“I haven't told him. I haven't actually seen much of him in the past few days. We… uh… I think I have a little problem.” Mary Stuart frowned in concern and listened. “He… uh… went to Palm Springs for a few days, and he thinks maybe we need a break this summer. He says he's going to Europe, while I take the kids to Wyoming.”

“Is he going on a religious pilgrimage, or is there something you're not saying?”

“No.” Tanya put her hamburger down, and looked at her old friend soberly. “I think there's something he's not saying yet, but he will. He just doesn't know it yet. He thinks he's still trying to make the decision. But I know the signs. He's already made it.”

“What makes you think he has?” Mary Stuart felt sorry for her, but she was not surprised either. Tanya's lifestyle inevitably caused a lot of casualties, and both of them knew that. But as she talked about it, Tanya looked disappointed and unhappy.

“I think he has, because I'm not as young as the doctor makes me look.” Mary Stuart smiled at her comment. “I've seen a lot of fatalities. He's already gone, he just doesn't know it. He can't take this pressure anymore, apparently, the lawsuits, the tabloids, the attacks, the slurs, the embarrassment, the humiliation. I can't say I blame him.”

“Aren't you forgetting something? What about the good stuff?” Mary Stuart asked gently.

“I guess it kind of gets lost in the shuffle. You forget about that. I forget about it too, so I guess I can't really blame him. The only time I really like what I do is when I'm singing… when I'm recording, or in concert and I'm singing my guts out. I don't even care about the applause… it's just the music… and he doesn't get that, I do.

“He gets all the shit. I get the glory. I suspect he's sick of it. There was a story in the paper this week by some ex-employee we hired last year, the guy claims I came on to him, and then fired him when he wouldn't screw me. You know, your usual nice, homespun little story. It made the front page and embarrassed Tony with all his friends. I think it was kind of the last straw for him.”

“What about you? Where does that leave you?” Mary Stuart looked genuinely worried. They had worried about each other for years, even if they didn't talk all the time, or see each other constantly, or even live in the same city. But they both knew that they were always there for each other. “You're telling me that it's getting too hot for him, so he's leaving?”

“He hasn't said that yet, but he's going to. Right now, he wants ‘time off’ so he can go to Europe. Which leaves me taking his kids to a ranch in Wyoming, but that's okay too. I really love them.”

“I know you do. But I'm not exactly impressed by their father's chivalry and devotion.”

“So what else is new?” Tanya smiled ruefully, and squeezed Mary Stuart's hands. “What about you? How's Bill doing these days? Has it been as hard on him as it has on you?” It was written all over her face how much she'd been through.

“I suppose so.” She shrugged. “We don't talk about it much. There's nothing to say. You can't undo what happened.” Or the things they had said to each other about it.

Tanya dared to ask her something then that she had wondered for the past year, and she suspected was the root of the problem. “Does he blame you?” It was barely more than a whisper, but even in the crowded restaurant Mary Stuart heard her.

“Probably,” she sighed. “I suppose we both blame ourselves for not seeing what was happening. But I know in the beginning he felt that I should have seen it coming. I should have been able to foresee disaster before it struck us. Bill bestows magical qualities on me, when it suits him. In any case, I suppose I blame myself too. It doesn't change anything. The delusion is that you can turn the clock back, and stop it from happening, if you assign the blame to the right person. But it doesn't work that way. It doesn't matter. It's over.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, and Tanya was instantly sorry she had brought up the subject.

“I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said anything…” What was the point now? Tanya was silently berating herself for being so stupid, as Mary Stuart dabbed at her eyes, and looked reassuringly at Tanya.

“It's all right, Tan. It doesn't matter. It hurts all the time anyway. Like a severed limb, it never stops, sometimes it's sharper than others, sometimes it's really unbearable, sometimes you can live with it, but it never stops aching. You didn't make it hurt. It's with me every moment.”

“You can't live like that forever,” Tanya said, looking devastated for her. It was clearly the worst thing that had happened to any of them, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Apparently you can live like that forever,” Mary Stuart answered her desperately. “People do it all the time, they live with constant pain of all kinds, arthritis, rheumatism, indigestion, cancer, and then there's this, the destruction of the heart, the death of hope, the loss of everything you ever cared about, it's a challenge to the soul,” she said, looking agonized, but so strong that Tanya almost couldn't bear it.

“Why don't you come to Wyoming with me and the kids?” she suddenly blurted out. It was the only thing she could think of to help her.

Mary Stuart smiled at her. “I'm going to Europe to see Alyssa, otherwise I'd love to. I love to ride.” And then she frowned, confused by an old memory, and grateful to get off an unbearably painful subject. “I didn't think you did though.”

“I don't.” Tanya laughed. “I hate it. But this is supposed to be a fabulous place, and I thought it would be good for the kids.” She looked awkward for a moment then. “I thought Tony would like it too, but he's not coming. But the kids are twelve, fourteen, and seventeen now, and they all love to ride. I thought it would be perfect for them.”

“I'm sure it will be. Are you going to ride too?” Mary Stuart asked her.

“Depends how cute the wranglers are,” Tanya said, sounding very Texas and they both laughed. “I think I'm the only girl in Texas who always hated horses.” But Mary Stuart remembered she rode well, she just didn't like it.

“Maybe Tony will change his mind and go with you.”

“I doubt it,” Tanya said quietly. “It sounds like he's made his mind up. Maybe the time away will do him good.” But Tanya didn't really think it would make a difference, and Mary Stuart was silently of the same opinion. Things definitely seemed to be on their way downhill between Tanya and her husband.

