Page 92 of The Husband Hour
It was still dark, but she padded down to the kitchen, expecting to find Lauren getting ready for her daily run. Surprisingly, her bedroom door was still closed. Stephanie’s door, however, was open. And it was obvious her bed hadn’t been slept in.
An hour later, nursing her second cup of coffee at the kitchen table and waiting until it was a decent time to call Howard, Beth heard the patio door slide open.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Jesus! You scared the shit out of me,” Stephanie said.
“Should I even bother asking where you’ve been all night?”
“I was with Neil, obviously. So you can officially stop pushing Lauren on him.”
Beth sighed. “Well, I hope you’re happy now.”
“Do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you really hope I’m happy? Because that would be a switch. I can’t remember the last time you thought about anything other than Lauren.”
“That’s unfair, Stephanie. Lauren suffered a tragedy. If I’ve been more focused on her—”
“It’s always been this way! Dad’s the only one who gives a shit about me and now you’ve driven him away too!”
Beth was momentarily stunned into silence.
Stephanie headed upstairs. Beth followed her, saying in a loud whisper, “I’m going to Philly today. Overnight. I’m taking Ethan with me.”
Stephanie turned around. “Why?”
“Why am I going to Philly?”
“No, why are you taking Ethan?”
“Because I can’t in good conscience leave him here to be ignored for hours at a time.”
“I resent that,” Stephanie said.
“Well, if you don’t start making some changes, one day your son is going to wake up and resent you.”
It was the first time in four years that Lauren had overslept. She woke up thinking about the coach’s interview as if it had been replaying in her mind all night long. But hockey culture demands resilience. Guys feel pressure to prove their toughness, and, frankly, they know they can be replaced. Especially the rookies.
She laced her sneakers, figuring she still had time to get in a quick run before work.
Outside, a mist settled around her. Lauren jogged in place on the boardwalk, taking deep breaths. It’s okay, she told herself, launching into the run. Her legs found their familiar rhythm, her feet hitting the boards in steady repetition.
The disease evolves in stages…you start to see the patient exhibit rage, impulsivity. He most likely will suffer depression.
Lauren ran faster, willing herself not to think about the end. To think, instead, about the beginning.
Ojai, California. Christmas in the Southern California mountains.
“Laur, are you dressed? Come out here.”
Rory on the hotel-room terrace watching the sun set. In the background, the Topatopa Mountains were bathed in pink light.
“Incredible, right?” he said, patting the chair next to him. She sat and he put his arm around her.
She nodded. It was breathtaking.
