“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.