Dear Emily

by Fern Michaels

  She smiled when she saw Ben’s car, grinned when she saw him pick a flower, which he would hand to her when he came through the kitchen door. He was a handsome man, physically fit, divorced. More important, he was a kind man with a gentle smile.

  “I picked this just for you. I have to treat my clients right.” He smiled. His smile was contagious. It set the mood for the workout session. “Catch!”

  “Ben, these are ten pound weights. I have trouble with five. C’mon.”

  “Let’s go, Emily. You want to tone up, this is the only way to go.”

  “How come you were late this morning?”

  “Business to take care of,” he said curtly.

  “In other words, none of my business. Sorry I asked. You don’t look happy, Ben.”

  “Don’t talk, work. I’m counting, let’s go.”

  When the hour session was over, Emily collapsed on the mat in the middle of the floor. Ben handed her a bottle of water. She gulped at it then wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Forget these weights. I’m going back to five next time.”

  “Then get yourself another trainer,” Ben said.

  “Testy, aren’t we? This is too much for me, Ben. I’m breathing like a racehorse.”

  “I wouldn’t have you use a ten-pound weight if I didn’t think you were ready. I’m the trainer, remember? Are you sure you aren’t the one who’s testy?”

  “I am uptight. Today we start to get the clinics ready. The others have a head start on me. Ben, sometimes it helps to talk things out. You said that to me a few weeks ago. I have a good ear.”

  “My ex is getting married in two weeks. That means my son is going to have two fathers. They want to adopt him. I said no. They said I wouldn’t have to pay child support anymore. I said no again.”

  “What does your son want?”

  “To live with me. His mother won’t allow it. He’s only eleven so what he wants doesn’t count,” Ben said, flopping down on the mat next to Emily.

  “I guess you aren’t looking for advice, huh?”

  “Not really. He’s my son and I’m not giving him up. God, I love that kid. Just because his mother and I couldn’t get along doesn’t mean he and I can’t have a relationship.”

  Emily wondered why he hadn’t married again. A good catch, she thought. “Would it make things different if you were remarried? Would you have joint custody then instead of visitation rights?”

  “I’d have to go back to court. Hey, you’re looking at one burned fella here. I’m never getting married again.”

  “I feel like that, too,” Emily said, hugging her knees. “We aren’t being fair, you know that, don’t you? There are a lot of nice men and women out there. Take my roommates, they’re the best. I offered to introduce you to them, but you said no. You’ve been divorced for seven years. Life is going to pass you by.”

  “What would you say if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

  “For starters, I’d say what took you so long?”

  “Brazen, aren’t you?”

  “It goes with the new me.”

  “You see, that’s my problem, I’m still the old me.”

  “Do you get off on wallowing? It only works for a while. I’m the living proof, Ben. You haven’t severed your ties yet; at least that’s the way I see it.”

  “And I suppose you have?”

  “I’m trying. I’m moving on, trying new things, doing new things. I want to learn how to laugh all over again. I still cry sometimes. It seems to me you’re just going through the motions of filling up your days.”

  He kissed her then to shut her up. She responded hungrily, demanding he carry the kiss further. He pushed her away.

  “I don’t know about you, but I liked that. Let’s do it again.”

  “I don’t like to be used,” Ben said flatly, his gray eyes full of pain.

  “I don’t either,” Emily said. She crooked her finger under his nose. “C’mere.”

  They whispered and tussled, each afraid, yet unafraid, as they tried to shed their clothes without ungluing their lips.

  “It’s been a long time,” someone whispered.

  “Too long,” someone else whispered.

  The plastic mat was slick with sweat, but it had the effect of a dose of cold water. Emily jerked away, her arms crossing her breasts. “I…I can’t do this…I’m sorry, Ben. I…I thought I could, but I’m not ready…”

  “Hey, don’t mind me, I’m just a guy sitting here with an erection even I can’t believe. What the hell happened?” he groaned.

