The Ranch

Chapter 11

“You have to check our stock of AZT constantly,” Zoe warned Sam as he handed her bags to the skycap. “You have no idea how quickly we run out. And I try to give away as many free samples as I can. It's expensive,” she said, handing the man a tip and her ticket so he could check her baggage. “And you have to kick the lab constantly. If you let them, they'll take forever. Particularly with the kids, that can be a disaster. You want to know as fast as you can what's happening to their white counts.” She was frantic as she got her ticket back and he walked her to the gate. She was frowning as she talked to Sam, and tried to remember all the concerns she had wanted to share with him at the last minute.

“This could come as a shock to you,” he said gently, as they went through the metal detector, and then past it. “But I went to medical school. I'm board certified, and I have a license. Honest. I swear.” He held up a hand, and she laughed nervously.

“I know, Sam. I'm sorry. I can't help it.”

“I know you can't. But you have to try and relax, or you're going to have a heart attack right here, and never get to Wyoming. And I hate doing CPR in places like this. It's so obvious, and it makes me look like an ER doc, instead of a humble locum tenens.” He was teasing her, and she wanted to relax, but she just couldn't. She felt so guilty, about leaving all of them and Jade, that she was sorry she was going, and if she could have backed out without feeling like a total jerk, she would have. But she had promised Tanya, and she knew she needed the rest. Otherwise, she would have stayed home and gone to work. She had just gone through the same performance at home with Inge, about instructions for Jade, and when the baby had started crying, Sam almost had to drag her down the stairs with her suitcase.

“I can see why you never go anywhere,” he said as they sat down to wait for the plane. He thought she looked pale and he wondered if she was sick again, or just stressed and nervous. Probably a little of both. He was glad she was taking a vacation and he loved doing locum tenens in her practice. He liked working for her too. But he was willing to sacrifice her company for the moment, she was obviously in dire need of some time off.

They had never talked about her personal life again. Ever since their first night out, Zoe had kept the conversation entirely to business. But he still hadn't given up. He had promised to cook dinner for her and Jade when she got back from Wyoming, and she had at least accepted. She saw it as an opportunity for continued friendship. Sam didn't.

“You won't forget to check on Quinn Morrison, will you? I promised him you'd come by every afternoon after the office.” He was one of her favorite patients, a sweet man in his seventies, who had contracted AIDS after prostate surgery, and he was doing poorly.

“I swear,” Sam promised. She had also left him ten thousand instructions at the office. And as he looked at her with a gentle smile, he put an arm around her shoulders. “I'm also going to check up on your daughter, and make sure your au pair isn't beating her, or having sex in your bedroom while Jade watches Big Bird.”

“Oh, God, don't say that,” Zoe groaned at the prospect. She hadn't even thought of Inge doing a thing like that, and he laughed at her reaction.

“I'm going to put you on Prozac if you don't stop it. Or at least Valium.”

“What a nice idea,” she said. Actually, she had just started AZT that week, as a precaution. She was a great believer in doing that prophylactically, even before symptoms, and recommended it to all her patients. She had even told Sam that, in case he saw any new patients. “I really shouldn't have gone on this trip,” she said, torturing herself further, and he suggested they go and get a cup of coffee.

“I don't know another human being who deserves it more,” he said seriously, as he ordered two cappuccinos. “I'm just sorry you're not going for two weeks instead of one.” But they both knew she could never have done it.

“Maybe next year.”

“I'm impressed,” he teased. “You actually think you might do this again? I figured this was a once-in-a-life-time deal.” It might be, but not for the reasons he was thinking, and she didn't say that.

“We'll see.” She looked coy then over her coffee. “Depends how much I like it.”

“What's not to like.7” He had been to Yellowstone Park once, and absolutely loved it.

“Depends how cute the cowboys are.” She was teasing him, and he didn't think he liked it, but he was nonetheless willing to take it from her.

“Oh, great. You tell me you're becoming a nun, and now you're going to Wyoming to chase cowboys. Terrific. See if I cover for you again. Maybe I'll give all your patients placebos.”

“Don't you dare!” she laughed.

“I wear cowboy boots too, you know. And I can buy one of those dumb hats, if that's what gets to you. Funny though, I can't see Dick Franklin playing cowboy,” he mused, and she laughed at him. He loved to give her a hard time about the illustrious Dr. Franklin. Sam really didn't like him. He thought he was a pompous, pretentious asshole. They had disagreed about surgical treatment for breast cancer at a medical meeting in L.A., and Franklin had treated Sam like a novice. And although he wasn't a surgeon himself, he certainly had valid opinions. But Dick Franklin didn't think so.

“I'll bring you back a cowboy hat,” Zoe promised him, and he grinned. She still hadn't convinced him about the validity of her celibacy, and he had every intention of continuing to annoy her about it.

“Just don't bring home a cowboy.”

“I'll call you,” she said as the plane pulled in. She was flying to Salt Lake City, and then transferring to a smaller plane to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She had timed it perfectly to arrive at almost the same time as Tanya.

