A Masterpiece Gone

Chapter Seventeen

"I know, but I'm part to blame," Jenny whispered into her end of the receiver, Jessie envisioning her underneath a desk somewhere in an empty office adjacent to the conference room from which she excused herself. In normal circumstances it would be quite comical but Jessie was mentally defeated. "Yeah, I was kidding, but when you didn't respond I should have known something was up or else maybe it wouldn't have come done to this."

Jessie remained curled up in a rather uncomfortable chair in the waiting area of Arbour Counselling, an oddly shaped room with a domed ceiling that thankfully did not have Aubrey manning the reception desk that afternoon. The current receptionist was too engulfed in texting that she could care less that Jessie was on her own in spite of the rectangular sign below the reception window in maroon block letters reading, "Please take all phone calls outside."

"Again, Jenny, this is not your fault," Jessie begged, nearly about to fall apart. The news of her trip to the cottage spread like wildfire, luckily within her family and closest friends and only John, but their response was heartbreaking. Everybody kept blaming themselves: John for making a suspicion out of nothing, especially when he received confirmation that the unknown caller was just a temp from Bazaar, Clair and Holly for not keeping in better touch, her parents and siblings for not making an effort to see her more often at her own house, and Brendan for being too focused on his career especially since her tour ended.

"But it is!" Jenny exclaimed, her attempt to lower her voice obvious. "I just thought you knew that the news of your surprise appearance on Bazaar was public knowledge. And when I realized that was the reason you probably hadn't spoken to me I thought it would be funny to tease you. If I had known about David..."

Since she got back from that very uncomfortable ride home in solitude with Brendan leading the way back out of the country roads, Jenny had brought up those sentiments several times in their conversations that followed. Of course way after the fact Jessie realized what a berk she was to think David was the last thing Jenny needed to hear about especially with Lauren's death, but she knew in just a few minutes or whenever Macie Rogers and Brendan were done with their own heart-to-heart that her freedom of dealing with things her own way was about to be stripped.

"Please. I wish everybody would stop. I'm....I'm damaged I guess," Jessie concluded solemnly as she pulled against the fabric of her gray leggings. "The only person to blame for my erratic thinking is me. The fact that my husband, who changed his flight time to be here and rent out this lady's office hours for privacy, is proof in the pudding I'm damaged."

Before Jenny could respond, Jessie heard some shuffling in the background. "Sorry. Since everybody bought that this was an emergency, which to me it was, I had to act the part when one of the associates banged on the door," Jenny explained. "I'm going to have to go in a minute, but I don't care what that lady tells you after she sees you. You are not damaged. Did you act a little on paranoia? Yes, but for reasonable cause, especially with that fucktart John stirring your mind and then me thinking posting an innocent un-captioned old school photo on Instagram of you, me, and Lauren would not go as far as people connecting the pieces. I didn't even think your fans really stalked me on cyberspace."

Closing her eyes, Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Once again, please don't blame yourself. Even if you wrote a tribute to Lauren attached to the picture, it would not have made a difference," she insisted. "With the few times we were all photographed in public so long ago, I guess people still do keep tabs on everybody in my life."

A muffled, but concerned male voice filled the background on Jenny's end. "I really have to go now, but I am going to leave you with this," she urged gently. "Be open enough to accept help with stress managing, but ignore any implication that you are unstable. People have done worse things than you and have not led the hellish life that you have. Call me tonight. I love you, Jess."