She stepped away from Robert and dragged her fingertips across the cool surface of the nearest Formica-topped table. She wandered the art room, noting all the things that hadn’t changed.
On the back wall hung the same painting that had been there for years, of two hands holding a globe. A sketch of Mr. White’s, where he’d sketched an image of himself sketching another image of yet another image of himself, occupied the wall at the front of the room. One of the watercolor landscapes Jessie did of the Double Diamond still hung on the wall to the left.
When Mr. White asked if he could display it her senior year, she’d gifted it to him as a thank you for all he’d taught her. Out of everything she’d painted, it was still one of her favorite pieces.
Jessie crossed the room to study a new painting on the opposite wall: a beautiful seascape with clean lines, vibrant colors, and excellent use of space. She appreciated the artist’s attention to detail and talent.
She wandered to the adjoining room—the ceramics lab—looking at the pieces of pottery that lined the shelves. She recognized a few pieces she created thirteen years ago. Mr. White hadn’t replaced them.
Jessie itched to get her hands on some fresh clay. Within minutes, she found a sizable hunk of clay in the same cabinet where Mr. White had always stored it. She looked over the pottery wheels; they all looked brand new. They must have cost the school a fortune.
Sitting at the closest wheel, she pulled the clay from the plastic bag and broke it into three chunks. Her breathing quickened as she rolled them into balls. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed this. She plopped the first ball on the center of the wheel.
Robert set a small bucket of water and a sponge beside her.
She smiled up at him.
His smile was almost as big as hers. Was he as excited to see her give this a shot as she was to try again? Once again, she had the urge to kiss him. He was honestly the most thoughtful man she’d ever known.
Grasping the clay in both hands, she bent over the lathe and tucked her elbows close to her sides for stability. The scent of the minerals in the clay filled her nose as the cool malleable mound bobbed and ebbed with the pressure of her fingers.
After several long moments, the mound centered, and she smiled. Dipping her hands into the water, she shaped the clay, slowly raising it into a perfect cylinder. She dripped water from the sponge over the clay.
The mesmerizing spinning of the wheel and the clay’s conformity to the pressure of her fingers eased a knot deep inside her. A knot that had been there long before she left Patrick. This was exactly the therapy she needed, especially since she couldn’t ride horses anymore.
Although Dr. Young hadn’t forbidden her to ride, he’d cautioned against it, considering her previous miscarriages.
Finding out she was already ten weeks along in her pregnancy had shocked Jessie. She must have gotten pregnant almost immediately after going off the pill this last time. A part of her still wished things had turned out differently, but hearing the baby’s heartbeat at her doctor’s appointment earlier this week had only strengthened her resolve to be a good mom to this baby that had been entrusted to her.
She only hoped Patrick signed the divorce papers Ben was filing for her without contesting so they could have a quiet divorce. Jessie hadn’t asked for anything, hoping it would hurry the process along. But deep down, she knew he wouldn’t sign them. Patrick would not let her go easily.
Unfortunately, she had to declare in the paperwork that she was pregnant. It also meant she would have to go to court to have the divorce finalized. But Ben had assured her a judge could not deny the divorce just because she was pregnant.
She’d taken her black journal with her to her appointment with Ben, and her throat tightened—nearly blocking her airway—when she handed it to him.
His jaw repeatedly clenched as he flipped through its pages. He didn’t even make it halfway through the book before closing it. “I’m sorry. I can’t read anymore. And I’m so sorry you had to endure all of that.”
He looked at her for a long moment as he gripped the book. “I know this won’t be easy to share with the judge, but this will help ensure you not only get your divorce, but that Patrick spends time in jail. As far as sole custody goes... We can’t file for that until after the baby is born.” He held up the book. “But I don’t think you’ll have much trouble, especially since he will do jail time for the charges currently pending against him. I’ll file the divorce paperwork and we’ll see how things play out with his other legal issues.”
Jessie only hoped the judicial system did its job before Patrick found her again.
She pressed on her clay, making the cylinder wider and shorter. Pushing her index and middle fingers down into the center, she watched the clay spread outward, creating a dip that widened to a bowl. With the gentle pressure of her fingers on the inside and outside of the bowl, she raised the sides. Her wrist dropped a little, and instantly, the bowl sagged on one side, then the whole thing toppled.
Robert laughed, and she scowled at him. “I’m sorry. That just makes my heart feel good since, you know, I threw that rock and missed by a mile.”
“Maybe you should go practice.” She tilted her head toward the door.
Robert’s voice lowered. “No way. Watching your face while you create is a lot more fun than throwing a ball.”
She tried to ignore the seductive tone of his voice. “What do you mean?”
He bent down, putting both hands on either side of the bowl that surrounded the pottery wheel. The motion brought his face so close to hers, she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. She bit her lip and dug her fingers into the clay to keep herself from reaching out and pulling him closer.
Robert smiled. “You pucker up your lips when you’re focusing on centering the clay. Then, when you finally have it centered, you get a triumphant smile. Did you know when you raise it up you raise your eyebrows too?”
“Stop it. I do not.”
“Yes, you do. And your eyes close when you’re really getting in the zone.”