“Say hello to your friend for me. I'd love to meet her sometime.”

“I'll tell her to call you,” she teased. Everyone in the world wanted to meet Tanya. She was everyone's dream girl. And then suddenly he looked serious as she picked up her bag and got ready to board the aircraft. “Take care of yourself. You need a break, Miss Z. Use this time for yourself. You've earned it.” She nodded, touched by the way he looked at her, but unable to respond to him, and then she saw him narrow his eyes with an unspoken question. “I just thought of something. Do you have a medical bag with you?” he asked, looking worried.

“Yeah. Why? I put one in my suitcase, but I checked it. Do you need it?” She looked around, wondering if he had seen something she hadn't. She was usually careful about volunteering her assistance in public, but if she was needed urgently, she always did it. “Is someone hurt?”

“Yeah. You. After I hit you over the head with my shoe. You're on vacation, you dope. I thought you'd do something like that. I want you to leave it in your suitcase.”

“Well, I wasn't planning to run around the ranch with it. I just thought I should have it in case something happened.” And then she looked at him pointedly and asked him a question. “Are you telling me you don't take one when you go somewhere? I'd feel lost without it.” She knew damn well he would too. They all did.

“That's different. I do relief work.” He looked mildly embarrassed, and she laughed at him, and then he put an arm around her and pulled her closer, but he knew she would never have let him kiss her. “Just be good to yourself. Forget all of us, if you can. If I really need you, I'll call you.”

“Promise you'll do that?” She looked genuinely concerned, and he nodded. It was why she liked leaving her practice in his hands, because he listened, he cared, and he did exactly what she wanted. He didn't try to change the world and turn everything upside down while he was on duty. And he was truly a great doctor, and she knew that. She had always thought he was foolish being satisfied with doing locum tenens.

“I promise you I'll call if anything comes up,” he reassured her again. “Promise me you'll get some rest and come back with pink cheeks and a little fatter, even if you do spend all your time chasing cowboys. Get a little sunshine too, and lots of sleep.”

“Yes, Doctor.” She smiled at him, and she thanked him again for keeping an eye on her practice, and a moment later she walked slowly down the gangway toward the plane. And he waved for as long as he could see her.

He stood watching the plane until it pulled away, and then he walked slowly out of the airport. And almost before he'd reached the door, his beeper went off, and he went to a phone to answer a call from one of her patients. He was off and running. And she was in the air by then, on her way to Wyoming.

The flight to Salt Lake took just over two hours, and she had a two-hour wait then for the next plane, and they had already had a time change. She thought about calling Jade, but she decided it might upset her to hear her voice so soon and not understand where she was. She decided to wait till she got to the ranch instead, and she sat in the airport and drank coffee and read the paper and sat lost in her own thoughts. She so rarely had time to do that. And she mused over the fact that she had heard from Dick Franklin the day before. Much to her surprise, he called her. He had been stunned, and very moved when he got her note. He didn't ask to see her again, but he said that if she needed anything, she should call. He appreciated her honesty, though he wasn't worried, and he assured her that her secret was safe with him. He asked her how it had happened, and she told him, and he said he wasn't surprised. And she had the feeling, when they hung up, that she wouldn't hear from him again. But in her mind, it was just as well. She had no room for him or any man in her life now.

It was a luxury just sitting there on the airplane, without phones, without beepers, without patients, without anyone needing or wanting her, without having to figure out how she could help them. As much as she liked her work, she knew she would really enjoy the vacation. And she really wanted to shore up her energy and her strength. She knew she would need them. She had every intention of continuing her practice till the bitter end. She had already made that decision. She was going to give her patients everything she had to give, until there was nothing left to give them. And Jade too. But she had to figure out what to do about Jade. She had no family to leave her with, and no friends she thought were responsible enough to take good care of her, or else they were people she liked but weren't good with children. She'd been thinking of talking to Tanya, and she had no idea what she'd think of it. But it was a possibility at least. Zoe knew that eventually she had to do something.

The flight to Jackson Hole left on time, and Zoe landed on schedule at exactly five-thirty. She had no idea where Tanya was by then, she knew she was arriving by bus that afternoon. She had planned to reach her at the ranch, and the hotel was sending a van for her. Her bags were among the first ones off, the driver was waiting for her, and everything went smoothly.

The young man who drove the van was wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat, and he looked like everyone else in Wyoming. He was long, lanky, and lean, had short blond hair, he said his name was Tim, and he was from Mississippi. He was attending the University of Wyoming in Laramie, and working at the ranch for the summer. He said he loved it because of the horses. And as he drove her there, he told her about it. But Zoe found she could barely listen to him, she was mesmerized by the mountains. They were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and the late afternoon sun shimmered on them in blues and pinks. There was snow at the very top, and they looked like the Swiss Alps to her. She had never seen anything like it.