They chatted on for a little while, about Alyssa, and Tanya's next movie, and the concert tour she had signed on for the following winter. Mary Stuart could only imagine how rigorous it would be, and she admired Tanya for doing it. And then they talked about the show she was going to be on the next morning. It was the number one daytime talk show in the country.

“I had to come to New York for that meeting anyway, so I thought I might as well do it. I hope to hell they don't want to talk about the lawsuit. My agent already told them I didn't want to, for whatever that's worth.” And then she remembered an invitation she wanted to extend to Mary Stuart. “I have a friend who opened in a play here last week. They said it's pretty good, and she got great reviews. They're going to run it through the summer and see how it does, and if they do okay, they're going to run it through next winter. I'll get you tickets if you want. But she's giving a party tomorrow night, and I said I'd go. If you want to come, I'd love to take you. Would Bill enjoy something like that? He's welcome too, I just didn't know if it was his cup of tea, or if he'd be too busy.” Or if he was currently speaking to Mary Stuart.

“You sweetheart.” Mary Stuart smiled at her, Tanya always brought so much sunshine and excitement into her life. It reminded her of over twenty years before. It was always Tanya who rallied everyone, got them all going on some crazy project she had, or made everyone have fun, sometimes in spite of themselves. But she couldn't see Bill being willing to do that. They hadn't gone out in months, except for business purposes, and he was working late every night now, getting ready for London. He was leaving in two weeks for the rest of the summer, but she hoped that at the end of her trip, with Alyssa, they would spend a weekend at Claridge's in London, visiting him. But he had already told her he would be too busy to have them stay any longer. And after that, Mary Stuart was flying back to the States. He said he'd let her know how the trial was going, and if she could come over again to visit. In some ways, it didn't sound too much different to her from what Tony had said to Tanya. And perhaps it wasn't. They both seemed to be losing the men in their lives, and had no way to stop them from going.

“I'm not sure Bill would be able to join us. He's working late every night before he leaves for London for the trial. But I'll ask him.”

“Would you want to come without him? She's a nice girl,” and then Tanya looked embarrassed. She was acting as though she was an unknown actress. “I should probably tell you it's Felicia Davenport, so you don't faint when you meet her. I've known her for years, and she's really terrific.”

“You disgusting name-dropper.” Mary Stuart was laughing at her, she was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, and she was taking her first stab at Broadway. Mary Stuart had just read about it in the New York Times on Sunday. “It's a good thing you told me before I met her. I would have died, you're right. You dummy.” They were both laughing as they left the restaurant, and Tanya told her she could let her know about the party in the morning. It was at Felicia's rented town house in the East Sixties.

Tanya dropped Mary Stuart off at her apartment then, and she promised to watch Tanya on the show the next morning, and she hugged her tightly as she left her. “Thanks for tonight, Tan. It's so good to see you.” She hadn't even realized how brittle and lonely she was until she saw her friend. She and Bill had barely spoken to each other all year, and she felt like a plant that hadn't been watered. But seeing Tanya had been like standing in a rainstorm getting revitalized again. And she was smiling when she walked into the building with a spring in her step, and nodded at the doorman.

“Good evening, Mrs. Walker,” he said, and tipped his hat to her, as he always did. The elevator man told her Bill had come in just a few minutes before her. And when she let herself in, she found him in the den, putting away some papers. She was in good spirits, and she smiled at him, as he turned to face her. And he looked startled to see her expression, as though they had both forgotten what it was like to have a good time, to be with friends, to talk to each other.

“Where were you?” He looked surprised. She looked like an entirely different person, and he couldn't imagine where she'd been at that hour, in blue jeans.

“Tanya Thomas is in town, we just had dinner. It was great to see her.” She felt like a drunk in church, as she grinned at him, and seemed to have suddenly forgotten the solemnity of the last year, the silence that had sprung up like a wall between them. She felt suddenly too loud, too jovial, and surprisingly awkward with her husband. “I'm sorry to come home so late… I left you a note…” She faltered, feeling herself shrink as she looked at him. His eyes were so cold, his face so expressionless. The handsome, chiseled features that she had loved for so long had turned to stone in the past year, along with everything else about him. He had taken so much distance from her that she couldn't even see him anymore, much less find him. All she could hear was an echo of what had been.

“I didn't see the note.” It was a statement more than an accusation. And as she looked at him, she often found herself wishing he weren't still so handsome. He was fifty-four years old, and he was well over six feet tall, with an athletic physique, and a long lean body. He had piercing blue eyes, which had looked like ice for a year now.

“I'm sorry, Bill,” she said quietly. She felt as though she had spent a lifetime apologizing to him for something she should never have been blamed for. But she knew he would never forgive her. “I left the note in the kitchen.”

“I ate at the office.”

“How's it going?” she asked, as he put the rest of his papers in his briefcase.

“Very well, thanks,” he said, as though talking to a secretary or a stranger. “We're almost ready. It's going to be a very interesting trial,” he said, and then turned off the light in the den, as though to dismiss her. He was carrying his briefcase to their bedroom. It was something he would never have done a year before, and it was a small thing, but it no longer mattered. “I think we're actually going to leave for London a little early.” He had said nothing to her until now. He had just made his plans, and that was it, as though he no longer had to consult her. She wanted to know what “early” meant in this case, but she didn't dare ask him. It would probably just annoy him.