Mozart surrounded them in a quiet cocoon of classical music as Bill’s Camry zipped along the highway between Fairbury and the Rockland loop.  The air between them practically wailed with discomfort and uncertainty.  Willow tried several times to tell Bill about her hopes of visiting the clothing store but suddenly telling him she’d made arrangements to spend more time with him felt awkward.  Bill, sensing her hesitation and unease, assumed it was rooted in his company.   With an inward sigh, he braced himself for a long day.

Willow glanced sideways, feeling miserable.  She wasn’t accustomed to not saying whatever was on her mind.  This uncertainty felt duplicitous and affected.  Nonetheless, it was real, at least the feeling was, and Willow knew she had to get past it.  She searched her mind for anything happy or interesting to share with Bill and remembered the sale of her produce.

“Oh, did I tell you what Chad did yesterday?”

The question, as innocent as it was phrased, couldn’t have been more unwelcome if she’d tried.  She watched from the corner of her eye as Bill’s features hardened into a resolute expression of disappointment and patience.  Before she could consider it, his reply sent a discordant note rippling through the car as though Mozart himself disapproved of her question.

“No.”

Inwardly shrugging her shoulders, Willow continued her story.  “Well, he brought Jill McIntyre out to the house last night.  She runs the Farmer’s Market in Fairbury every Saturday.”

Bill glanced at her and saw from her face that he’d dampened her enthusiasm.  Remorse crept slowly into his consciousness.  “It’s not Willow’s fault that Chad lives where he can be a friend,” he thought to himself.  “Oh?  What did she want?”

“Well, she bought all my ripe tomatoes, peas, some lettuce, cucumbers, and a little squash.  All that produce Mother and I planted for us isn’t going to go to waste after all!”

Willow excitedly withdrew her check.  “I brought the check she gave me.  I thought you could deposit it for us.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious.  One hundred fifty dollars was a fine meal to Bill and certainly could be to Willow but she acted as though she’d won the state lottery.  “Wow.  Just for one week’s vegetables?”

“Yep!  She says she’ll take anything I can spare.  I forgot to tell her about the fruit.  I hope she wants that.  Mother always ate an obscene number of cherries and they’re almost ready to pick.”

“You have fruit?”

Willow’s laugh mixed with Mozart in perfect harmony.  “That’s what Chad said when I mentioned it last night after Jill left.”

“I thought you said he brought her.”  Bill carefully enunciated each word as casually as he possibly could.  Bill didn’t conceal his disappointment nearly as well as he thought.

“He did.  She followed his truck in hers.  She has a really big truck.  It was almost full when she left.”  Willow decided now was probably the best time to tell him about her change of plans.  “Since he was there, I asked Chad if he could stop by tonight-”

Bill interrupted sharply, “I’ll be sure to have you back in time.  Never fear.”

“- and milk Willie so I don’t have to rush back.”

Amazed, Willow watched as the mask and armor that surrounded Bill melted away in seconds.  “Really?  I thought-”

“I know but you were trying to do something nice for me and-” she paused, hoping she wasn’t about to send him back into his shell.  “Well, I kind of hoped you’d be willing to take me somewhere.”

Nothing Willow could have said would have pleased Bill more.  He flashed a bright smile and promised, “Anywhere you want to go, we’ll go.  Name it.”

“You might regret that,” she warned.  “I heard about this store-”

“So you are a normal woman!  I knew it!”

Willow tried to manufacture an irritated expression but the twitch of her lips and the twinkle in her eyes ensured utter failure.  “What do you think I am, a normal man?  A normal monkey?  A normal weasel?”

“I was going more for an abnormal woman.”

The outskirts of Rockland loomed.  Bill immediately sensed Willow’s growing unease and gave her a quick reassuring smile.  “It’s ok.  It’ll be fine.”

Her face tried to recompose into some semblance of calm and reason but she failed.  “I’m sorry.  It is just so immense.  I’m not used to being afraid of things.”

“Don’t look at the city, look at me.  Talk to me.  What do you want to do today?”

Taking his advice, Willow trained her gaze on Bill’s face and talked freely ignoring the rapidly advancing city.  “I thought we were going to the Pennsylvania Avenue Museum.”