“They're spectacular, aren't they, ma'am? They kinda take your breath away, don't they?” She agreed with him entirely, and let him rattle on for the half hour it took them to get there. He said he had an uncle who was a doctor too, he was an orthopedist and he'd set Tim's arm once. Did it real good too, because when he rode in the rodeo last year, the arm he'd broken before hadn't bothered him at all, but he'd broken the other one, and his leg too. But he was riding again this year. The story definitely had local color.

“Is there a rodeo here?” she asked with interest.

“Yes, ma'am. Wednesdays and Saturdays. Bull riding, broncos, the young kids ride steers, calf roping. You been to the rodeo before?”

“Not yet,” she smiled, but she was sure Tanya would want to see it. She used to talk about the rodeos in Texas. “My friend is from Texas.”

“I know.” He looked a little embarrassed as soon as she said it. “I know who she is, but we're not supposed to talk about it at the ranch. Mrs. Collins gets real mad if anyone makes celebrities uncomfortable, and we get them from time to time, you know. We've had some real big ones at the ranch since I've been there.” He looked at her staunchly then, and she imagined that that was why Tanya had chosen this one. “We don't give anyone no information.”

“I know she'll appreciate it,” Zoe said kindly.

“They're supposed to be arriving by bus any minute.” She wasn't sure who he meant by “they,” except maybe her bus driver, but Zoe didn't bother to ask him, and five minutes later they pulled off the road, through some gates, and down a long winding road Tim called “the driveway,” but it seemed to go on forever. It was another full ten minutes before they reached some foothills, and she saw half a dozen buildings cleverly nestled into the base of them, a big barn, and several huge corrals filled with horses. There were lovely trees everywhere, and the buildings were impeccably maintained, and looming high above them, across the valley, were the ever present Tetons.

Tim took her to check in, and she was told at the desk that Miss Thomas hadn't arrived yet, but she was instantly given a warm welcome. The ranch house itself looked old and was very beautiful. There were antelope heads, and a buffalo on the wall, beautiful skins on the floor, and a spectacular picture window that showed a huge span of mountains. And there was an enormous fireplace that a tall man could have stood up in. It looked like a cozy place to spend a long winter's night, and there were a few guests chatting quietly in the corner. The woman at the desk explained to her that at that hour most of them were in their cabins, changing for dinner. Dinner was at seven.

There was a handful of informational sheets and a brochure for her, and then Tim drove her to the cabin. It was a humble euphemism for what would have been a handsome home for a family of five in the suburbs of any city. There was a big, cozy living room, with a fireplace and a potbellied stove, a small kitchen area, and couches covered in handsome textured fabrics. The feeling in the room was Southwestern, and somewhat Navajo, but it looked like a spread in Architectural Digest, where it had recently been featured. And there were three huge bedrooms, each one with a splendid view, and there were trees all around them.

It was really beautiful, and Zoe felt totally spoiled as she set down her tote bag, and Tim put down her suitcase. He asked her which bedroom she preferred, and she wanted to wait for Tanya to make the selection. There was one slightly larger than the other two, but they were all large and comfortable with huge king-size beds, and rough-hewn furniture, and a fireplace in each bedroom. For a minute she wanted to jump up and down on the beds and scream, like a little kid, and she was beaming when Tim left her. For a few minutes she wandered from room to room, and she helped herself to a nectarine from a large bowl of fruit on the coffee table. There was a big tin of freshly baked cookies too, and a box of chocolates. They had also asked Tanya's secretary for all her preferences, and the room was full of them. There were flowers everywhere, soda and especially root beer, Tanya's favorite, in the fridge, there were the cookies she preferred, the correct brand of crackers and yogurt she ate for breakfast, and there was an abundance of towels and her favorite soap in all three bathrooms.

“Wow!” Zoe said out loud as she looked around, and then she sat down on the couch and waited. She watched the news on television, helped herself to a diet Coke, and ten minutes later she could hear the bus lumbering slowly up the driveway. It was perfect timing. And Zoe stood in the doorway, like the lady of the house, waiting to greet her, as Tanya walked off the bus, and ran toward her as soon as she saw her. The two were locked in a fast embrace, as suddenly Zoe saw over her shoulder that someone else was getting off the bus too. And she looked instantly startled, but not nearly as much so as Mary Stuart. Mary Stuart stood rooted to the spot, and she didn't know whether to get back on the bus, or march down the driveway. Instead she just stood there staring at Tanya. And when the other two took a step back, Mary Stuart was staring at them in fury.

“I can't believe you did this,” she said to both of them, but even she would have had to admit that Zoe looked genuinely amazed to see her. It was obvious that she hadn't known either.

“It's not her fault,” Tanya said rapidly, as Tom began to take their bags off. “It's mine. Let me explain what happened.”

“Don't bother,” Mary Stuart said sharply. “I'm leaving.” Tom looked surprised and glanced at Tanya with a silent question. But she was too busy dealing with her friend to answer.