  “It’s me. The physical side of me wants…but my head…I’m not ready. Please don’t be upset.”

  “Well, goddamn it, Emily, I am upset. You get me all lathered up, I’m buck-ass naked in front of a client. I’ll turn around and you get dressed. Look, I’m not angry. I think I even understand.”

  Fully clothed, they sat on the mat and stared at one another. They burst out laughing at the same time.

  “Friends,” Emily said, holding out her hand.

  “Friends,” Ben said solemnly. “For whatever this is worth, Emily, you’re the first woman I’ve gotten close to for a long time. You’re special, Emily. For some reason I don’t think you know that yet, but you are.”

  “That’s the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me, Ben.” Suddenly, she was shy, unable to look at the man whose naked body she’d just mashed herself into.

  “Well, I gotta be on my way. I have to go all the way to Murray Hill for my next session. Good luck with your decorating. If you need someone to hang curtains or drive nails, I’m a phone call away. I’d like to help, I really would.”

  “If I need you, I’ll call,” Emily said in the kitchen doorway. “Drive carefully.”

  “You’re the only person who ever says that to me.” Ben grinned. “I will. Have a nice day and don’t overdo it.”

  “Bye, Ben.”

  “Bye, Emily.”

  Her adrenaline was still pumping so Emily opted for her second shower of the day. An hour later she was carrying boxes and bags into her new fitness center that was off Highway 27 with easy access from the road. There was adequate parking, and if she ever needed an overflow, the side streets would be handy.

  It’s ironic, she thought, that I’m between a bakery and a pizza parlor. Think positive, Emily. The rent was just right and the management company had agreed to install two showers and add a second bathroom. They agreed to pay half for the mirrored wall, but refused to lay down new tile or buy blinds for the huge plate glass window. She’d taken a three-year lease. She didn’t know if it was a mistake or not. If things worked out, the rent was secure with no raises. Time to get things off the ground.

  Emily looked around. Two thousand square feet seemed like a lot when the room was empty. Now with the rows of machines it didn’t seem so big. Everything looked new, fresh and unused. Women liked things like that. At least she did. She dusted her hands dramatically before she started to unpack the boxes and bags.

  She blinked when she held up the valances that matched the lightning bolt wallpaper Zoë said was a must. “You look at it and you want to move.” The jagged streaks were every color of the spectrum and Zoë was right—just looking at the paper gave you an itch to move. The chairs and desk were plastic, bright in color and bought from Ikea. The floor was white and would be washed and waxed each night before closing. Modular shelves, all colors, rose from the floor to the ceiling behind the bright blue desk and Stop sign red chair.

  The small room off the main exercise room was decorated in a soothing pale shade of green. It was carpeted in a deeper shade of green, still soothing and comfortable-looking. Nine futons lined the walls. Soft music would play in the background. This was the cooling-down room where clients would go to when they finished working out.

  A small refrigerator filled with water, juices, and diet soft drinks stood in the corner. A bank in the shape of a large green apple was on top. Customers were on the honor system to deposit seventy-five cents if
they bought a drink. The only other thing in the room was a small fish tank with two tropical fish named Harry and Harriet. Supposedly, watching fish swim relaxed a person. Ian had installed them in all his clinics and patients had commented on it. Ian went so far as to say watching the fish would bring a person’s blood pressure down.

  The bathrooms, with two showers each, were tiled, one in blue, one in pink with matching floors. The towels were pink and blue, all of them sewed by Lena, who’d bought toweling by the yard. They’d saved a small fortune by hemming their own and the plan was to install four sets of washers and dryers between the eight locations. According to Zoë, the machines would pay for themselves within a few months, provided they had customers who would use the towels. Emily had gotten a cramp in her stomach the day she wrote out the check to Tops for thirty-four hundred dollars. If things were slow, they could do their personal laundry, which Zoë said was advisable because they weren’t paying for water and electricity at the clinics. It still boggled Emily’s mind that the management company had agreed to absorb the electric and water bills. Possibly it was her grim determination, her don’t-haggle-with-me, I-have-other-places-I-can-rent attitude. Whatever it was, she’d made a good deal and she knew it.

