The Ranch

Chapter 10

The day Mary Stuart left New York she stood for a last time in her living room and looked around her apartment. The shades were drawn, the curtains were closed, the air-conditioning was off, and the apartment was slowly warming up. For the past week there had been a tremendous heat wave. She had talked to Alyssa in Holland the night before, she was having a fantastic time traveling with five friends, and Mary Stuart suspected she was having her first really serious romance. She was happy for her, and still more than a little sad to have missed their opportunity to travel around Europe together.

She had spoken to Bill several times too. He was working hard, and he sounded startled when she told him she was going to Wyoming. He couldn't understand why and thought she should go to Martha's Vineyard, or the Hamptons to stay with their friends, as she had on the Fourth. He had never really approved of her friendship with Tanya Thomas. And he didn't see why she wanted to go to a dude ranch. He never thought she had any particular affinity for horses. He said all the things which, years before, would have made her reconsider, but this time did not affect her. She wanted to spend two weeks at the ranch with Tanya. She wanted to be with her friend, to talk to her, and look up at the mountains in the morning. She suddenly realized that she needed to get away and reevaluate her life, and if he didn't understand that, then that was his problem. He was in London for two months and didn't want her with him, and he had no right now to make her feel uncomfortable about what she was doing. He had given up that right when he had told her he didn't want her in London with him. He had given up a lot of things that year, intentionally and otherwise, and she wanted to do some serious thinking about it. She couldn't imagine coming back to their relationship the way it had been, the way it had become. She couldn't live in the airless, loveless, joyless atmosphere he had created. And even though the night before he left she had caught a glimpse of him again, there was no promise that she would find him again at the end of the summer. Or ever again for that matter.

She was beginning to realize that what they had once had was gone, very probably forever. And she doubted if what had been left in its place was worth keeping. She couldn't believe what she was thinking. But she couldn't imagine going back to him, couldn't think about living with him that way again, never speaking, holding, touching. They had lost their dreams, their lives, more than just Todd had died. In many ways, she felt they had. And going to Wyoming was a way of leaving what had been, and trying to figure out what was still possible between them. And for an odd moment, as she looked around, she felt as though she were leaving their old life forever. It would never be the same again. She would never come back to the man who had left her so bereft and so abandoned for the past year. Either she would come back to the man she had once known, or she wasn't coming back at all. And in either case she wanted to think about whether or not to tell Bill to sell the apartment. But nothing was ever going to be the same again, nor had it been for the past year, and she knew it.

The prospect of being on her own again at her age was a frightening one. But the thought of being alone with him, in the tomb he had created for both of them, was an even worse fate. She walked down the long hall, and stopped for a long moment in front of the room that had been Todd's. The curtains were gone, the bedspreads were out being cleaned. It had all been put away, and there was nothing left of him. What she still had was in her heart and her memories. He was free now.

She picked her suitcase up again and walked slowly down the hall, thinking about him… and about Bill… and Alyssa, how happy they had once been, and how different it all was now. The cruel hand of fate, with a quick flick of the wrist, the dream was over. It had all ended so quickly. It was strange to think about it now. She felt as though she had been treading water in icy seas for a long time, she had almost drowned, but she was beginning to move forward again, still frozen, still numb, injured and bruised, but she was beginning to think she might not drown after all. There was the very faintest chance now that she might make it. And as she stood in the doorway with the keys in her hand, she wanted to say good-bye to someone… her husband… her child… the life they had once shared here. “I love you,” she said softly into the empty hall, not sure which of them she meant, Bill or Todd… or the life they had shared together. And then, with a last look, she closed the door softly behind her.

The doorman put her in a cab downstairs, and she reached Kennedy Airport just under an hour later. And the flight to Los Angeles was uneventful.

When Tanya left her house, it was in a flurry of activity. She had packed six bags, two boxes full of hats, and nine pairs of cowboy boots in assorted shades of alligator and lizard. Her housekeeper was putting bags of food on the bus, and she had bought a dozen new videos to keep them entertained on the trip across Nevada and Idaho. It was a long, boring ride, she'd been told, and she'd even brought half a dozen new scripts to look at. She was currently being offered parts in several new movies.

It was eleven o'clock and Mary Stuart's plane was coming in at twelve-thirty. But she wanted to make one last stop before they left, for a little more food at Gelsen's. The bus was already fully stocked, but she wanted to pick up just a few final goodies.

