The House of Seven Mabels

puppy.
    Jane recovered slightly over a Crab Louis salad, which was the best she’d ever had. “We aren’t really going to do this again next week, are we?“
    “We overestimated how well we had to dress,“ Shelley said. “Didn’t you see all those people with comfy sneakers and waist packs instead of monster purses like the one you brought along? Now that we know our way around—at least one of us does—it’ll be easier to find what we’re looking for. I wish I’d ordered that salad instead of this sandwich. Let me have a bite, would you?“
    “Would you be embarrassed if I took a nap on the train home?“ Jane asked, gently shoving her salad plate toward Shelley.
    “Only if you promise not to snore.“
    “I don’t snore.“
    “How do you know?“ Shelley asked.
    “Well, maybe sometimes,“ Jane admitted. She picked at the handmade oyster crackers that had come with her salad for a moment and finally said, “Shelley, promise me you won’t drag this out any further if the contract isn’t really good.
    I’m not the same caliber of shopper that you are. You couldn’t get me back into that place today if you held a gun to my temple.“
    “You’ll get over it,“ Shelley said with complete confidence. “But only if we get a decent contract. I do promise you that.“

Nineteen

    Jane felt even worse the next morning when she woke up. The foot she had broken a bone in several months earlier, and hadn’t given her so much as a twinge after she got the cast off, was slightly swollen and hurt like the devil. She was afraid she’d done it some damage and didn’t even want to put shoes on today. Her left shoulder ached a bit from hauling around the heavy purse the day before.
    The trip to the Merchandise Mart hadn’t been good for her. She never wanted to see the place again. Of course, Shelley would go back at the drop of a hat, but Shelley really didn’t need her along, regardless of the partnership. Shelley had a flair for decorating and an obsession with shopping. Jane had neither quality. But she was good at putting colors together well, with the front hall being her single notable exception.
    If the contract was good enough to accept, she’d work something out with Shelley to take less of the profits, if she herself was allowed to avoid the Merchandise Mart forevermore.
    After hobbling around getting Todd and Katie off to school, she brooded over this while she soaked in a hot, sudsy bath with a paperback mystery set in an unnamed suburb of Chicago. The phone rang in her bedroom a couple of times, but she made no effort to hop out of hot soapy water to answer it.
    As the water started cooling, she washed her hair, showered the soap off, put on her favorite fuzzy yellow robe and staggered out of the bathroom. The foot felt better. The shoulder no longer ached. Maybe she’d be okay.
    The first message on the answering machine was Mel. He had a window of freedom at lunchtime. Did she want to eat with him? She renamed his call immediately and took him up on the offer. “But let’s eat here. My foot is hurting and I don’t want to put on shoes.“
    “What did you do to it?“
    “Walked seventeen miles behind Shelley yesterday at the Merchandise Mart in shoes I hadn’t worn for a long time.“
    “Come on, Janey. Seventeen miles?“
    “It seemed like it. But I have plenty of food in the house for a change. So drop by whenever you’re free.“
    The next two calls were both from Shelley. “Where have you gone? Are you feeling better today?“
    Then a little later: “I went by the House of Seven Mabels and they’re tearing the sunporch down. They’ll be starting a replacement tomorrow. Bitsy’s trying to save a bit of money by making it smaller, but I think she’s wrong. I need you to back me up before they pour the new foundations. If she’s going to have a sun-porch, it needs to be generous. Or she shouldn’t replace it at all. Oh, and Bitsy still doesn’t have the new contract. I can see that your car’s in the garage. Why are you hiding out?“
    Shelley was the only person she knew who could conduct an entire conversation with an answering machine.
    Jane returned the call. “My foot hurts again and so did my shoulder, so I was taking a long, hot bath,“ Jane told her.
    “What did you do to your foot?“
    “Walked around behind you. I’m not even putting shoes on today.“
    “Oh, Jane. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have hauled you along if I’d known that would