“We are.  What do you want to do- see the whole thing in one trip or focus on a few rooms and then come back another time?”

They debated the merits of a grand sweep of the museum or seeing a few rooms and spending more time in each and finally decided not to decide until they got there.  Bill remembered her shopping detour and queried, “Where is that store you wanted to visit?”

“I don’t know.  It’s called Boho Chic and is on Boutique Row.  That’s all Lee said.”

Bill whipped onto the loop and joined the mass of vehicles encircling the city.  She watched in semi-fascinated horror as he wove in and out of traffic and then zipped off the freeway onto Waterbrook Avenue.  Within minutes, they parked in a garage at the corner of what the Rockland citizens affectionately called “Boutique Row” and took to the street on foot.

“I don’t know what end of the street it’s on-”

“Maybe we should ask one of the stores.”

Unbeknownst to her, Willow was about to be inducted into the fraternal order of women with directionally challenged men in their lives.  “Well, if it’s on the Row, then it’s not like it won’t be right here.”

Willow enjoyed her stroll down the broad sidewalks and the display windows of the shops they passed.  As each store passed, she grew more and more amazed at the sheer number of businesses.  Some places sold only jewelry or purses.  Others sold bric-a-brac and small household furnishings.

“Where do people put all this stuff?  How many pictures and vases and figurines can people have?  Oh look, an antique bookstore!”

Bill chuckled as Willow opened the door instinctively and stepped inside the musty smelling shop.  She wandered from row to row, her fingertips running along spines as she went.  Occasionally she paused and opened a favorite book.  “This is the most wonderful store.  I love this!”

Several books tempted Willow nearly beyond her endurance to resist but she managed.  Bill tried to convince her that there was nothing wrong with buying a book she wanted but she insisted that their shelves were full.  She reasoned that she could weed through their collection and return to purchase alternates on their next day together.

Bill, happy to hear her talking about a ‘next time’ agreed and finally dragged her from the store laughing good-naturedly at her protests.  At the second corner, Willow spied the store.  “Look Bill!  See that store with the rounded corner windows?  That’s it!”

She started to run but Bill caught her arm.  “This is the city, Willow.  You don’t run in the streets or people think you stole a purse.”

With a cursory glance at his hand on her arm, Willow took a deep breath and smiled.  “I’m sorry-”

“No.  Don’t be.  Your enthusiasm is infectious.  Just don’t run.”  Reluctantly, Bill released her arm and motioned her across the street as the light changed colors.

From the moment Willow stepped inside the boutique, she was entranced.  She exclaimed over styles, fabrics, and fabric combinations.  Bill, on the other hand, was utterly confused.  There were very few clothes and the few they did have, were on display on the walls.  The shop seemed tiny.  Barely twelve by sixteen feet, the center of the room boasted several couches, a large coffee table with photo albums, and a small desk near one corner.

Willow, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease.  She viewed the various designs displayed on mannequins near the walls and flipped through seemingly endless fabric swatches.  While the sales clerk helped a pair of women with their choices, Willow perused several of the albums.

After several minutes, she turned to Bill happily.  “I’ve decided what I want to order.”

“Order?”

“Yes.  You choose the styles you want, the fabrics you want, and they make them in your size and ship them out within seventy-two hours!”

The saleswoman hurried to help Willow as the other customers exited the shop.  Once introduced to Suki, Willow pointed out the skirt, two blouses, and dress she’d chosen.  Suki diligently wrote down design numbers and fabric choices, pausing to compare them to ensure she had an accurate order.

“Those are great combinations.  I wouldn’t have put those two together but they look great.  You have an eye for fabrics.”

“Thank you.  I wouldn’t have put aqua and chocolate together like that but look at those stripes.  They’re delicious!”  Willow’s enthusiasm bubbled causing Bill to smile even more.

Things came to a grinding halt when Suki asked for Willow’s size.  “I don’t know.  I can’t remember what size this skirt was.  I think maybe a six.  My jeans are sixes.”

