The Writer's Heart

18

"YOU'RE BEING stubborn," Gwen attempted to coax her daughter into getting out of bed. Jessie had her appointment with the therapist in less than an hour.

"Leave me alone," Jessie huffed and buried her face into a pillow. After her conversation with Kolt, she'd been so out of it. Her dreams had turned into nightmares. And she'd been waking up crying every fifteen minutes.

"Sweetheart, it's for your own sake," Gwen became frustrated. She grabbed Jessie's legs, and began to pull her out of bed. Jessie screamed and kicked. When they both toppled to the floor, Gwen streaked.

"Mom!" Jessie cried. She hadn't slept peacefully in days. And she'd been neglecting all of her responsibilities.

"Get up," Gwen grabbed Jessie's arm, and shoved her into the bathroom, "shower, get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen, young lady."

Jessie frowned. Why did she give her mother a spare key?

SITTING IN the therapist's office wasn't a favored moment for Jessie. Doctor Stevenson looked at Jessie, while tapping her pencil against her notepad. Jessie hadn't answered her last question, and wasn't planning to, "Jessie, why are you here if you won't open up to me?" Jessie looked at the doctor with bored eyes, "can you at least answer this one?"

"I'm here against my own wishes," Jessie said.

Doctor Stevenson nodded. Jessie crossed her arms, and leaned back. She cursed the ground that Carrie walked on. If it wasn't for her, Jessie wouldn't have to suffer under their mother's concerns, "why do you think you need to be here? There has to be a reason."

Jessie sighed. Telling her sister was a bad idea—it backfired. Why would she tell someone else? "My mom's in the waiting room. Let's just finish this hour, and peacefully carry one with our day."

Doctor Stevenson jotted something down on her notepad. Jessie was overly frustrated. If it wasn't for Kolt, she'd probably have been in a better mood. Also, Jessie was in the therapist's office, sitting still, while wondering where Marilyn was, and what she was doing.

But Jessie didn't want to see Marilyn that day. Marilyn hadn't even called when she'd promised that she would. Jessie sighed. Why did she care? Oh, right, she'd developed feelings for someone who she didn't deserve. But didn't she? Hadn't she suffered enough? Didn't Jessie deserve to be happy?

Apparently, she didn't think so.

Doctor Stevenson studied Jessie, as she got lost in thought. She'd spoken to Jessie's mother at the beginning of the session. And it didn't seem like Jessie wanted therapy, but those who needed it most usually didn't.

Jessie leaned her head back and gulped. Her heart was racing. She missed Marilyn. She missed her voice, and her smile. The sparkle in her blue eyes, and the softness in her tone. Jessie even missed the domineering Marilyn. Her chest tightened. Her heart stopped for a moment. Did Marilyn know that she was there? Did she take a peek at the appointment schedule, and noticed Jessie's name?

"Jessie, how was it working here?" That question got Jessie interested. And the doctor noticed. Jessie smiled and leaned forward.

"It was good."

Doctor Stevenson had remembered Jessie as the girl who everyone talked about. Harold seemed to be obsessed with her. And everyone knew that Marilyn had an immediate fascination, as well. They'd never seen their boss smile that much. And it was obvious that it was because of Jessie, "Doctor Isles took a strong liking to you. What can you tell me about that?"

Jessie's eyes lowered to the floor, and she pulled at the material of her long-sleeved shirt. It was one of those days where Jessie felt, and looked like a complete wreck. Her face lacked makeup. Her hair was bunched on her head. The unappealing outfit that she wore made even herself cringe. Jessie was always put together. She took pride in the way that she carried herself. And to look like a car crash made her feel small, "there's nothing much to say," Jessie shrugged. She wouldn't talk about Marilyn. She didn't want to. It wasn't anyone's business.