Page 86 of One Last Shot

“Then fight, girl,” Sierra says. “Be unapologetically you. Be a badassandin love. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“To being a badass in love,” Jackson says, raising her glass. We all follow suit, and I smile, relief flooding through me because it all feels more possible now.

* * *

Dinner is delicious and over too quickly. Because Sierra and Beau’s relationship is so new, and Jackson and Nate didn’t live here when Sierra and Beau got together, this is the first time my girlfriends and I have hung out with their significant others all together as a group. That sense of hope that was ignited with our toast earlier has me wishing even more that someday Sasha can be a part of this. I think he’d like my friends and get along with their men.

“I’m headed to Mammoth next month,” Josh says in response to a question Nate asks him about skiing. The two have never known each other very well since Josh’s departure from the National Ski Team is what opened a spot for Nate. Like nearly all the relationships stitched together around this table, Jackson is the common thread.

Lauren pushes her chair back so abruptly that all six pairs of eyes swing toward her. “I’m going to grab some more wine,” she says, and she turns to head into the kitchen.

I’m not quite sure what I saw in her eyes as she turned away, but it has me worried. “I’ll help her,” I tell my friends before following Lauren into the kitchen.

I find her squatting so she’s sitting on her heels, staring at the unopened wine fridge. Her forehead is resting against the glass door, and I watch as her ribcage expands and contracts with a few deep breaths.

Her head whips up to look over her shoulder as I approach, then she sighs with visible relief before saying, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who did you think it would be?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s you.” Her words are a shock. Out of all my friends, I have the least in common with Lauren and I don’t know her quite as well as I know Jackson and Sierra. We’re friends, but I don’t know that we would ever have been close if it hadn’t been for Jackson.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I reach my hand out and pull her up to a standing position.

“Nothing.” She pauses. “I mean, it just gets lonely, you know? I’m homeall the timewith the twins. Josh is retired from skiing but still acts like it’s his job to travel to every ski resort on the planet. He’s gone on some big trip at least once a month, and I’m stuck here. I don’t have any family here, and even though Josh’s parents are here, his mom is like the queen of the ice queens, you know?”

I nod, even though I’ve never met Josh’s mom. This is not the first time Lauren has mentioned her, and she sounds quite difficult. Instead of being the doting grandmother Lauren had hoped for, her mother-in-law is hypercritical of Lauren as a mom.

“And now that Jackson and Sierra have both moved away,” she continues, “and you’re going to LA for a few months ... I just don’t have anyone now except for Josh.”

“I’m sorry, Lauren,” I say.

“No, please don’t feel bad about chasing your dreams. And don’t feel bad for me about this situation. I’m the one who jumped into this marriage after knowing Josh for what, a few weeks? I left my whole world behind for him. And I didn’t regret it one bit, at first. But now that we have kids ...” she says, “it’s like I can feel him pulling away and I don’t know what I can do about it. He’s gone a lot, and I have no idea who any of these people are that he travels with. I want to hold on tightly, make him stay here and spend time with his family. But I feel like the more tightly I hold on, the more he pulls away.”

“Lauren, I had no idea.” I wrap my arms around her, and I can tell how hard she’s trying not to cry by the way she holds her breath through our hug.

“This is all so new,” she says. “Having kids. Feeling my heart grow larger to accommodate how much I love them, and Josh, and our life together. Watching him grow distant while all this is happening ... we should be enjoying this time together, watching our girls grow and hit their milestones, reveling in the family we’ve created. Having my expectations be so out of line with my reality is hard.”

“Have you talked to him? Told him how you’re feeling?”

“Every time I try to bring it up,” she says, her voice dropping even lower to make sure they can’t hear us in the other room, “he makes it seem like this is about me being insecure and clingy. He thinks that me not wanting him to go on these ski trips every few weeks is ridiculous. He reminds me that he used to be gone for months at a time when he was competing on the National Ski Team, and he clearly doesn’t understand why this is different. But that was hisjob, and we didn’t have kids.”

I can’t argue the second point, but the first is kind of wrong. Josh is a ski pro. These trips he takes are him traveling with other pros, representing the brands that sponsor him. As someone who used to be in sports marketing, I know Lauren understands that this is what pays their bills. I’m sure Josh has a decent amount of savings, but this huge house they built had to have cost a fortune, and bills still need to be paid.

“Now he’schoosingto leave his family like twenty-five percent of the time just for fun, and when he is here ...” She pauses. “Sometimes it seems like his head is somewhere else.”

I am both shocked by this revelation, and shocked she’s tellingme.I have no experience in this area, no advice to offer.

“Have you talked to anyone else about how you’re feeling?”

“Like a therapist?” she asks, then lets out a bitter laugh. “When would I have time to do that? Even when he’s home, Josh is useless with the girls.”

I think about the way he was hovering near her earlier. “Josh has always seemed so protective of you, like he just wants to make sure you’re happy.”

“Yeah, it always felt that way to me too. I’m not sure what’s changed, but now it feels like he’s becoming controlling and absent at the same time.”

“Lauren,” I say, bowing my head so she won’t see the frown. How has she been going through this and hasn’t told any of us? “What can I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, really. He’s the one who should be doing something differently, and until I figure out how to have a talk with him about this that doesn’t result in him telling me I’m being clingy and desperate, or me telling him he’s being controlling ... there isn’t much anyone can do.”

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