Suki excused herself and vanished behind swinging doors emerging minutes later with several garments slung over an arm.  “There’s a fitting room just inside those doors.  Why don’t you try a couple on so we’re sure to get a good size?  If you don’t like the length, make note of it so I can make sure your skirts are perfect.”

Willow pushed through the swinging doors and found herself surrounded by racks and doors.  Two small half-swinging doors hung to her right, clothes to her left, and a third door with a knob straight ahead.  With a shrug, she turned the knob and opened the door.  A bright room full of machines, tables, and walls covered with bolts of fabric greeted her.  Women looked up from their work, smiled, and returned to sewing again.

The woman nearest her laid her cutter aside and hurried to assist her.  “I’m Mattie.  Can I help you?”

“I’m supposed to be trying these on but I think I got the wrong room.  Is this where you sew everything?  It’s so bright and well organized!  Those sky-lights are marvelous.”

Mattie chatted with her for a moment, and then showed the way to the half-swinging doors and assured her that her privacy was secure.  “Just hook the latch in case someone doesn’t hear you in there.  Have a nice day.”

Bill stood as Willow entered wearing a dress she’d chosen.  The fabric was similar to the fabric she’d chosen and the style was perfect for her.  Everything about the garment suited her but unlike the clothes he’d seen on her over the years he’d known her, this dress wouldn’t stand out in a crowd- or if it did, the reaction would be decidedly positive.

“Bravo!  Do they sell off the rack?  You need that dress.”

“I do not,” Willow protested laughing.  “I’ve just ordered one similar and I have no intention of buying two almost the same.”  To Suki, she turned, holding her arms out at the sides and said, “What do you think of the fit?  It’s comfortable but it feels a little roomy.”

Suki shook her head emphatically.  “That’s supposed to be a fitted dress.  Try the other one.”

Over the next half hour, Willow tried on a dozen dresses and two dozen skirts.  They quickly discovered that due to her muscular and decidedly curvy upper body, skirts and blouses were a better option.  At last, she appeared in the showroom in the one dress Willow had not intended to try at all.

Bill’s low whistle brought a slight tinge of pink to her cheeks giving Willow lovely color.  “Buy it.  If you don’t, I am and I’ll pick the colors I know you like the least.”

After Willow returned to the dressing room to put on her own clothes once again, Suki turned to Bill and smiled.  “That dress was incredible.  I’ve never seen such a transformation!”

Bill agreed nodding but saying nothing.  Willow’s personality had slowly attracted him since Kari’s death but today he’d seen something else.  While she wasn’t as beautiful as her mother, Willow Finley was definitely one of the most attractive women he’d ever met.

While Willow changed, Bill paid for her order and gave the delivery address.  When she reappeared, all Willow had to do was sign stating that all choices were correct.  They exited the store and Bill glanced at his hands in exaggerated amazement.  “I just went clothes shopping, with a woman no less, and left the store in less than an hour and without any bags.”

“And with a lighter bank balance.  I had the money to pay for them Bill.”

He draped an arm casually over her shoulder and propelled her along the street.  “Ah but stores like that aren’t accustomed to dealing with cash.  I’ll cut myself a check on Monday.  So,” he added changing the subject quickly. “What do you want to do now?  Shall we do some window-shopping or would you like to visit Rockland’s first library?  It’s up here just a few more blocks.  Or, if we turn around and go back the way we came, my apartment building is just a few blocks over.  I could show you where I live.”

“Your apartment?  You don’t have a house?  Odd.  Somehow I always pictured you with a house.  Yellow with a green door and a white picket fence.  Oh, and a cat.  One of those sleek black ones.”

They did an about-face and returned to Bill’s car, drove to the Roark Building, and disappeared into the labyrinth of cars and storage buildings beneath the building.  Every curve of the garage sent a new burst of panic through Willow’s heart.  By the time Bill parked and turned off the vehicle, Willow’s hands were cold and her breath shallow.  The darkness punctuated with regular intervals of florescent light did little to reassure her of the safety of the structure.

Bill sensed the change but decided to try acting as though nothing was amiss.  He wondered if he’d fed her fear on her last trip and hoped to push her past it more quickly this time.  He walked around the front of the car where she could see him at all times, and opened her door.  He took her hand and pulled her from the vehicle and if he noticed her resistance, he gave no sign of it.