The driver was waiting patiently outside as she kissed her dog good-bye, thanked her housekeeper, reminded her about the security, grabbed her hat, her handbag, her address book, and ran up the steps of the bus, with her hair flying loose, looking sensational in a white T-shirt and skin-tight blue jeans, and her oldest pair of bright yellow cowboy boots. She had bought them in Texas on her sixteenth birthday, and they looked it. She had worn them all through college, and everyone who knew her knew how much she loved them.

“Thanks, Tom,” she said, waving to the driver as she got on, and he began slowly maneuvering the giant vehicle through her gates, and down her narrow driveway. The bus was huge, and it was divided into two huge rooms. A living room all done in teak and navy blue velvet, with comfortable easy chairs, two couches, and a long table that seated eight, and a series of small groups set for conversation. The back room was done in forest green, and transformed easily from another sitting room into a bedroom. And between the two was a large, functional kitchen, and a white marble bathroom. She had bought the bus years before when she had her first platinum record. It looked very much like a yacht, or a very large private plane, and it had been almost as expensive.

On the way, she and Mary Stuart would sleep in the bedroom, and they would park outside a motel, so they could get a room for Tom. And an elaborate alarm system would keep them safe. In some cases, Tanya took security along, but she felt that this time she wasn't likely to need it. She was looking forward to the trip, and to spending two whole days chatting with Mary Stuart. Driving ten-hour days, they should be able to reach Jackson Hole the following day in time for dinner.

They reached the airport ten minutes before Mary Stuart's plane, and Tanya was waiting at the gate in dark glasses and a black cowboy hat when Mary Stuart came off in jeans and a blazer, carrying a Vuitton tote bag. As usual, she looked immaculate, and as though someone had pressed her jacket on the plane, and her hair looked as though she'd just had a haircut.

“I wish I knew how you did that,” Tanya said, smiling at her, and then hugging her tight. “You always look so damn neat and clean.”

“It's congenital. My kids hate me for it. Todd always used to try and ‘mess me up,’ just so I'd look ‘normal.’ “She looked faintly apologetic, and arm in arm they walked toward the baggage claim, where Tanya's bus driver was waiting to help them. She stood a little to one side with her friend, and within less than a minute heads began turning, she saw a few people whispering, some shy smiles, and five minutes later a cluster of teenagers came over with a pen and some paper.

“May we have your autograph, Miss Thomas?” they asked, giggling and shoving each other. She was used to it, and she always signed when she was asked to. But she also knew that if they didn't move quickly then, she would be surrounded by fans in less than five minutes. She knew from experience that once she was recognized it was only a matter of moments before it became a mob scene. And she smiled over the kids at Mary Stuart, as her old friend watched her. As she signed the last piece of paper, she whispered to her, “We gotta go… it'll be crazy in a minute.” She said something to Tom, and Mary Stuart gave him her baggage stub and described her bag, she'd only brought one with her, and Tanya hustled her as quickly as she could toward the exit. But there was already a large group of women and young girls heading toward her, and two rough-looking guys grabbed her arm, and one of them shoved a pen in her face.

“Hey, Tanya, how ‘bout signing something for me, hey sweetheart, like your bra.” The two of them were laughing, thinking they were very amusing, and Tom, the bus driver, had been watching and came right over.

“Thanks, guys, another time… see ya…” and before Mary Stuart realized what had happened to them, they were out the door and across the pavement, right in front of the women who had been hurrying toward her. They zipped right by just as two women took her picture. But Tom had the key in his hand, and unlocked the bus, shoving Tanya ahead of him, and Mary Stuart just behind her. They were inside and the door was closed in a fraction of a second. But there was already the breathless feeling of having been stampeded. And it reminded Mary Stuart instantly of how difficult Tanya's life was. She had almost forgotten. It happened to her everywhere. The supermarket, the doctor, the movies. She couldn't go anywhere without attracting attention. No matter what she did to hide, they always found her.

“That was awful,” Mary Stuart said succinctly, as Tanya took two Cokes out of the fridge in the kitchen and handed her one through the doorway with a smile at her driver.

“You get used to it… almost… Thanks, Tom. That was very smooth.”

“Anytime.” He told her he was going back for Mary Stuart's bag, and reminded Tanya to keep the door locked.

