The Ranch

“Fine. And I will not, as long as you understand that. It'll be fun for you to meet people like that. Tanya certainly seems to have interesting friends, but that's hardly surprising.” He seemed to forget about it then, and went to bed with a stack of magazines he needed to glance through for legal and business purposes. There were several articles about some of his clients. And Mary Stuart disappeared into the bathroom, and emerged ten minutes later in a white cotton nightgown. She could have worn chain mail or a hair shirt and he wouldn't have noticed, and she lay in bed quietly while he read, thinking about her conversation with Tanya, and the things she had said about Tony. She wondered if Tanya was right, and if he really would be leaving soon, or if he would stick around and work it out. It seemed so unfair of him not to stand by Tanya, but she seemed resigned to his defection, and almost to expect it. Mary Stuart couldn't help wondering if Tanya should take a less accepting role, and at least try to stop him. It was so easy to look at someone else's life and decide what they should do. She had been completely unable to do it in her own life. In the past year, she had been completely helpless to reverse the tides, or to reach Bill at any time. He was totally beyond her reach, behind a wall of ice that grew thicker and thicker by the moment. She felt as though she hadn't really seen him in months, and she had begun to lose hope of ever reaching him again. She had no idea what they would do about their future. And he was certainly not open to discussion about that either. She had the feeling that if she had even mentioned it to him, he would have acted as though she were crazy. As he had tonight, when she came home with a lighter step, and a smile on her face. He had looked at her as though she came from another planet. It was obvious that laughter was no longer to be tolerated, and any kind of closeness between them was a thing of the distant past. And she only really noticed how bad it had become when she saw them through other people's eyes. Alyssa had looked horrified when she came home at Christmas, and couldn't wait to go back to Paris. And yet, as awful as it was for all of them, Mary Stuart had no idea how to stop it. And Bill didn't want to.

He turned out the light when he finished reading, and said nothing at all to Mary Stuart. She was lying on her side, with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, wondering if he would ever become human again, if he would ever reach out to her, if anyone would ever care about her, or touch her, or tell her they loved her, or if that was all in the past now. At forty-four, in more ways than one, her life was not only shrinking, it was over.

Chapter 4

Mary Stuart diligently stayed home to watch Tanya on television the next day, and wanted to leap out of her seat and smash the screen when the interviewer segued from a question about Tanya's childhood in a small town in Texas right to one about the recent rumor linking her to a trainer, and then a snide reference to the lawsuit she'd just been slapped with for sexually harassing an employee. But in spite of Mary Stuart's fury, Tanya handled it gracefully and seemingly with ease and a friendly smile, as she brushed it off as blackmail, and typical fare for the tabloids. But when she came off the set, her arms were glued to her sides, and she felt as though she'd spilled a glass of water under each armpit, not to mention the beginnings of a massive headache.

“So much for daytime TV,” she said to the publicity woman who had accompanied her to the set, and escorted her to her next stop, the appointment with the literary agent about doing a book about her life. But in the end the meeting held little appeal for her. All they wanted was sensationalism, not substance. She was sick of all of them by the time she called Jean that afternoon, and found out that she was once again all over the L.A. papers, and there was something in the tabloids about her husband spending a weekend in Palm Springs with an unidentified starlet.