“It’s so big.”

“Yeah, it’s one of the nicest buildings in town.  I love it.”

Bill led her through a set of double doors into an anteroom and then out another set onto the street.  Each step out of the building was slower and less confident.  Bill felt like a heel for not remembering how terrified she’d been but remembering her ease after a night in the town, he kept her moving.

“This is Franco.  He’s our security guard.”  Bill smiled at the man and introduced Willow to him.  “Franco, this is my friend Willow from Fairbury.  I thought I’d give her the grand tour.”

Franco nodded in Willow’s direction.  “Nice to meetcha ma’am.”  To Bill he said, “I think Ms. Chen hasn’t been up there yet.”

With a quick nod, Bill led Willow to the elevator calling out his thanks as he did.  “Have a good one Franco.”

In the elevator, Bill groaned good-naturedly.  “Well, you’ll see me at my worst if Lin hasn’t been there yet.  I’m a bit of a slob.”

Willow hardly acknowledged Bill’s confession.  Instead, she worked on controlling her breathing and not getting as violently sick as she suddenly felt.  “I can clean up for you.”

“That’s kind of you Willow, but she gets paid whether or not you do so why don’t you enjoy your day off.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal a slender woman in exercise attire standing there waiting to enter.  “Bill!  I haven’t seen you for weeks.”

“That might be because you’ve been in Tokyo for the past month.  How was the trip?”  Bill caught Margot’s glance at Willow and apologized.  ”Oh, I’m sorry Margot, this is Willow.  Willow, meet my neighbor Margot Wyngate.  She lives across the hall.”

Margot smiled at Willow.  “Pleased to meet you.”  Without waiting for a response, she turned to Bill once more and said, “I’m having a few people over tonight.  I left an invitation under your door.”  With a cordial but less than warm glance at Willow she continued, “Of course I didn’t know you had company.  Your friend is welcome to come too of course.”

Bill felt Willow stiffen beside him.  He slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her away from the elevator doors.  “Sorry, we have plans for sushi tonight and of course, she lives in Fairbury so we’ll be heading that way awfully late.  Have fun though!”

As the elevator doors closed, they reached Bill’s door.  He removed reached into his pockets for his keys and unlocked it.  “Thanks.  Margot is a nice lady but we run in different circles.”

“She’d like to change that.”

Bill paused as he opened the door.  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought about it, but you might be right.”

“She’s beautiful…”

He tossed his keys on the counter and flipped through his mail.  Lin had been there at least.  Clothes weren’t strewn from one end of the house to the other.  “Well, yes.  Margot’s beautiful and she’s actually a very nice woman but I’m not interested and I have to make sure I don’t give her the impression that I am.”

Willow set her purse on the edge of the kitchen counter and wandered through the loft.  She’d never seen anything so sparse and cold.  Instinctively, she knew the room represented a certain amount of wealth and the continuity showed that it was carefully planned.  The view from his windows was impressive.

Bill saw her walk to the largest window and lean against the edge.  Her posture was relaxed.  No trace of her previous fear remained.  “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I think I could learn to like it but it’s still a little intimidating to me.  It’s impressive though; that’s for sure.”

He poured them both a glass of water and followed her as she continued her tour.  At his bedroom doorway, she turned.  “May I?”

“Of course.  You didn’t need to ask.”

She took the glass of water as she entered the room.  “Well, the other room doesn’t have walls and doors but this one did so I didn’t know…”

The bedroom amazed her.  A huge bed filled the center of the room facing a window that covered an entire wall.  There was no other furniture.  The cherry wood headboard blended in with the glossy floor and the black comforter lay piled to one side of the unmade bed.  Crisp white sheets lay twisted and wadded near the foot of the bed.

Unconsciously, Willow grabbed the corner of the sheet and pulled it to the top of the bed.  She walked around the foot smoothing the sheets carefully as she did but found Bill blocking her way to the other side.  “It’s ok.  Leave the bed.  Mrs. Chen will take care of it.  I think she changes sheets today anyway.”