“Hell, no, I thought I'd hang out in the doorway and sell tickets.” She grinned with her cowboy hat still on. In her hat and her boots, she looked very Texas.

“Be careful,” he warned again as he left, and the two women could see a small crowd forming on the sidewalk, taking pictures of the bus, and pointing to it, although they couldn't see into the bus and there was nothing to identify it. It was just a long, sleek, black bus with no markings. But they knew. Word had gotten out. They had seen her. And by the time Tom got back, there were fifty people outside, pushing and shoving and talking. They tried to stop him as he came in, wanting to push their way past him, but he was a powerful guy, and no one was going to get by him. He was on the bus, with Mary Stuart's bag, and the door was locked again before anyone could get near him.

“Jesus, the natives are aggressive today, aren't they?” Tanya said, watching the crowd outside. They still frightened her at times. It was scary to be so pursued, so devoured, so compulsively hunted. And as Mary Stuart watched her face, she was overwhelmed with pity.

“I don't know how you stand it,” Mary Stuart said softly, and then they both sat down, as the bus began rolling.

“Neither do I,” Tanya said as she put her Coke can down on a white marble table, “but you just do, I guess. It goes with the territory. It's just that no one really explains it to you when you grab that mike for the first time and sing your heart out. At first you think it's all about you and the music. But it isn't. After a while, it has nothing to do with that. You can have that anytime, all by yourself, out in a field, in the bathtub, anywhere you are… but it's all about the rest that comes with it. They eat you up, if you let them. They give you everything, their hearts, their minds, their souls, their bodies if you want them, and then they take yours, everything you got, and you never get it back again if you're not careful.” She knew whereof she spoke. She had fought long and hard to get where she was, and she had paid a high price for it, and given up parts of herself she knew she would never get back now. She had given trust and caring and love, and worked harder than anyone Mary Stuart had ever known, and in the end, she stood alone at the top of the mountain. It wasn't an easy place to be. Mary Stuart could only guess at it. But Tanya knew it.

“So how's it going?… How was the flight?… How's Alyssa?” Tanya asked, settling back in one of the big club chairs for the long drive to Winnemucca, Nevada, where they were sleeping.

“Alyssa's fine. She's in Holland, and she's in love. She sounds so happy it almost hurts to hear her. And Bill's fine too,” she volunteered, but her face saddened instantly as she said it. “He sounds very busy,” and he didn't want her with him, she thought. That said it all as far as she was concerned. She didn't say any more, but it was obvious that she was unhappy.

“How's that going, or should I ask?”

“I'm not sure.” She hesitated for a long moment, looking out the window. “I've been doing a lot of thinking.” And then she looked into her friend's eyes and remembered the endless confessions in Berkeley, the hours they spent talking about their lives and their dreams, and what they really wanted. All Tanya had wanted was to marry Bobby Joe. Mary Stuart had wanted a job and a great husband, and good children. She had married Bill two months after graduation, and for a while seemed to have everything she wanted. But she wasn't as sure now. “I'm not sure I want to go back after the summer,” she said softly, and Tanya looked startled.

“To New York?” She couldn't imagine her living in California. Tanya was her only friend there, and everything about her was so Eastern. It would have been a brave decision, but Mary Stuart shook her head at the question. Her answer shocked Tanya still further.

“No, to Bill. I don't know. Something happened when he left. It's as though he thinks he can do whatever he likes now. He has the option to do what he wants, to go to London for two months alone, even though I could have been there. The firm would even have paid for it, but he didn't want me. And yet I'm expected to be there for him, to run his home, to take his messages, to cook his dinner. But he no longer has to speak to me, or care for me, or take me anywhere. He's silently blaming me for killing Todd, or at least not stopping him from what he did. But Bill no longer acts married to me now. That's my punishment. I'm married, and he's not. Like a sentence in purgatory, and I've been letting him punish me because I felt so guilty. But a funny thing happened when I put Todd's things away, it freed me. I feel sad, I feel loss, I still feel terrible grief sometimes.” She had cried for him again the night before she left, and for her marriage as well. She had sensed before she left that she might never come back in quite the same way to their apartment. “But I don't feel as guilty. It wasn't my fault. It was terrible. But it was something Todd did. And no matter how terrible it was, or how foolish, even though I'm his mother, I couldn't have stopped him.”