“That's not fair, Mary Stuart. Give it a chance, at least. We haven't been together in so long… I just thought…”

“Well, you shouldn't have. After the year I've just had, I don't understand how you could do this. It was a rotten thing to do, and you know it.” She was livid and there were tears in Tanya's eyes as she listened, realizing it had been selfish on her part. She had just wanted both of them to be with her. But she'd been worried about it since she'd done it. It had been twenty-two years, that was a long time for their old wounds to fester.

“I'm sorry, Mary Stuart,” Zoe said quietly. “I shouldn't have come anyway. I have a lot to do in San Francisco, and a small child at home. It makes more sense for me to leave. I shouldn't have come in the first place. I'll catch a flight out after dinner.” She spoke very calmly and very gently, but in the past two decades she had spent a lot of time dealing with very sick, very unhappy, often agitated, even demented people, and she was able to speak sensibly even when in the throes of her own emotions.

“You don't have to do that,” Mary Stuart said, trying to regain her composure, and suddenly feeling she'd been rude, but she had been so stunned to see her, and the moment had been so awkward. “I'll be perfectly happy to fly back to New York in the morning.” But she had to admit, it was a disappointment.

“You're both a couple of jerks,” Tanya said, near tears.

“I can't believe you can keep this bullshit going for more than twenty years. We're almost forty-five years old, for chrissake. Don't you have anything else to think about than to be pissed off at what happened when we were kids? Christ, I deal with so much shit every day, I can't even remember last week, let alone over twenty-one years ago. Give me a break, guys.” She stood watching them, and Mary Stuart and Zoe looked at each other, as Tom took their bags into the cabin. He was planning to stay at a hotel in Jackson Hole, and be on call in case Tanya wanted to go on any excursions. But he wondered now about what they were doing. “Can we at least go inside to discuss this?” Tanya asked, looking hurt and angry, and the three women moved inside, as Tom put the groceries in the kitchen, and then left them.

The three women were standing awkwardly in the living room, and Tanya was wondering what to do now. “Will you at least sit down? You're both making me very nervous,” she said, pacing the room, as Zoe looked at her. Unlike the other two, who were the same age, Zoe was almost a full year older, but they all looked terrific. “Look,” Tanya said as they sat down, “I probably shouldn't have done it, I apologize. It was a stupid, sophomoric thing to do, but I thought I could get the three of us back together. I've missed you. I don't have any other friends like you. Nobody else in this whole world cares about me, absolutely no one. I don't have a husband, I don't have kids, I don't even have stepkids anymore. All I have is you… and what I wanted was what we used to have… that's all… maybe it was crazy… but I wish you would at least try it.”

“We both love you,” Mary Stuart said calmly, trying to regain her composure. “Or at least I do, and I'm sure Zoe does too, or she wouldn't be here. We didn't just come here for the view and the cowboys,” Zoe smiled and nodded as she listened, “but we don't love each other, Tan. That's the problem. I think it would be a very hard two weeks if we all stayed here.” Zoe nodded again, and Tanya looked even more disappointed. She had expected some kind of reaction when they arrived, but she hadn't expected both of them to insist on leaving. She realized now that her idea had been really stupid. She would have been better off extending the invitation to either Mary Stuart or Zoe, and not undertaking such an ambitious reunion.

“What about just for tonight? We've been driving all day, and we're both tuckered out.” She spoke of herself and Mary Stuart, and turned to Zoe. “You've had two flights just to get here, and you look tired… you look good,” she corrected herself, “but you look bushed. We all are. After all, we're not kids anymore,” she teased, but neither of them smiled. They were both thinking about what to do now. “Why can't we just stay here for tonight, and then it's up to you what you want to do. I won't make a fuss, and if you're both pissed and tell me to get lost, and leave, it's my own fault. But then I'm leaving too. I'm not going to stay here alone for two weeks. It would be too depressing,” It was a beautiful place, and a real shame to waste the vacation.

Zoe was the first to speak up, and she looked at both women when she did it. “I'll stay tonight. You're right. It's a long trip back, and I'm not even sure there is a flight out tonight. This is not exactly Kennedy Airport.” She smiled at Tanya, and looked hesitantly at Mary Stuart. “Would that suit you, Stu?” She slipped easily into their old nicknames.

“I'm all right with that,” Mary Stuart said politely. “I'll go back to New York in the morning.”

“No, you're not,” Tanya said bluntly, “you promised you'd spend a week with me in L.A.” She was starting to look annoyed. She thought Mary Stuart was being unreasonable, but she knew just how deep the old wounds went.

“I'll fly back tomorrow,” Zoe said matter-of-factly, and Tanya decided to quit while they were ahead. They were spending the night, it was a start, and maybe a miracle would happen before morning.