Willow blushed.  “Oh!  I didn’t-” She glanced back at the bed.  “That is just the biggest bed I’ve ever seen!”

Bill laughed as he followed her from the room.  “How many beds have you seen Willow?”

“Three.  Well, four now.”

She moved to the treadmill half concealed by a black lacquer screen at one end of the loft.  Bill started to ask what the third bed was and then remembered the hotel.  He couldn’t count the number of beds he’d slept in much less all those he’d seen.”

“What is that for?”  She pointed to the treadmill and eyed it curiously.

“It’s a treadmill.”

“Well, that tells me what it is but it still doesn’t tell me what it is for.”

Suddenly, Bill felt foolish.  How doe you explain to a woman like Willow that you have a machine in your house that’s sole purpose is to simulate a walk that she makes just to go to church.  “Well, it’s for exercise.”

The look she gave him told him he wasn’t going to get off that easily.  “That is so helpful.”

Bill reached for the control panel and turned it on.  Willow stared at him, at the treadmill, and then back at him.  Bill sighed and got on the machine.

He walked.  To demonstrate the range of the machine he bumped the incline and the speed controls.  Feeling ultra foolish, he rolled back off the end and took a bow before reaching to flip the switch.

“No wait, let me try.”  Utterly fascinated with the idea of a machine for walking, Willow spent a couple of minutes on it before Bill hit the switch.

“Come on, you’ll get all hot and sweaty and then you’ll be miserable all day.”

She took her glass to the sink and glanced around the kitchen.  It was tiny.  There were few cupboards, a small refrigerator, and no table.  “Where do you eat?”

“If I’m here, I eat on the couch.  I’m rarely here for meals.”

“How sad.”  There was no condemnation in her voice- just pity.

She leaned against the countertops and surveyed the loft.  “It’s very large, isn’t it?”

“As apartments go, yes.  Margot’s is a lot bigger of course.  All the South side apartments are larger but the North Side has great lighting.”

They talked until her stomach growled and Bill insisted that they go find lunch.  Willow offered repeatedly to make something but a fridge full of yogurt, wine, cheese, and water didn’t inspire a grand feast.  He smiled to himself as she glanced toward the treadmill on her way out the door.  Willow Finley would never cease to amaze him.

“Let’s go down by the RAC and find a pasty vendor.”

“Pasty?”

Bill took the elevator all the way to the parking garage and led her to his car explaining the history of Rockland and their famous pasties.  “You know how Chicago is known for its pizza and New York for their hot dog street vendors, well here we have pasty vendors.  We’re world famous for them.  We can’t have a day in Rockland without pasties!”

They walked along Metropolitan Blvd. to City Park munching on their pasties and talking.  At the park, Bill showed her the area the city planned to convert into a lake.  “It’s ridiculous of course.  They’ll spend millions in taxpayer dollars for a lake, and for what?  We’ll look like a poor man’s Chicago.”

“What would you do with the land?”  Willow wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin and pasty wrapper in a trash can picking up half a dozen cups and wrappers lying on the ground nearby.

Bill watched with a smile as she rinsed her hands in the water fountain and shook them dry.  “I’d sell it.  Developers could buy it, farmers, philanthropists- anyone.  I just don’t think it’s an appropriate use of taxpayer dollars.”

“What if a philanthropist bought it and paid for the lake.  What would you say about it then?”

His mouth opened and closed.  Twice.  With a sheepish smile, he nudged her arm with his.  “You’re right.  My pride still doesn’t like it but at least it’d be private money spent rather than my hard earned and your hard earned money.”

“But I don’t earn any money.  Well,” she continued happily.  “Not before yesterday.”

“Willow, you have money that makes money for you while you sleep.”

“Seems like a lazy way to earn money but it lets me live well so I won’t complain.”

Amazed, Bill gaped at her until she noticed and protested.  “What?”

“Lets you live?  We went over your accounts.  You never have to work.  If you keep living the way you do, by your mother’s age, you’ll have over ten million dollars.”  The moment he said it, Bill winced.  “Ok, that didn’t come out right.”

“Death never does.”