“Do you really believe that?” Tanya asked, looking relieved. It was exactly what she had tried to tell her, but Mary Stuart hadn't been ready to hear it. Or maybe Tanya had started the process for her. She hoped so, as she listened.

“I believe it now,” Mary Stuart said quietly. “But I don't think Bill does. I think he's going to go on punishing me forever.” And then she looked out the window as they drove out of Los Angeles County, thinking of her husband. “We're not married to each other anymore, Tan. It's all over. I don't think he'd admit it if I asked him. But there's nothing left, and I think he knows it too. If there were, I'd be in London with him.”

“Maybe he just can't face you yet,” Tanya tried to say fairly, but she suspected Mary Stuart was right. What she had told her in New York had been a nightmare. The silence, the loneliness, the agony of his rejection. And even to Tanya the fact that he didn't want her in London with him told its own story.

“I don't think there's anything to go back to. It took me a long time to face that. I think it was especially hard for me because I used to think we had such a great marriage. More than twenty years isn't bad. And it was so good when it was good,” Mary Stuart said sadly. “I always thought we were so close and so happy. It seems amazing that a blow like that could end it all. You would think it would bring us closer.”

“I don't think it works like that,” Tanya said honestly. “Most marriages don't survive the death of children. People blame each other, or they just wither up inside. I don't know, but I've read a lot about it. I don't think what happened is surprising.”

“It's as if all those years before don't count at all. I thought it was like money in the bank, you store it up so that when you really need it you have it, and then when the roof fell in I found out our piggy bank was empty.” She smiled wistfully, but she had begun to make her peace with it, oddly enough only in the past few weeks. And she'd had a lot of time to think once he left for London. “I just don't think I could go back to what it was like last year, and I don't think we could ever fix it.”

“Would you try if he asked you to?” Tanya was curious. Like Mary Stuart, she had always thought they had a great marriage.

“I'm not sure,” Mary Stuart said cautiously. “I just don't know now. What we went through was so painful that I don't want to go back, I just want to go forward.” Tanya and she sat silently for a few minutes as they headed into the San Bernardino Mountains, and then Mary Stuart asked her a question. They were both stretched out on the couches by then, and Tanya had taken her hat and boots off. It was a great way to travel. “What's happening with Tony?”

“Not much. He called an attorney. Mine is taking care of it for me. It's all pretty predictable and relatively nasty. He wants the house in Malibu, and I won't give it to him. I bought it and put most of the money into it, and in the end I'll have to give him a bunch of money to keep it. And some other stuff. He took the Rolls, and he wants alimony and a settlement, and he'll probably get it. He says that my lifestyle caused him pain and suffering and he wants to get paid for it.” She shrugged, but it made Mary Stuart livid.

“You'd think he'd be embarrassed,” Mary Stuart said with a disapproving frown. She had always hated the things people did to Tanya. It was as though they thought it was all right because of who she was. Even Tony had given in to it finally. It was hard for anyone to remember she was a person, and harder still for people to resist just grabbing for what they wanted.

Tanya hated it too, but it was something she had long since understood and made her peace with. It was just what happened when you became that famous.

“Not much embarrasses him, or anyone else for that matter,” Tanya said, with her hands behind her head as she lay there. “That's just the way it is. Sometimes I think I'm used to it, and sometimes it makes me crazy. My lawyer keeps telling me that it's just money and not to let it upset me. But it's my money and my life, and I worked like a dog for it. I don't see why some guy, any guy, should just get to come along, sleep with you for a while, and then take half of what you've got. It's a hell of a price to pay for a couple of years in the sack with a guy who cheats anyway. What about my ‘pain and suffering’? I guess that's not the issue. We go to court next month, and the media will love it.”

“Will they be there?” Mary Stuart looked horrified. How could they do this to her? But they would, and they did, and they had, for nearly twenty years now.

“Of course they'll be there. Courtrooms are open to the press and TV. First Amendment, remember?” She looked cynical, but she knew what went with the trappings of her business.

“That's not First Amendment, that's bullshit, and you know it.”

“Tell it to the judge,” Tanya said, and crossed her ankles. She looked glorious, but there was no one there to see it. This was a rare bit of privacy for her, and she trusted Tom, the driver. He had driven for her for years, and was the soul of discretion. He had a wife and four kids, and never told anyone who he worked for. Sometimes he just said “Greyhound.” He admired her a lot, and would have done just about anything to protect her.