“What bedrooms do you all want?” Tanya asked, taking off her hat, and tossing it on a hat rack. The rooms had every possible thing they could have wanted. Coatracks, boot jacks, gloves in case the mornings were chilly. There were rain ponchos in the closet in case there was a storm. Everything was comfortable and luxurious and well thought out. Even Tanya had never seen any place like it. “I love this place,” she said with a cautious smile, and this time the other two joined her. In spite of their amazement at being together again, they all had to agree that the ranch was fabulous, and their cabin even better.

“Do they just do this for you, Tan?” Zoe asked, “or does everyone get this kind of treatment?” She doubted everyone did, she had never seen so many thoughtful little touches, including every magazine they could possibly have wanted.

“Supposedly, every cabin is like this,” she said, helping herself to a root beer. “They called my secretary the week before we left to ask what I like to eat and drink and read, what kind of soap I like, how many pillows and towels, what videos, if I needed a fax in the room, or additional phone lines. I told them one phone was fine, but I had them put in a fax, and three VCR's, and I guessed at the foods and drinks you like. If there's anything you want, just tell them.”

“This place is amazing,” Mary Stuart concurred as she went to look at all the bedrooms, and on her way back she almost ran into Zoe.

“How've you been, Stu?” Zoe asked solicitously, and the look in her eyes startled Mary Stuart. There was a lot of sorrow and pain there.

“I've been fine,” Mary Stuart said softly, wanting to ask her about her own life for the past twenty years. But she knew about the clinic from Tanya.

“I'm sorry about your son,” Zoe said, and instinctively touched her arm. “Tanya told me… it's so unfair… I deal with it all the time, and it's never right, but especially at his age. I'm really sorry.”

“Thanks, Zoe,” she said, her eyes filled with tears as she turned away from her. She didn't want Zoe to see it, but Zoe had sensed it, and she moved away so as not to offend her.

“Have we figured out what bedrooms yet?” Tanya came back into the room and she saw that Mary Stuart had been crying, and she wondered if they'd been fighting, but neither of them looked angry, and then she suspected it was about Todd, and when she raised an eyebrow Zoe nodded.

In the end, they all selected rooms. The slightly larger one had a sunken bathtub and a Jacuzzi, and Zoe and Mary Stuart both insisted that Tanya have it, although she would have given it up to either one of them. And when she agreed to use it, she told them to use the Jacuzzi anytime, but they both pointed out they'd be leaving in the morning. And Tanya almost told them she thought they were both disgustingly stubborn, but she didn't say it. She just went to her own room to change for dinner, and the others did the same a moment later.

Zoe called home from her room, and everything was fine. Jade was eating dinner when she called, and Inge said everything was going smoothly and she put Jade on the phone, and she didn't even cry when she heard her mother. She thought of paging Sam, just to see how things were, but she decided not to. He would be paged by plenty of her patients, so she didn't.

And shortly before seven o'clock they all met in the living room. Tanya was wearing skin-tight black suede pants, and a beaded cowboy shirt, with her blond hair loosely tied in a black ribbon behind her. And she was wearing tall, black suede cowboy boots that she had bought for the occasion. Zoe was wearing jeans, a soft, pale blue sweater and hiking boots, and Mary Stuart was wearing gray slacks, a beige sweater, and Chanel loafers. They were all as they had always been, surprisingly compatible, and yet totally different. There was a kind of mesh between them that, even now, with the rift between two of them, was still more powerful than they were. And Tanya knew that if they'd been honest with each other, they would have admitted that they felt it. She did, she felt drawn to both of them, as though there was an invisible cord around them pulling them closer. When she came back into the living room, Mary Stuart was asking Zoe about her clinic, and she was talking animatedly about it, while Mary Stuart listened in fascination.

“What an enormous undertaking,” Mary Stuart said admiringly, but as they left for the dining room, they both fell silent, as though they had each remembered they weren't supposed to be speaking to each other. But once they were at the dinner table, the conversation got under way again. Tanya talked at length about her next concert tour, and the movie she was about to close a deal on, and they were both excited for her. It was obvious that they were both genuinely fond of her and wanted to protect her. They had been put at a table in the corner of the room, and although they all saw heads turn, no one came to ask for autographs, or to speak to them, except eventually the head of the ranch, Charlotte Collins, who stopped at the table to make them feel welcome.

She was a remarkable woman with a wide smile and piercing blue eyes, who seemed to see all, and kept her hand in every pie, and in every room, and on every person. She knew exactly what every one of her employees was doing at the time, and what each guest needed at that precise moment. And somehow, she managed to coordinate the two to the nth degree. Tanya was enormously impressed by the entire operation, as were the others, and they said so.

“Well, we hope you'll enjoy your stay with us. It's very important to us,” she said, and looked as though she meant it. And neither Zoe nor Mary Stuart had the courage to ask her about planes or tell her they were leaving in the morning.

“I'll ask at the desk after breakfast,” Mary Stuart said, after Charlotte Collins moved on. There would be plenty of time then, and she could always fly to L.A. and spend a night at the Beverly Wilshire. Or to Denver. And Zoe's route was fairly simple. She would just go home the same way she had come there.