A quick glance told him Willow wasn’t joking, wasn’t offended, and had no idea how her statement sounded.  Her forthrightness was generally refreshing but occasionally it was unsettling and when it was, he didn’t know how to respond.  Finally, Bill took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze.  “She made sure you were well taken care of.  She was a remarkable woman Willow.”

“Not everyone’s parents leave them a home and the skills to keep themselves fed.  I’m blessed.”

At the nearest bench, Bill sat down and faced her.  “We discussed your financial situation the day we arranged the funeral, do you remember?”

“Yes.  You said the bills were paid and that I’d still have the money to keep up with taxes and the things we have to buy.  I know I’ve been a little extravagant since mother died but I mostly used the money in the house so I thought it’d be ok.”

Bill tried again, this time with a different tactic.  “How much money do you think the average American earns and spends per year on living expenses?”

“Oh it must be thousands!  I know our cow alone is several hundred dollars every year.”

Stunned into a rabbit trail, Bill’s jaw dropped visibly.  “You eat a whole cow every year?”

“Half.  Well, between mother, Othello, and I we do.  The other half goes to the butcher.”

This stunned Bill more than anything else.  He’d always assumed they butchered their own animals.  “He takes half?”

“Well we give him half.  We can’t eat it all so instead of paying him, mother just gave him the meat we couldn’t eat in exchange for the work.  He wraps, labels, and stores it in our freezer for us while we’re out fishing.”

Mentally shaking his head at a life he couldn’t comprehend, Bill brought the rabbit trail back to the main road.  “So give me a ballpark figure.  What do most Americans spend to live every year?”

“I don’t know- maybe five or ten thousand?  People have cars and things that cost money so maybe a little more.  Mother and I never discussed it.  I wonder why that never came up.”

“Multiply that by ten.  You and your mother live on around ten thousand most years.  A little more lately but the price of everything is going up of course.”

Willow’s shock amused him.  Bill had expected she didn’t realize how little money they spent of the principal and interest that grew every year.  “I had no idea we spent so much money!  How long will the money last?”  Uncertainty crept into her features.

“Indefinitely at the rate you’re spending.  It grows every year Willow.  According to Mr. Barnes, your mother deposited just over two hundred k when she opened her investment account.  It’s over two point five mil now.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bill spent the next twenty minutes explaining compound interest, cost of living, inflation, and taxes.  He was quite proud of his impromptu lesson in consumer mathematics and waited eagerly for the light bulb of understanding to illuminate her features.  It never lit.

“I know all of that.  Mother taught me all of that.”

Bill was nearly speechless.  In one final desperate attempt to make her understand, he tried again.  “How much money do you think I have to have to live in my apartment, travel like I do, and have the lifestyle I have?  How much do you think I earn?”

“Probably about the same as me.  I mean, you have more expensive things, but I have land and animals and you have furniture and a vehicle.”

“My retirement account is about an eighth of your bank account.  By the time I retire, I hope to have about two to five million dollars saved if my investments do well.  You’ll have well over double or even triple that just keeping it in the safe slow growth account you have.  Meanwhile I have to earn six figures a year to live my life and I spend a significant portion of it.”

Innocently, Willow mumbled aloud, “I wonder how much Chad makes.  I’ll have to ask him.  That is fascinating.”

“No!”  Bill saw her startle at his emphatic response and tried again.  “It’s not generally considered a polite question.  You don’t ask people how much money they make or spend.”

“You did.”

He groaned and tried again.  “I’m your financial advisor.  I’m an exception.  I’m trying to get through to you that you are a relatively wealthy woman.  You’ll continue to be very comfortably well off if you live a normal middle class lifestyle.  You’ll increase your wealth significantly if you continue to live as spartanly as you have over the years.”

As though she hadn’t heard the words, ‘relatively wealthy’ Willow latched onto his final words.  “We live quite well!  Anything we want, we buy.  We have all the supplies we ever need!  I’m going to make a new rug this winter!”

Bill stood and offered his hand.  There was no way to make Willow understand, at that moment, that their wants were amazingly simple and few and very different from the wants of most of the country.  “Let’s go meet the Presidents and sit in the Oval Office.”