“I don't know how you stand the crap that goes with your life,” Mary Stuart said admiringly. “I think I'd go completely berserk after about two days.”

“No, you wouldn't. You'd get used to it, just like I did. There are a lot of perks. That's what kind of sucks you in at first, they don't hit you with the rough stuff until later, and then it's too late, you're too far in to get out, and you figure you might as well stay for the whole show. I'm not sure yet myself if it's been worth it. Sometimes I doubt it. And sometimes I love it.” She hated the pressure and the press and the ugliness of what was hurled at her. But she still enjoyed what she did, and most of the time, she stayed in it for the music. The rest of the time she didn't know why she did it.

They rode on in silence for a while, and then Tanya went to the kitchen and made popcorn. They made sandwiches late that afternoon, and Tanya took one to Tom, with a cup of coffee. They only stopped once, so he could stretch, and the rest of the time they just pressed on, chatting and reading, and Tanya watched a video she'd gotten from the Academy of a first-run movie, and Mary Stuart slept while she watched it. She was exhausted from all her emotions before she left New York. Ever since Bill had left, she'd been moving toward a decision about their life and now she thought she had made it. As sad as it was, it was a relief in a way. It was time to cut their losses. And Tanya didn't disagree with her. But she was sure Alyssa would be upset when her mother told her. She had no idea how Bill would react. She thought it might be a relief for him too. Maybe it was what he had wanted all year, and hadn't had the guts to tell her. She was going to wait, and tell him when he got back from London in late August, or September. And in the meantime, she was going to make plans for her future. After the two weeks at the ranch, Mary Stuart said she was going to L.A. for a week to visit Tanya, and then she had decided to go to East Hampton for a few weeks to get out of the city. She had lots of friends there. It was going to be an interesting summer.

And Tanya was smiling at her when she woke up from her nap. They had traveled far from southern California by then, and had moved on through Nevada.

“Where are we?” Mary Stuart asked, sitting up and looking around. And even half asleep, she barely looked tousled. Tanya leaned over and messed up her hair for her, just as she had done in college, and they both laughed.

“You look about twelve years old, Stu. I hate you. I spend half my life at the plastic surgeon, and you look like that naturally. You're disgusting.” They both looked great and nowhere near their ages. “By the way, I talked to Zoe again last week,” she said casually. “She's really doing an incredible thing with her AIDS clinic in San Francisco.” They both agreed that it was just like her, and Tanya commented that it was too bad she had never married.

“Somehow, I never thought she would,” Mary Stuart said thoughtfully.

“I don't know why not. She had plenty of boyfriends.”

“Yeah, but her sense of nurturing was on a grander scale… orphans in Cambodia, children starving in Ethiopia, refugees from underdeveloped countries. Her AIDS clinic doesn't surprise me in the least, it's exactly what she should have done. The only thing that does surprise me is the baby she adopted. I never figured she'd have kids either. She's too idealistic. I can imagine her dying for a cause she cares about, but not cleaning up throw up.” Tanya couldn't help laughing at the description. She was right on the money. It had always been Mary Stuart and Eleanor who cleaned up the suite. Zoe was always out demonstrating somewhere, and Tanya was either on the phone with Bobby Joe, or rehearsing some music department concert. The domestic arts had never been her strong suit.

“I'd really like to see her,” Tanya said cautiously, wondering just how mad Mary Stuart was going to be, and hoping it wouldn't be very. It was going to break her heart if one of them refused to stay at the ranch. If either of them left, Tanya thought it was going to be Mary Stuart and not Zoe. It was Mary Stuart who had been so hurt by what Zoe had told her.

But when Tanya mentioned wanting to see Zoe, Mary Stuart didn't answer. She just looked out the window, remembering what had happened. It had been a tragic time for all of them, just before graduation, a sad way to end it. And they'd never really gotten back together. Mary Stuart had never seen Zoe again, although she thought of her sometimes. And Tanya saw them both at different times. None of them had ever been back to a reunion. Berkeley was just too big to make it appealing.

They drove on for the next few hours, and they both read. Mary Stuart had brought a stack of books with her, and Tanya was poring over magazines, and relieved not to find herself in them. And at nine o'clock, they finally rolled into Winnemucca. It was a brassy little town filled with restaurants and casinos along the main drag, which was actually just a piece of the highway. And Tom pulled the bus into the parking lot of the Red Lion Inn, where he had booked a room. Tanya was happier staying on the bus with Mary Stuart, but she wanted to go into the restaurant for dinner, and play some slot machines. It was really more of a coffee shop than a restaurant, but there were fifty or so slot machines, and some blackjack tables.

