She went straight home after Starbucks, and didn't plan to venture out again until she had to go back to work. Unfortunately, she was out of milk – and eggs, bread, mayo and most other food products, including the all-important ice cream. That meant that she had to leave her apartment and walk to the corner market two blocks away. Normally, she enjoyed this errand. An opportunity to get out, take a walk, be neighborly. It had been a routine of living in the city; and it made her feel grown-up and metropolitan.

This time, however, going out into public happened to be uncomfortable. She felt as though everyone she passed looked at her oddly. It seemed as if they were aware that there was a stone statue of her naked body out there for the world to see. Who knew who might have seen it? It was unlikely that her 78th street neighborhood traveled down to 5th avenue on a regular basis, but not impossible.

Ess just felt exposed. Rather or not the people she passed had seen it, the idea that they could in fact see it, rankled her. She felt self-conscious and a little debased.

So, after she returned to her apartment from her uneasy trip to the store, she barricaded herself into her little home for the remainder of the weekend. She even screened her phone calls, and really didn't want to talk to anyone.

Tuesday finally rolled around, and Ess left for her job extra early, so that she wouldn't have to linger at the office finishing her work after hours; and could make it home in time to listen to Manda attempt to deal with the La Donne on 5th gallery for possession of those atrocities with her face. And it was only her face, she reminded herself once again. That naked body was so not her.

Actually, it appeared more slender and graceful than her – but that wasn't the point. The point was that some guy thought of her naked, and made it a stone reality. Then, he had the audacity to display it for the whole world to see. Anger flared up in her every time she thought of it. That bad man. That dirty man!

Ess sat on the couch, hands clasped and white knuckled, waiting while Manda worked her magical no-nonsense bullshit on the phone. Manda, albeit she was Ess's polar opposite in attitude and street smarts, had been her best friend since they met in their first year of college. They were oil and water, but it worked for them. Manda always attracted the guys, and Ess always provided a listening ear and relationship advice.

The tall, beautiful dark blonde boasted her bargaining skills quite often, and frequently mentioned one of her greatest accomplishments. She came back from Cancun once (where she had dumped a former boyfriend) with a beautiful silver necklace adorned with fire agate gemstones, which she claimed to 'pay pennies-on-the-dollar for'. Manda gifted it to Ess, because she knew it would go so well with her eyes; and Manda mentioned the 'once-in-a-lifetime deal' every time Ess wore it.

This current negotiation with the art gallery, though, wasn't going so well.

"Oh really? Well, who is this buyer?" Manda demanded in what Ess called her 'patented Manda tone'. "Well, maybe I want to counter the offer. How much did this guy propose?"

Oh, no, Ess thought, someone else was actually interested in the statues.

"What?" cried Manda, "Is the guy insane? Michelangelo's David isn't worth that much!"

Ess knew this had to be bad.

After a moment Manda spoke again, "The David is priceless? Whatever. Everything has a price." She paused, and then, "Yes, I am done with you. Thanks for nothing." She pressed the off button on the phone as hard as she could. Then, she turned to Ess with a look of mingled anger and apology.

"Well?" asked Ess. She heard Manda's half of the conversation, and the outcome seemed obvious, but she still clung to a tiny thread of hope until Manda's answer could cut it once and for all.

"Ridiculous!" cried Manda, "You wouldn't believe it. There's this collector who has a 'keen interest in this artists works'." She used the double finger quote gesture to emphasize the words of the person on the phone. "Apparently this guy has a large private collection already and pays good money for them."

"Private collection?" Ess replied. This had pros and cons. On the one hand, some guy would have her effigies in his house where he could look at them freely all he wanted; but on the other hand, at least they wouldn't be available for public viewing. Better one or two sets of eyes than hundreds or thousands.

"Yeah," continued Manda, "I don't know who's more sick and demented: an obsessive artist who sculpts naked obscenities of a girl he met twenty years ago, or a man that collects the art of an obsessive artist who sculpts naked obscenities of a girl he met twenty years ago."

"So," queried Ess, "How much did this guy offer for the sculptures?" She was just curious. Maybe she could still counter the offer. Maybe Manda was just being cheap.

"You wouldn't believe it," replied Manda.

"Try me?" Ess's face contorted into worried hope. That thread hadn't quite been cut yet.

"More than you make in a year." Manda retorted. Then seeing the ashen look on Ess's face, she continued more gently, "Eighty grand for all four statues. According to the guy on the phone, the artist stipulated that they must be purchased as a single collection if they were to be sold at all. So even if you took out a loan for twenty thousand dollars for just the nude one, he wouldn't sell it to you."

Snap went that imaginary thread. Ess looked defeated. They were definitely out of her league. It sucked to be poor. Not that she could actually be defined as poor, but her means of living were kept relatively small in the excess spending department.

"But," Manda sought to lift her friend's spirits if she could, "The gallery said that the buyer had driven a hard bargain just to get the works. The artist hadn't been readily willing to part with them. The guy paid premium. At least you know you're worth a lot of money."

"Great," Ess said at that, "I sound like a hooker."

Manda looked shocked. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"I know," Ess laughed, "But it was funny. Besides, sick and demented artists have to eat, too."

Manda laughed, in turn. "With that price tag, the guy will be eating fillet mignon for a year. Starving artist, my ass."

Suddenly, Ess began to feel a little bit better. Just knowing that the statue was going to be locked away in a private collection, and being able to joke about the whole ordeal began to ease her concern. This had to be the right path to getting over it.

"You know what?" Ess stated. "I feel like going out to dinner. What do you think?"

This sounded like good news to Manda. Her friend was coming back around. "Sounds great. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know." Ess thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Do you think Denny's has filet mignon?"

Manda snorted at that, which made them both laugh. Laughter really is good medicine, Ess thought, as she grabbed her jacket and slid back into her shoes.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dr. Roden had a very small office, but that gave him the perfect opportunity to make it cozy. Since he had started seeing patients out of his own practice six years ago, he actually noticed an improvement in communication with those that had followed him from his last position. When he had worked for the state, his old quarters were all angles and stiffness. The fluorescent lights were glaring, the thirty-year-old fake leather chairs were a sickening shade of orange, and the walls were a dirty canary yellow that clashed with the ochre linoleum floor. Roden had never gotten used to it during the eleven years he met with patients there. State funding was very frugal; and his salary had been proof of that, as well.