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.”
“Right.” Lauren patted her arm. “And instead of wasting four years in New York, you would’ve wasted your entire life imagining it. You’re fine, Veronica. You’re starting over. Welcome to your new life.”
Her new life. Wow.
Okay. She could deal with that. New York and everything that had come before it...that was her past. Wasn’t that what she would tell anyone who wrote to her? You made mistakes. Learn from it and move on.
Move on. That was a little too general to be number three on her list, but it was still good advice.
“You’re right,” she said. “Thank you. To my new life.” She raised her drink and took a hearty gulp.
“No fair,” Lauren complained. “We’re all out and Isabelle scared the waiter away.”
“Let’s order dessert,” Veronica said, sniffing back the last of her tears. “And another round. It’s my birthday.”
“Hell, yeah, it is,” Isabelle said.
Veronica had just decided on a fancy version of strawberry shortcake that included liquor in the recipe when her phone beeped. She dug it from her purse and made a little wish before she looked. It paid off.
Happy birthday, Dear Veronica.
It was from Gabe. Her cheeks might have been sore from laughing but that didn’t stop her from grinning with delight. She glanced up to see her friends still studying the dessert menu.
Thank you, she wrote. Hope you had a great day.
The phone buzzed immediately back. Can I call you?
Her heart picked up speed. I’m still out.
Of course. Maybe later?