She put on her boots and the cowboy hat, and a pair of dark glasses. She had brought along a short black wig, but it was hot, and it itched, and she really didn't want to wear it, unless she had to. And she and Mary Stuart stood in the marble bathroom, washing their faces and putting on lipstick. Mary Stuart was looking relaxed and they both laughed about how silly they felt, going gambling together in Winnemucca.

“Listen, kid, this is serious. One of us could hit a jackpot. Just don't tell Tony,” Tanya said and winked. She was still amazed at how quickly he could leave her life, and how totally all feelings between them had been canceled. It was as if he had hardly known her. And he was making her so angry these days, that she didn't even miss him. Now and then, she had a flash of nostalgia for him, remembering something they did, but in a minute, remembering the rest, it was over. It had been a mistake, a marriage that should have been an affair. It hurt, but not as much as she had feared when he left her, and that surprised her. She wondered if she was getting callous, or if it had never been what she pretended. It was very strange watching the whole relationship recede into the mists as though it had never existed. The only thing she missed now were his children.

They got off the bus, with Tom watching them, and Tanya told him they'd be fine. He should go relax, gamble, sleep, do whatever he wanted. And he went inside to check in and have dinner. And with that, Tanya and Mary Stuart hurried inside to change two fifty-dollar bills into quarters, and they put the money in a bucket. They had a great time playing the quarter slot machines, making a dollar back here and there, and staring at the people. There were lots of women with blue hair wearing large polyester tops in assorted floral patterns and pastel colors. Most of them had cigarettes hanging from their lips, and the men were playing blackjack and drinking. There were men playing the slot machines too, but there were more women at the slot machines, while the men preferred the poker and blackjack tables. And as Tanya clapped her hands when ten quarters came back to her, a man playing a nearby machine grinned at her, and a minute later, he sidled over. He had long thin legs and no hips, and his jeans seemed to be sliding south. He had a two-day stubble on his face, and rough hands, and he was wearing a cowboy hat not unlike Tanya's.

“How much did you win?” he asked conversationally, and Mary Stuart glanced nervously at Tanya. She was not anxious to get picked up by a drunk in Winnemucca.

“Couple of bucks,” she said, ignoring him and frowning, pretending to be intent on the two machines she was playing.

“People ever tell you, you look just like Tanya Thomas, except you're taller and younger.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said, never looking him in the eye. Cher had told her that once, that if you never make eye contact they don't recognize you. Sometimes it worked for her, and other times it didn't She was hoping it would this time. “People tell me that all the time. I think she's real short though,”

“That's what I said. You're taller. She's good though. You like her singing?”

“She's all right,” Tanya said, slipping into her old Texas drawl, and Mary Stuart tried to keep from laughing. “The stuff she sings is kind of dumb though.” She was really pushing it, and she looked unconcerned as she went on playing.

“Naaw, she's good,” he argued with her, “I really like her.” Tanya shrugged, and a few minutes later he went over to the blackjack table and sat down, and Mary Stuart leaned over and whispered.

“You've got a lot of balls,” she said with a broad grin, and Tanya laughed at her and won a twenty-dollar jackpot. So far, between the two of them, they were just about breaking even. They had agreed on the bus that when they lost the hundred dollars, it was over. They would go on however long it lasted.

“That's the only way to do it,” Tanya giggled, and a little while later she heard some woman say, “Look, that's Tanya Thomas,” but the man who had talked to her said she just looked like her, and was a lot taller, and the woman who had spotted her agreed immediately, and nothing happened. “And younger,” Tanya added under her breath, as Mary Stuart pushed her. They were down about fifty dollars by then. And at ten o'clock they walked into the restaurant for a hamburger, and she saw several people stare at them, but Tanya pretended not to notice. The waitress was particularly intent on watching them, but she wasn't quite sure, and she didn't dare ask, and they actually got to eat a meal in peace, which was rare for Tanya. And then they went back to the slot machines till nearly midnight. In the end, they had forty dollars left and split it between them.

“Wow! We won forty dollars,” Mary Stuart said happily, as they locked the door of the bus behind them.

