops

by Joanne Skerrett

  It was early evening, and Weslee was glad to have the apartment all to herself. Sherry was covering a story in New York. That gave Weslee a full two days to herself. She only had three clients to see. The August heat was making her customers reluctant to exert themselves. But it really was OK. She sat with her laptop, looking at the spreadsheet of her finances. She would need about three thousand dollars to get her savings back to the level she wanted. Somehow looking at the numbers didn’t stress her as much as it had in the past. She was proud of what she had accomplished in the last few months. She thought of Rainee Smalls beaming as person after person told her how great she looked now fifteen pounds lighter. She thought of Marie Bunting flexing her biceps—and smiling. And the other women she worked with getting stronger, happier, and more confident because of the work they had done with her.

  Maybe William was right. She could see herself doing this for a living. Watching and writing about mutual funds had never given her this kind of satisfaction. The numbers in her portfolio, she now realized, were empty movable entities. She had lost when the market tanked, then gained a bit, then lost again when she temporarily lost her mind and spent fifty thousand dollars on designer clothes and parties. Now she had her mind back, and she was going to use it.

  She began to write an e-mail to the professor of the Entrepreneurship class. She needed some professional advice.

  Roy Hargrove’s cover of “The Nearness of You” blared on the stereo as Weslee soaked in the bathtub. It was one of her favorite songs. She was sore from running four laps around the 2.5-mile trail in Franklin Park. She was halfway through Paul Theroux’s Mosquito Coast, which she had started on the ferry to Oak Bluffs weeks ago. Her plan was to read all of Theroux’s books before the start of the fall semester. She had one left, My Other Life, after Mosquito. She could hear her cell phone chiming in the bedroom; probably one of her clients, she thought. They always called at the most inopportune times to change or make appointments. She ignored it.

  Twenty minutes later she came out of the tub and contemplated making a huge Greek salad for dinner. As she searched through Sherry’s overfull refrigerator, her cell phone rang again.

  “Aaargh!” she said as she went to get the phone.

  “Hello, Weslee,” said the deep, slightly hoarse voice, making her heart leap skyward.

  She swallowed.

  “Weslee, are you there?” the voice said again.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “How are you?” Duncan asked, sounding at ease, as if nothing had happened between the two of them.

  “How can I help you, Duncan?” Weslee asked, anger starting to rise in her chest as she remembered the way he misled and lied to her.

  He sighed. “I just wanted to know how you were doing. And I wanted to apologize and maybe talk.”

  “Talk about what?” she hissed.

  “About what happened. I feel that I need to explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. You’re marrying someone else. That’s pretty clear to me.”

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. She detected the irritation in his voice.

  “It’s not? Why is that? Is she pregnant? Or is someone holding a gun to your head?”

  She could almost see him clenching his teeth. “You don’t understand. And there’s no need for this sarcasm.”

  “Don’t tell me what there’s a need for—”

  He interrupted her. “Obviously, you’re still angry. I shouldn’t have called. Good-bye.”

  He hung up before she could say anything.

  Her plans for her salad upset, Weslee stalked to the stereo and turned it off. The mood was ruined. How dare he call her and still sound so smug and self-assured? she thought. What made him think that she was interested in his apology or that it could actually make a difference to her?

  She called Sherry’s hotel room in New York, but Sherry was not in. She called her sister, Terry, who listened sympathetically to her rant.

  “Sis, maybe you should have given him a chance to say what he was going to say,” Terry said gently.

  “And then what, Terry? He’ll end up being the good guy? He’s just trying to ease his guilty conscience. That’s all.”

  Terry sighed. “Well, you know him better than I do. But if he wants to say he’s sorry for what happened, that’s not a bad thing.”

  Weslee was not any more convinced when she ended the conversation with her sister. No one would understand how he had hurt her, made her think that they had something so special. She was so glad he was finally out of her life, and now he wanted to con his way back in. How dare he?

  William was at his parents’ home in Randolph, and Weslee was nervous about calling him there, but she just had to hear his voice.

  “Hello.” A woman’s voice with a Jamaican accent answered the phone.

  Weslee asked for William.

  “Yes. Who’s calling, please?”

  “It’s Weslee Dunster.”

  “Oh, he told us about you. How are you? I’m his mom.”

  She didn’t know he had mentioned her to his family.

  “I’m fine,” she said, making small talk with William’s mother for a minute before the woman went to get him.

  She held, trying to pick up some sense of the loud conversations in the background. Apparently, there was a large family gathering in progress.

  “Hey, Weslee.” William came to the phone sounding jovial.

  “Hey, you. Did I interrupt a family thing?”

  “No. No. My folks always have people over to the house.”

  She was so happy to hear his voice, she pulled the phone close to her ear as if willing him to be close to her. The sound of his voice warmed her, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging herself with her arms. She knew she was about to take a risk, but she felt ready.