“I don't want to talk about this now,” Tanya said sternly. “I want both of you to think about what you're doing. Do you really have so many friends that you can afford to lose someone you've known for half your life?” But what had blown them apart had been pretty brutal and Tanya knew it. She just didn't want it to go on forever. After twenty-one years, they had a right to end it. They all needed each other too badly to let go and walk away forever.

They talked about other things after that, Alyssa for a while, and Jade, but not Todd. And neither Mary Stuart nor Tanya talked about their husbands. They talked about trips and music and friends, books they cared about and Zoe's clinic, and then they started reminiscing about college. The people they had hated most, the funny ones, the ones they'd heard about in recent years, the dorks, the nerds, the drips, the tarts, and the heroes. A number of people they knew in school in the early years had died in Vietnam just before the peace was signed. It had been particularly cruel to lose friends in the final hours, but it had happened. And others had died since then. Several members of their class had died of cancer, and Zoe seemed to know that. She knew it through the medical community or through friends, or maybe because she lived in San Francisco, and a lot of their classmates had never left there. It had been a short, easy jump from Berkeley to the city. And through it ail none of them ever mentioned Ellie. They were still talking about other friends as they walked back to the cabin, and it was only when they were back in their living room that Tanya said it. She knew Ellie was on all their minds, and it would be easier if someone just said it. So she did.

“You know, it's amazing, after ail these years, I still miss her.” There was a long pause, and then Mary Stuart nodded.

“So do I,” she admitted in a soft voice. In some ways Ellie had been the heart and soul of the group. She had always been the gentlest of them all, and yet she had often been the life of the party. She was a funny, zany girl, who would do almost anything for a laugh, including walking into a party with nothing but white paint on. She had done that once, and now and then she wore a lamp shade to chapel. She did crazy, silly things, and she always made them laugh, and then she made them cry. It had broken everyone's heart when she died, particularly Mary Stuart's. They had been best friends and roommates. And they were all sitting there thinking about her, when Zoe broke the silence.

“I wish I'd known then what I know now,” she said gently to Mary Stuart, as Tanya watched them. “I had no right to say the things I did to you. I can't believe how young and stupid I was. I've often thought about it. I almost wrote you a letter once, when my first patient committed suicide. It was like God's vengeance for my having been so cruel and so outrageous to you. It was as if he were trying to teach me everything I hadn't learned with Ellie, that it was no one's fault, that we couldn't have stopped her if we tried, oh, we might have for a while. But not in the end, not if that was really what she wanted. I was so damn ignorant when I was young, I kept thinking that one of us should have seen it, that you should have because you were closest to her. I couldn't understand why you didn't know that she'd been taking pills and drinking. She must have been doing it for months, I think, and I guess she'd gotten away with it. But she really didn't want to. Ellie got exactly what she wanted.” But as Mary Stuart listened to Zoe's words, she started crying. It was like listening to her talk about Todd, but Zoe didn't know that. And Tanya put a gentle arm around her. “I should have written you the letter, Stu,” Zoe said with tears in her own eyes. “I never forgave myself for what I said to you, I guess you didn't either. I don't blame you,” she said sadly. It had blown them all apart. Zoe had been vicious with her, she had raged at her for days, and even at the funeral, she had refused to sit beside her. She had blamed Mary Stuart completely for not being able to stop her, and Mary Stuart had been overwhelmed by the accusations, and she had believed her. It had taken years to overcome her sense of having failed to save her friend's life. It was almost as though she had killed her. And then it had all come back to her with Todd. It was as though the horror had never ended. Only this time it was worse, and now it was Bill blaming her, and not Zoe. “I'm so sorry,” Zoe said as she walked across the room and sat beside her. “I've wanted to say that to you all night. Even if we both leave tomorrow morning, especially if we do, I can't live with myself unless I tell you how wrong I was, and how stupid. You were right to hate me for all these years and I'm really sorry.” She was crying when she said it. It was important to her now to confess her sins and make peace with the people she had injured. And in Zoe's life, there weren't many.

“Thank you for saying that,” Mary Stuart choked on a sob as she hugged her, “but I always thought you were right. How could I not know what she was doing? How could I have been so blind?” They were the same questions she had asked herself about her son's death. Todd's death had, in some ways, been very similar to Ellie's. It was like a recurring nightmare. Only there was no waking. It seemed to go on forever.

“She was very sneaky, and she wanted to die,” Zoe said simply. Her practice had taught her a great deal in the past two decades. “You couldn't have stopped her.”

“I wish I believed that,” Mary Stuart said sadly, confused suddenly if they were talking about her son, or their roommate,

“I know,” Zoe persisted, as firm in this position as she had once been in the other. “She didn't want you to know what she was doing. If she had, you could have stopped her, but you couldn't.”

“I wish I had,” Mary Stuart said, staring at her hands folded in her lap, as the other two watched her. And Tanya was worried. “I wish I had known, about both of them.” She raised her eyes to her friends’, and they could both see the agony she held here.

