Page 111 of More Than Pen Pals

“Fine,” Randall mimics. “We’re not watching your movie.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I point at Tonya and then Sonya. “You two are not telling Mom anything.” I point to Randall. “You are watching the movie.” I ignore his groan, even though he did save me. “But every thirty minutes, we pause the movie and check on the Cubs game. If it’s the ninth inning and a close game, we’ll finish watching it before going back to the movie.”

The girls stare at me.

“What?” I look back and forth between them.

Tonya says, “You never tell us what to do.”

“He tells me what to do all the time,” Randall protests. “He tellseverybodywhat to do.”

“Not us,” our sisters say in unison.

“There’s a first time for everything.” I pat Sonya’s leg. “Now go get me a drink.”

fifty-three

“Ihave one rule for today,” Wendy says when she arrives at my apartment Saturday morning. “We’re not talking about the Hamilton boys or your brother. We are modern women, which means we should be able to spend a day together without talking about men.”

“That works for me.” It’ll be a nice change. Wendy and I have spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks, but I know very little about her other than which men she’s interested in. And she could say the same regarding me. “I’m a little ashamed of how much my love life has dominated our conversations.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be talking about Ash at dinner, though.”

“Yeah, we probably can’t avoid that, but I hope we can get to know Melissa, too.”

“All right, the not talking about men starts … now.” She plops down on my bed. “Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’ve never done a shopping day in the city,” I explain. “I don’t know what to wear. Do I look casual or classy? Should I wear cute or comfortable shoes? And what about dinner? Are we coming home to change before we go?”

Wendy points at the bag she dropped on the floor inside my door. “We’ll come back here. I brought my dinner clothes with me. That’s when we’re going to look classy. For now, look cute and for sure do comfy shoes. In fact, if you don’t have any shoes that are both cute and comfy, that’ll be the first thing on our list.”

In the end, she chooses my outfit, and we head out to conquer the shops of Chicago. Our first stop is Filene’s Basement, where we comb through the shoe department. I find some purple Keds on clearance that I think fit the bill, but Wendy disagrees.

“They’re cute for a thirteen-year-old, not a twenty-five-year-old,” she declares. “You need sexy cute.”

“Sexy cute? I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“It’s a thing. It’s something guys find sexy and girls consider cute.”

“Sexyandcuteandcomfortable? Not gonna happen. We’re more likely to see a unicorn galloping down Michigan Avenue.”

Within minutes she finds me a pair of genuine leather kitten-heel wedges with a peep toe that are almost as comfortable as the Keds.

“What did I tell you?” she says as I model them in front of the mirror. “The heel gives you a little lift in the booty, which you honestly don’t need, but it doesn’t hurt. The peep toe is sexy, I think they’re cute, and you claim they’re comfy. Plus, they’re on sale. What’s not to love?”

“You think I can wear these the rest of the day?”

“No. You need to break them in before wearing them on an all-day shopping expedition. You know what else they’ll be great for?” She doesn’t wait for me to guess. “Baseball games when you’re there for work.”

She’s not wrong. Melissa wore something similar at the game last week.

We spend the rest of the morning in the women’s clothing department and then head to a little bistro for lunch. I would’ve missed the place entirely, as the nondescript entrance is right next to Bennigan’s, which is overflowing with tourists.

As we sip our Clearly Canadians and wait for our soup and sandwiches, I ask Wendy about her family.

“As you know, I have two much-younger brothers. They’re still teenagers.”

I wonder exactly how old Wendy is. She hasn’t said, but I’m guessing she’s one or two years older than me.

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