“No, dummy.” Tanya laughed at her. “We lost sixty. Remember? We started with a hundred.”

“Oh,” Mary Stuart said, looking momentarily crestfallen, and then they both laughed like kids as they got undressed and got ready to go to bed on the bus. The two long couches in the green sitting room in the rear turned into beds, and there was a good-size table between them.

“You know, you look just like Tanya Thomas!” Mary Stuart drawled at her as Tanya brushed her mane of blond hair in the bathroom. It was like being roommates again in college, and Tanya stuck her chin out. She'd had a small implant put in years before, and a little liposuction just beneath it, which gave her the neck of a very young woman.

“But taller and younger!” they intoned together, laughing still harder.

“And don't forget the ‘younger,’ “Tanya reminded her. “I paid a fortune for having all this shit done.”

“You're hopeless,” Mary Stuart said, laughing as she put on her nightgown. She hadn't had this much fun in years, and for the first time in months, she didn't miss Bill at all. Suddenly, she had her own life, and his rejection of her seemed sad but much less important. “You don't look any different than you used to,” she said, looking at Tanya carefully in the mirror. But neither did she, and she had done nothing for it.

“That's the whole point,” Tanya explained. “What I'd like to know, though, is how come you don't look any different, and you claim you've done nothing. I think you're lying,” she teased, but she knew better. Mary Stuart just had great bones, a great face, great genes, and she was a beautiful woman. They both were.

They went to bed chatting like young girls, and they talked until two in the morning with the lights off, and then finally they went to sleep, and didn't wake up until nine the next morning. She had told Tom she'd call him in the hotel when they were ready.

Tanya made coffee in the kitchen, and sweet rolls in the microwave, while Mary Stuart showered. And then Tanya showered afterward, and they were both dressed in blue jeans and cowboy boots by nine-thirty. Neither of them had bothered to put on makeup.

“You know, I never do this,” Tanya confessed, looking in the mirror with amazement. She never went out that way in L.A., she couldn't afford to, but here it didn't matter. And it was a real luxury for her to have the freedom to do that. “I'm always afraid I'll run into a photographer somewhere, or a reporter. But here, what the hell,” she said, smiling. She felt better just being there, and so did Mary Stuart. They both felt free of their heavy burdens.

And a few minutes later, they walked back into the casino. Tanya had called Tom and told him they were almost ready to get going. They had closed up their beds, and he was going to finish cleaning up for them, and get gas, while the two women went to spend another twenty dollars on the slot machines. And this time they each doubled their money. Their friend of the night before was gone, and in his place were a dozen more like him, but absolutely no one paid any attention to Tanya. Mary Stuart thought it was amazing.

“Maybe you should go out without makeup more often,” she said as they boarded the bus. Tom was waiting for them, and he put on another pot of coffee.

“Thanks, Tom,” Tanya said when she saw how nice the bus looked. Mary Stuart had to agree with her, she thought it was the only way to travel. She loved it, and she could see why Tom called it a land yacht.

They drove out of Winnemucca shortly after ten, and continued their trek across Nevada all through the afternoon, and when they got to Idaho, the countryside began to look greener. It had been unbelievably barren in the desert. But Idaho was more inviting. And they rolled on doing just what they had before, reading and sleeping and talking. Tanya checked in with her office and returned some phone calls. But for once, there was no crisis. No one wanted anything from her, and there were no new traumas or lawsuits.

“How boring,” she teased Jean on the phone when she told her how quiet it was. But Tanya was grateful for the respite. There was only a message from Zoe confirming her flight time. She was going to arrive at Jackson Hole shortly after they did. And a van from the hotel was picking her up at the airport. Tanya figured they'd arrive at the ranch around five-thirty, just in time to change their clothes and have dinner. But she said nothing to Mary Stuart about the message from Zoe, although she was beginning to wonder if she should warn her. But Mary Stuart had been so relaxed on the trip, Tanya hated to spoil it, so she didn't. And for the last few hours of the trip, they both slept, and when they awoke, they were dazzled by the Tetons. They were the most spectacular mountains either of them had ever seen. Mary Stuart just sat and stared at them, and without even realizing it, Tanya starting humming and then singing.

It was a moment neither of them would forget for a lifetime. And as Tanya sang, Mary Stuart reached a hand out to her, and they sat holding hands, as they drove through Jackson Hole, toward Moose, Wyoming.