  The bright yellow phone on the bright blue desk rang. Emily sat down in the bright red chair and grinned from ear to ear. “Emily’s Fitness Center,” she said cheerfully.

  “Ooohhh, call me back so I can say the same thing.” Lena laughed. “You sound so good. How’s it going?”

  “I got the valance up. It looks great. All the towels are folded. My appointment book is still empty and so is the registration book. I just love it. I feel like I should be jumping around, doing something.”

  “That’s the object. Did you hang your bell over the door?”

  “Nope, that’s what I’m going to do next. Do you think we made a mistake by not putting in some green plants? What do you think?”

  “They cost money. I’m finished here so I can pick some up at the greenhouse if you think we need them.”

  “We don’t need them, but they would look nice. They’ll reflect off the mirrors and look like we have twice as many. Some greenery on the shelves behind the desk would look nice. Maybe some philodendrons in clay pots or bright-colored pots. Do you have any money on you?”

  “Three bucks, just enough for lunch. We need to start bringing lunch. Buying out is going to cost all of us. Kelly said she’d be willing to pack lunches for a while then we can take turns. I’ll stop by for a check and head over to the greenhouse.”

  When Lena returned at two o’clock, her car loaded down with greenery, they transferred half of it to Emily’s car and delivered the plants to the other six clinics. The philodendron for the shelves were in red, blue, and bright yellow pots. “It cost a little more, but I thought it added something,” Lena said. They all agreed.

  At four o’clock they were lined up like kids for a camp picture, dressed in their new sweatshirts, smiling for the reporter and photographer from the Courier. When it was over, Emily said, “I think it went well. I bet women flock in here day after tomorrow when we open for business. Get out your quarters, everyone, we’re going to toast something.”

  “What?” Lena demanded. “We can’t just make toasts willy-nilly. We need a reason.”

  “Well, we just had our picture taken, the clinics are technically open for business, we bought green plants, Kelly is going to start making lunches for all of us. All of that should be worth a toast. And if you don’t like that list, how about I almost, the key word here is almost, had sex with Ben this morning. I fizzled out.”

  She was sharing with her peers, her friends—something she’d never had the opportunity to do before. They weren’t going to judge her nor would they heckle her. If anything, they’d offer advice which she might or might not take.

  “What kind of body does he have? Did he look like the Liberated Stud?” Martina demanded.

  “Who had time to look? All of a sudden, there I was, drenched in my own sweat on that slick mat and I couldn’t do it. I pulled away and covered my breasts with my arms. I suppose I acted like a fool, but I…I wanted to, but part of me wouldn’t follow through. He was real nice about it; he even looked away while I put my clothes back on. After a while we both laughed about it. Do you think it means I’m still wrapped up in Ian? God, what if I can’t be with another man? I like sex. It’s that physical fix everyone needs from time to time. I’m tired of channeling my sex drive in other directions. I want it!”

  “Good for you!” Martha chortled.

  “Have I embarrassed any of you?” Emily asked. “I never really had friends to share things with. Oh, I had a friend during high school, but we didn’t share intimate things. It seems like I’m a late bloomer in more ways than one. I guess I trust all of you.”

  “Emily, there is nothing wrong with you. You’re being cautious. There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. You haven’t known Ben that long. Liking sex is fine, so don’t be defensive about it. When it feels right, you’ll do whatever you feel at the moment. I think you’re still a bit vulnerable. Time will take care of everything,” Lena said in her best motherly voice.

  They shared confidences for a long time. It was almost dusk when they locked up, saluted the front door smartly, and left to return to the house on Sleepy Hollow Road.

