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She took a deep breath. “I never felt like I fit in here. Not with my family. Not in school. And I thought I’d fit in in New York. That people would get me there. But it was lonely and scary and isolating. I hated it. I moved back home, and I now live in a building that my dad owns and I work at a job that my dad got me. And the truth is that people write to me with their problems, but I’ve never even been able to figure out my own.”
She took another deep breath. Gulped in air. When she looked up again, both of her friends were still staring at her. She shouldn’t have told them.
“Ladies,” the cute waiter said from behind her. “Care to take a look at the dessert menu?”
“Can I get a cosmo?” Veronica said too loudly.
Lauren held up a hand. “Leave the dessert menus, please.”
He passed the menus out, and then they were alone again, both women watching her. She hoped the bartender wasn’t busy. She hoped the waiter would reappear within seconds.
Isabelle suddenly leaned forward and took Veronica’s hand. “Life is never what you plan for it to be,” she said. “You know that, right?”
Veronica shrugged.
Isabelle squeezed her hand. “I was going to be a doctor. I was engaged to the man of my dreams. I’d never set one foot out of place my whole life. I had everything planned. And then I lost it all. I failed at family and love and school and a career. I stole someone’s Social Security number and lived under an assumed identity and hid in the mountains for fifteen years. And last year I almost ran again. I had a fucking bag full of cash and I was ready to disappear. So don’t tell me how much you screwed things up, V. I almost went to prison.”
Lauren was nodding. “Yeah. I actually did everything I planned to do. School, career, marriage, a kid. And I was terrible at it. I hated being a wife. I was the mom who always forgot to send lunch money. My version of fleeing New York and returning home was getting a divorce and starting over again. You’re not a failure, Veronica. The things you’ve tried, the things you’ve failed at, the dreams you worked toward, all of that is what makes you good at what you do now.”
Veronica frowned. “I don’t see how that can be. Maybe if I’d gone through all that and had it figured out now...”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You’re doing fine.”
“I’m not! I’m just...pretending.”
“Pretending what?” Lauren pressed.
She was going to tell them. She even wanted to. But how could they understand? They’d both been having sex for decades. They’d both had normal relationships. Hell, Isabelle had even managed to take lovers while she was hiding from the feds in a mountain cabin. Veronica couldn’t manage to get laid when she was living in the middle of a city of eight million.
“Just everything,” she finally said.
Lauren shook her head. “You’re good at what you do, Veronica. If your life had lined up for you and you’d done everything perfectly, how would you be able to help other people with their problems? How would you even understand them? You’d just tell them to buck up and try harder. But you don’t do that. You see people’s problems through the lens of someone who’s fucked a few things up. You sympathize. You feel for them. You get it. That’s your gift. Your dad might have gotten you this job, but he’s not the one who made you good at it. That’s all you.”
Her throat was thick again. She had to pull her hand away from Isabelle’s grip, because Veronica was afraid that small touch would make her cry.
The waiter appeared and presented her drink with a flourish.
“Thank you,” Isabelle said. “Now shoo. We need a minute.” She leaned closer but didn’t take Veronica’s hand again. “Lauren and I both screwed up our lives, too. We both felt like complete failures. And look at us now. We’re fucking spectacular.”
Veronica choked out a laugh even if it did sound more like a sob. She looked up at Isabelle in her beautiful turquoise shirt that clashed with the streak of lime green in her hair. “You have paint in your hair, Isabelle,” she whispered.
Isabelle shrugged. “I’m still fucking spectacular.”
Veronica laughed again. Two hot tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Shit. I know you are.”
“I was hiding from the feds and I started sleeping with a US marshal. So please don’t pretend you’re more screwed up than I am. I clearly win at that game.”
“She’s got a point,” Lauren said. “You’re obviously smarter than Isabelle ever was.”
“Hey!” Isabelle smacked Lauren’s shoulder, but Lauren only laughed.
Veronica grabbed a napkin and carefully dabbed at her face. “I can’t believe you guys are actually making me feel better.”
Lauren snorted. “Look, you went after your dreams. It didn’t work out. You’re only twenty-seven. You’ll find new dreams. But when you’re answering that woman, I guess you need to consider how you’d feel about yourself if you’d never tried.”
How would she feel if she’d never tried? She’d spent so many years beating herself up for her decisions that she’d never wondered about that. What if she’d stayed in Wyoming? What if she’d gotten a job in Jackson or Cheyenne and settled in? The idea squeezed her chest until she couldn’t breathe.
She grabbed her drink and took a sip. Then another. She nodded. “You’re right. If I hadn’t gone, the dream would have stayed. It would’ve gotten bigger.”