  “William, can you come over?”

  He didn’t reply immediately, and Weslee’s heart began to fall.

  “Is everything OK?” he asked.

  “Yes. But . . . I just want to see you.”

  “Uh. OK, sure. Are you sure everything’s OK?” He sounded unsure and a little concerned.

  “Everything is fine. I just want to see you. I mean, talk to you.”

  “OK. Give me about forty minutes.”

  When William walked in the door, Weslee did all she could from telling him right there and then that she was in love with him and wanted to be his. Instead, she offered him a drink.

  “Are you sure everything’s all right?” He looked at her intently as she settled next to him on the couch.

  “I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you thanks.” She was losing her nerve.

  “Thanks for what?” He sipped from his glass.

  “Just for being so understanding about everything. I’m really glad I met you that night.”

  He began to smile, but she could see confusion in his eyes. “Where’s all this coming from?”

  “I’ve had time to think about the mistakes that I’ve made, and I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea of what’s going on now.”

  He put his glass down and faced her. She could feel her heart pounding. She could tell from his eyes that he knew what she was trying to say but couldn’t, and she didn’t like the answer his eyes gave hers.

  He sighed. “Look, Weslee. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think we should move too fast. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I can’t say that I’m sure that you or I are ready for something serious.”

  “What do you mean?” she said weakly, her heart breaking.

  “I just don’t think you’re ready. You’re not really over Duncan yet. And I don’t want to confuse things further by pushing things with us. If it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

  “But William, you’re wrong. What I feel for you is real. It was real the first time we talked.”

  “But you chose him, remember?” he said gently.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Listen, Weslee. It’s O
K. I want you in my life. But I think we just need to take things slow for now.” He stood up to leave. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “You’re wrong, William.” She stood and faced him. Tears pricked at her eyes as he turned away and walked out the door.

  He was wrong, wrong, wrong. She was over Duncan, and she was in love with him. How could he not see that? Why was everything going so wrong tonight?

  She tried Sherry’s hotel room in New York again. No answer. Was there no one in the world who could make her feel better?

  Chapter 44

  It had been a mistake to think that she could walk the two miles from Copley Square to Downtown Crossing in the soupy ninety-degree weather. She could see the Ritz Residences a few yards away, but it seemed like miles. Bad decision, walking, she thought. Her tank top was sticking to her back, and her gym bag seemed heavier with every step she took. By the time she made it into the building, she could feel sweat trickling down the insides of her legs. The cool air that licked at her face when she walked in the building felt like a reward.

  She took the elevator down to the gym, the city’s most luxurious and exclusive. It catered only to guests of the Ritz or residents of its million-dollar condominiums. Her client, Younis Pratha, was another of Rainee’s friends, a scientist and professor at MIT. When they had made the appointment, Younis couldn’t decide whether to hold the session at the sprawling farm she and her husband owned in Carlisle, Massachusetts, or whether she would remain in the city at their two-bedroom condo on the top floor of the Ritz Residences, overlooking the Boston Common. Weslee, her own interests at heart, asked Younis to pick the condo.

  It was Weslee’s first time in the gym, and it took her breath away. She thought of William’s words just weeks ago. “Maybe someday you’ll run your own health club.” Weslee sighed. She could definitely see herself running a high-end place like this.

  Well-toned women and muscular women exercised on the treadmills, StairMasters, and weight machines. Elegant-looking staff members unobtrusively catered to their every need, from extra towels to bringing them bottles of Perrier. She could smell the relaxing aromatherapy coming from the hallway that led to the spa. Oh, Weslee could definitely see herself running a place like this someday.

  It was not hard to spot Younis Pratha. She was wearing a bright orange lycra unitard that revealed too much of her softening body. Weslee could hear her lovely South Indian accent as she spoke to a tall young man. Younis was always very vivacious and flamboyant, from what Weslee had gathered from Rainee.

  Weslee was not disappointed. Younis Pratha greeted her warmly, kissing her on both cheeks as she introduced herself. The young man she was talking with walked away, and Weslee immediately began the session.

  Younis was energetic, and she moved quickly, allowing Weslee to challenge her.

  “Wow, this is fun!” Younis exclaimed. She asked Weslee about herself, her career, and her family as they worked. She was impressed that Weslee would soon be an MBA.

  “So I guess you plan to go into business for yourself ?” Younis asked. “Something fitness oriented?”

  Weslee laughed. “It’s an idea that I’m just playing with. I’ll probably go straight to an investment bank after graduation.”

  “That’s not too bad. But it’s great that you have another option. My husband is a CFO at one of those banks, and I’d hate to have to do what he did to get to where he is now, all those long days and nights, too, at the office. All these years he’s wanted to open an Indian restaurant. He’s a great cook, by the way.” Younis smiled. “But he’s been waiting for the right time, to get enough investors, to get the children out of the house. My youngest has been out of the house for five years, and still nothing.”