  The clinics didn’t take off like a rocket, even with all the publicity the local newspapers generated. The word of mouth Emily counted on didn’t happen. Five weeks into her endeavor, she started to panic when she wrote out rent checks and lease payments on the exercise equipment. In the five weeks since their grand opening, they’d netted only $965 on all eight clinics. She dipped into her nest egg with fear in her heart.

  “It takes time to get a business off the ground,” Lena said at their weekly meeting over the kitchen table.

  “I don’t understand. Ian opened the clinic and the next day we were swamped with patients and he wasn’t that cheap either. We’re cheap. What are we doing wrong? We have a walk-in policy and we have a membership policy. We take credit cards. Maybe we need some kind of enticement, a gimmick. Something. Instead of opening the clinics, maybe we should have gone around to big businesses and offered to open a clinic on their premises. Lunch-hour physical fitness, that kind of thing. I’m not giving up, but our money or our lack of money is going to start hurting real soon.”

  “We’re saving on our water; we’re showering at the clinics and doing our laundry there too.”

  “I have a cookbook with a hundred and one recipes for tuna fish,” Zoë said. “I filched it from the library. We can’t eat any cheaper or more nutritionally than we are. Is there anyplace else we can cut back?”

  “Heat. We’ll turn down the thermostat when we leave in the morning. That’s going to help some. Maybe we should open later and stay open until eight in the evening. I think we should vote on that. A lot of women commute to New York and don’t get home till six or seven. If we stay open till eight, we might have a shot at them.”

  “Or we look for a gimmick, like you suggested,” Lena said.

  Emily, her eyes on the Polaroid of the Liberated Stud, shouted, “That’s it! Let’s use him! I paid him fifty bucks plus tip for an hour to entertain us. We have eight clinics. We can each hire him for an hour. He can get his tips from the customers. It’ll be good publicity for him and for us. What do you think?” Emily cried excitedly. “If he agrees, we’ll get that frontal shot of him flexing his muscles and have it blown up to poster size and plaster them all over the place. It might work. Let’s call him and ask him to come over.”

  “Emily, that’s four hundred dollars a day. Two thousand a week. That’s an awful lot of money,” Lena said, panic in her voice.

  “He’d be a fool to turn it down,” Emily said. “We’ll figure out how much we have to take in in order to pay him and tell him in the beginning he’s pretty much going to be doing it for nothing. If it takes off, he’s going to make a lot of
money. I think he might see the possibilities. I’m going to call him right now. Let’s vote. Okay, the ayes have it.” Emily rummaged in the kitchen drawer for the Stud’s business card. Her eyes were wild when she dialed the number. She listened intently. She mouthed the words, He’s on a gig, but will check his messages on the hour. The girls nodded. “This is Emily Thorn. My roommates and I have a business proposition to offer you. It’s ten o’clock now. We’ll be up till midnight. Please call, or stop by on your way home. My number is 555-7026.”

  After she’d hung up, Emily asked, “How’d that sound?”

  “If it was me, I’d stop by,” Lena said. The others agreed.

  “Gin rummy, anyone?” Nancy asked, getting the cards out of the kitchen drawer.

  At ten minutes of twelve the doorbell rang. As one they scrambled to the front door.

  “What’s your real name?” Emily demanded.

  “Charley Wyland. What’s up, ladies?”

  Emily told him. “We’re investing in you. The question is, will you lend yourself to us and invest in us? If we get off the ground, you stand to make a lot of money. What do you normally do in the way of work during the day?”

  “I wash cars. I can’t do anything too physical, can’t ruin this body, you know. How long before the money starts rolling in?”

  “In a way, that’s going to depend on you. We’re going to target the housewife. Each hour you’ll do a different clinic. We’re going to be staying open till eight. Will that cut into your nighttime job?”

  “No, I usually don’t start till nine. I’ll give it a try. A month. If it doesn’t work out, I’m gone. I will need gas money, though, and lunch money.”

  “No, no, no, you eat the lunches we prepare. We’re on a tight budget,” Zoë said.

  “You ladies drive a hard bargain,” Charley said.