PERRIN? THIS is Evelyn Vincent. Trisha’s mom.” “Yes, of course.” Jenny tucked the phone against her ear and turned off the heat under the vegetables she’d been stir-frying. It was Sunday evening, the end of a restful weekend during which she had gone to an aerobics class, taken a bike ride, read the Sunday Globe from beginning to end and reviewed her notes for the prosecution’s final day of testimony. Whenever thoughts of Luke had intruded she’d managed them, just as her therapist had taught her to do: “It is normal for certain thoughts to cause you distress,” Dr. Slater had explained. “The key to managing your distress is to manage your thoughts. Master them. Focus on that which gives you strength, and use your strength to conquer that which upsets you.” Jenny focused on Luke’s companionship, on the fact that he could kiss her cheek or touch her arm without destroying her equilibrium. She focused on his claim that if all she could give him was her friendship, he would accept it.