“Both of whom?” Zoe was confused now, and Mary Stuart didn't answer, but the others just waited. “Mary Stuart?” She looked at her, and then she understood as Mary Stuart looked at her, and she wished she could have died for her, for both of them. She could only begin to imagine the agony she'd been through. Even more so after the distant memory of Ellie. It must have been like reliving it all again, but it had been so much worse for her. It made Zoe sob to realize what had happened. “Oh my God,” she said, as she clutched her old friend and they both cried. “Oh, God… Stu… I'm so sorry…”

“It was so awful,” Mary Stuart cried, “it was so terrible… and Bill said all the same things you did, and more.” She went on sobbing as though her heart would break. But Mary Stuart knew it couldn't, it had broken long before that. “And Bill still blames me,” she explained. “He hates me. He's in London now, without me, because he can't bear the sight of me, and I don't blame him. He thinks I killed our son, or let him die, at the very least… just as you thought about Ellie.”

“I was a fool,” Zoe said, still holding Mary Stuart in her arms, but it was small comfort in the face of what had happened. “I was twenty-two years old and an inexperienced moron. Bill should know better.”

“He's convinced I could have stopped him.”

“Then someone needs to tell him the truth about suicides. Stu, if he really wanted to, wild horses couldn't have stopped him. If he really wanted to, he would never have given you any warning.”

“He didn't,” she said sadly, blowing her nose in the tissue Tanya handed her, as Zoe sat back and put an arm around Mary Stuart's shoulders.

“You can't blame yourself. You have to try and accept what happened. As awful as it is, you can't change it, you can't stop it. You couldn't have stopped it then. All you can do now is go on, or you'll destroy yourself and everything around you.”

“Actually, we've done a fairly good job of that.” She blew her nose again and smiled at both her friends through the tears she was still crying. “There's nothing left of our marriage. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well, not if he blames you. Somebody needs to talk to him.”

“Probably my lawyer,” Mary Stuart said, laughing grimly, and the other two smiled at her. She sounded a little more herself, and Tanya held one hand, and Zoe the other. “I've kind of decided to give it up. I'm going to tell him when he comes back from London.”

“What's he doing there?” Zoe was curious. She didn't think they lived there.

“He has a big case there for the next two or three months, but he wouldn't let me come with him.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow, and looked like her old cynical self as the other two watched her. She had mellowed a lot over the last twenty years, but there was still quite a lot of spice there. “Is he involved with someone else?”

“Actually, I don't think so. We haven't made love in a year, not since the night before Todd died. He's never touched me since. It's like the ultimate silent punishment. I think I so revolt him he can't touch me. But anyway, I really don't think there is someone else. That might be easier to understand than what's happened.”

“Not really,” Zoe looked clinical more than sympathetic.

“Some people just freeze up after traumas like that. It's pretty typical. I've heard it before. It's not exactly therapeutic, however, for a marriage.”

“Not really.” Mary Stuart smiled briefly. “Anyway, I think I've finally figured out what I need for myself. He's never going to forgive me anyway, and I might as well get it over with. Living with him is like living with my guilt every day, and I just can't do it.”

“You shouldn't,” Zoe said quietly. “He either has to deal with it honestly, or you need to get out. I think you're doing the right thing,” she said matter-of-factly. “What about your daughter?”

Mary Stuart sighed as she answered. “I think she'll probably blame me for the divorce. I don't think she understands how rotten her father has been to me. She just thinks he's busy. I did too, at first. But he made pretty clear what he was feeling. I can't stay there anymore, just for Alyssa, or even for him. I'm not even a wife to him now. We don't speak, we don't go anywhere, he doesn't want to be with me. And just seeing the way he looks at me is like being beaten.”

“Then get out,” Zoe said firmly. They hadn't seen each other for twenty years, and it was suddenly as though they had turned the clock back, to the beginning.

“You'll be better off without him if he's making you miserable,” Tanya said gently. “I survived it. You will too. We all do.”

“We've been married for twenty-two years. It's incredible to watch it all go out the window.”

“It sounds like it already did a while ago,” Zoe said honestly, and Tanya nodded, and Mary Stuart couldn't disagree with them. Even now that he was gone, he hardly ever called her. And when they spoke, he was in a hurry to get off the phone because it was so awkward. Lately, she had taken to sending him faxes, as she had that night when they arrived, just confirming her location. And even then, he didn't answer.

“You're still young,” Tanya said encouragingly, “you could meet someone else, and have a whole new life with them, with someone who wants to be with you.” Mary Stuart nodded, wishing she believed them. She couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to be with her again, after the way Bill viewed her.