  Weslee nodded. It seemed that she was hearing the same drumbeat from everyone.

  “Well, I’m not one to tell a smart young lady like you how to run your life. So, anyway, will you be at the big wedding?”

  “What big wedding?” Weslee asked.

  “The Jarrets’ daughter?”

  Weslee’s heart fell.

  “Probably not. I don’t know them at all.”

  “Really? I thought you were good friends with Lana. She’s one of the bridesmaids.”

  Those words hit Weslee like an electric shock. Lana would be a bridesmaid in Duncan’s wedding?

  “Are you sure?” she asked Younis.

  “Yes. Why, did she change her mind?”

  “Oh, no. I’m sure she didn’t.”

  “Yes, I saw her last night at Marie Bunting’s little dinner party. I was hoping you’d be there so I could meet you.”

  “Uh . . . I had a previous engagement,” Weslee lied. Truth was, Marie had not invited her.

  “Well, Lana seems to be all excited about the wedding. She herself is so in love with Jeffrey Knight. I think they might be next. He’s a cutie, isn’t he?”

  Weslee nodded, trying to smile. She rushed through the rest of the hour while Younis prattled on about this person or the other’s dinner party or vacation home. Weslee felt slightly betrayed by Lana. But she couldn’t say that she was shocked.

  Sherry was home when Weslee dejectedly walked through the door.

  “Rough day at work?” Sherry said from her spot on the couch, right near the air-conditioning vent.

  “Lana’s a bridesmaid.”

  “A what?”

  “She’s going to be a bridesmaid in Duncan’s wedding.”

  “Oh, Wes. That really stinks.”

  Weslee sat heavily in the armchair facing Sherry and smiled. “It’s OK. I mean, it’s her cousin and all. But it’s just occurring to me now that she knew about this the whole time, from the very beginning. She never wanted to hear me talk about him. She knew he had this girl stashed away in London that he was going to marry, but she never said a word to me all that time when I thought we were friends.”

  Sherry shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Wes. She plays by a different set of rules, that’s all. You just have to forgive and forget.”

  Weslee quickly went to her room. She could tell that Sherry was starting to tire of her endless drama with Lana and now Duncan. She moped, reading absently, on her bed.

  Her cell phone rang.

  It was William, and as irritable as she already felt, his voice calmed her spirit.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She recounted the afternoon’s events to him.

  “Wes, I could have told you that, but I really didn’t want to upset you.”

  “You knew, too!”

  “Before you get all upset, listen to me, OK?” William said firmly. “You’re taking all of this way too personally. Lana’s just a spoiled girl who’s never going to grow up. In all the years I’ve known Duncan and his family, you’re the closest thing to a real girlfriend I’ve ever seen her have. She doesn’t know how to treat people like you because everyone else she knows is just like her. I really don’t think she meant to hurt your feelings. She just plays by a different set of rules, that’s all. You just have to take it or leave it.”

  What William was saying made sense to her, but she was still angry at him for not telling her what he knew. “I have to ask you an important question,” she said.

  “Oh, no,” he groaned. “Go ahead.”

  “Are you going to the wedding? And if you’re his best man, just hang up right now.”

  William laughed. “No, I’m not his best man. And I won’t go if you don’t want me to go,” he said.

  “What?” Weslee was touched and a little embarrassed for basically forcing William to choose between a longtime friend and her.

  “You heard me. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t go to the wedding.”

  “William, that is so sweet of you. But I couldn’t ask you to do that. Duncan is your friend.”

  “Hey, why don’t you come over here,” he said, jolting the conversation onto another lane.

  “Where?” Weslee asked, confused.

  “To my folk
s’. They’re having a bunch of people over tonight.”

  “Uh. I’m not sure, William. I planned on staying in tonight. I’m really not in the mood. . . .”

  “You don’t have to stay long. Just come out for an hour or so.”

  But what about the other night, she wanted to ask, when you said we should take things slow?

  “William, don’t you think that after the other night—”

  “Weslee. Please. Just come out tonight. I want you to meet my family. Just say yes. I’m tired of this back and forth.”

  She sighed loudly this time so he would hear. “OK, fine. Is this a dressed-up thing?”

  “Just relax, OK? You can wear rags if you want to.”

  She drove to Randolph, trying to process all that had happened during the day. Going to William’s house was better than staying home and moping about Duncan’s wedding. She was also starting to realize that the thought of Lana being a bridesmaid bothered her even more than Duncan marrying Susan Jarrett. It was as if she had made her peace with him; it was Lana who was still causing her so much disappointment.

  The house was crowded. People spilled out from the front door onto the porch in the steamy night. Calypso music blared, and Weslee could smell the curry chicken from the driveway. William met her as she was getting out of her Honda.

  “Wow. This is like a real party.”