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A dark look of foreboding looms in Schmidt’s expression. “Please do not ask me any more on that topic.”
36
TROY
April, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“So how comeyou need me to tag along with you to your friends’ house?” Jessica asks from the passenger seat of my truck. Butterscotch is sitting on her lap, looking out the side window as we leave Maple Ridge. The weather is perfect for the drive along the highway. Cloudy, but with no rain or snow in the forecast.
We’re on the way to Dylan and Jenny’s ranch house so I can discuss their renovation plans with them.
“Because you, Butterscotch, and I are also going to visit their golden retriever puppies.”
“Puppies?” Jess practically squeals the word. “Why didn’t you say so before? That’s just what Robyn ordered.”
“Robyn ordered you to visit puppies?”
“No, not in so many words. She gave me two assignments yesterday. One is to come up with a list of hobbies—past hobbies and new ones I might like to try. The other is to create a list of things that relax me. And what’s more relaxing than visiting adorable puppies?”
I take my eyes off the road long enough to briefly stare at her. That’s gotta be the most Jess has ever said to me when I’ve asked her a question or tried to get her to open up. Usually, she doesn’t say much beyond the minimal. The only exception was when we talked about her renovations. “Have you started your lists yet?”
“I have.”
“Can you tell me what’s on them? Or is that a secret?”
She laughs the sweet sound that’s a treat to hear. The sweet sound I’m becoming addicted to. “I don’t think they qualify as a state secret. So far, I only have a few items. The lists are a work in progress. I went to yoga last night. I enjoyed it, so that’s now on my relaxation list.”
“That sounds like a good start. What else?”
“When it comes to hobbies, I’ve got writing, which isn’t so much a hobby as an old career plan. But I was thinking if you need someone with strong writing skills to help bring awareness to your festival, I could do that. Maybe I could write some special-interest articles for local newspapers.”
I give Jess a double take, wondering what happened to the quiet woman I met two weeks ago. This woman is vibrant and smiling. It isn’t because of one session with Robyn. It takes a helluva lot more than that for someone to cope better with PTSD. Plus, the change started before that, but it was too subtle to notice at first. Whatever the reason, I love seeing Jess like this.
“Are you volunteering to be part of the PR and marketing committee?” I ask. Because that doesn’t sound like a bad idea—as long as Robyn doesn’t see an issue with it. Jess mentioned on Tuesday that she would love to do something involving writing. The PR committee would be perfect for her.
“I don’t have much experience in either of those areas, but sure, I can help with that committee. Maybe I can interview individuals who were diagnosed with PTSD and their families who benefited from assistance. Then I can show what it meant for them and how the festival will benefit so many people.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Did Robyn say it would be okay for you to help with the event planning?” I didn’t bring it up when I talked to her this morning, when she called to tell me Jess had agreed to see her on a regular basis.
My question is met with silence. “Did you ask her?” I prompt Jess again.
“I forgot.” The pitch of Jess’s voice drops to a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” I turn in time to catch her shoulders curl in on themselves as if bracing against a storm.
What the hell?
My eyes go back to the road. “Hey, that’s okay. You can ask her next time. Your first priority is you and your mental health. The rest can wait. What else is on your hobby list?”
“I was flipping through some of Iris’s magazines and came up with knitting, making jewelry, and calligraphy.”
“You don’t sound too excited about them.” Underwhelmed would be a better description.
A rush of air pushes past her lips in what sounds like a slow leaking tire. “Like I said, it’s a work in progress.”
“That’s okay. What about your relaxation list? Any luck with that?”
“That one is easier. Yoga. Hiking. Watching the sunset. Biking. Reading. Listening to music.” She mumbles something at the end I don’t catch.