“It sounds like it's time to move on,” Zoe confirmed, and Mary Stuart didn't disagree with them. She just hated the fact that it had come to this after all these years. She dreaded telling him, and then packing up her things, and telling Alyssa they were getting divorced. It was all so difficult, and she shuddered at the prospect of dating. She almost couldn't bear it. But it was the same boat Tanya was in, except she was Tanya Thomas, and Mary Stuart said that. “Are you kidding? I haven't had a date since Tony left. Everyone is scared to death of me. No one's going to ask me out, except some damn hairdresser who wants to say they were out with me. Like Everest. No one wants to live there, but the whole world wants to say they climbed it.” All three of them laughed at that, and Mary Stuart wasn't sure if she felt better or worse. Just talking about her plans made it all seem so final. And in a way it seemed a betrayal of Bill, who didn't even know what she was thinking. But it was real, and it was what she was feeling, and what she thought she'd do at the end of the summer. At least she had time to think about it now while he was in England.

They sat and talked for a long time. Nothing was resolved, but their friendship was restored, and none of them said anything more about leaving in the morning. Zoe's apology had meant a great deal to Mary Stuart. And Zoe was deeply moved to realize her words had hurt her friend for all these years, worse still since her son had been a suicide, not unlike Ellie. Life was so cruel sometimes. It always boggled her, but it was also so kind at others. And in the morning, when the phone rang at six o'clock, it was Zoe who answered. She was used to coming awake instantly for the phone at night, and the other two were still sleeping.

“Hello?”

“Zoe?” It was Sam, and she instantly thought of Jade and felt a wave of panic… appendicitis… crib death… an earthquake…

“Is Jade all right?” They were the first words out of her mouth. It was as though Jade had been born to her, she loved her as much as any natural mother and had all the same instincts.

“She's fine. I'm sorry if I scared you. But I wanted to call you. I thought you'd want to know.” He hated calling her with bad news, but he was sure she'd never forgive him if he didn't. “Quinn Morrison died an hour ago. He went peacefully, and his family was with him. I'm sorry you weren't here with him, but I did everything I could. His heart just gave out finally.” In a way, it had been a mercy, and she knew it. But she was sad anyway, and she cried when he told her. She cried for most of them, the old, the young, and especially the children. At least Quinn Morrison had been seventy-four years old, he'd had a full life, and AIDS had only ruined the last year of it, not an entire lifetime, and it hadn't cut it much shorter than most people his age with other diseases. But she was sad anyway, she felt a sense of loss, and of having been defeated. It was a familiar feeling to her, she lost so many patients to the dread killer. “Are you all right?” Sam sounded worried.

“I'm fine. I just feel badly not to have been there.”

“I knew you would. That's why I called. He said he was glad you went to Wyoming.” She smiled at that. It sounded just like him. He'd spent the whole year telling her she should get married and have children.

“Is everyone else all right?”

“Peter Williams had a rough night. I spent an hour at his house before I went to Quinn's. He's got pneumonia again. I'm going to admit him in the morning,” He was thirty-one years old, and getting close to the end too. But in his case, it was far more disturbing because he was so young.

“Sounds like you had a busy night.”

“The usual,” he said, smiling. He loved it. This was what he had gone to school for. “What about you? Having fun? Meet any cowboys yet?”

“Just one. The one who picked me up at the airport. He's about twelve years old and twelve feet tall, a kid from Mississippi. It's incredible here, by the way, I really love it.”

“How's your friend?”

“Fine. And she had a surprise for me. Our other roommate from Berkeley. It's a long story, but she and I haven't spoken in twenty years. She was ready to take the next plane back to New York when she saw me. But I think we made peace last night. I was a real shit to her twenty years ago, I've never forgiven myself for it. And it was really nice to put that behind us.”

“Sounds like you've been busy too,” he said kindly.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, go back to sleep. I'm sorry I called so early.” It was only five-thirty in the morning for him by then, and he was about to go to bed. But he had wanted her to know about Quinn Morrison as soon as it happened. He knew that was what she would have wanted.

“Thanks for calling, Sam. I really appreciate it. I know you did your best for him. Don't feel that you didn't. I wouldn't have been able to do anything different.” It was nice of her to say that to him, and he was grateful. She was a good woman.

“Thank you for that, Zoe. Take care. I'll talk to you soon,” but as he hung up, he felt sad thinking of her. There was so much there, so much he wanted and admired, and he couldn't get near her. And he sensed her loneliness too. There was an overwhelmingly vulnerable quality about her, and yet she was hiding somewhere, and he was beginning to suspect he would never find her.

At that exact moment, as he went to bed, Zoe was standing in the living room of their cabin in Moose, Wyoming, watching the sun come up over the Grand Tetons. And there were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks at the sheer beauty of it. She thought of Quinn Morrison, and the life he had led. She was sorry he had died, she was sorry for so many of them. There was so much grief in life… Ellie… and Todd… and all the sorrows she'd seen, and yet at the same time there was this overwhelming beauty. And she was suddenly glad she had come. Whatever happened, she had seen the sun come up once in her life over the Grand Tetons. It was impossible not to know there was a God when you saw that. She tiptoed quietly back to her own room, and lay in bed, thinking of Sam, and looking out over the mountains.