The Ranch

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?”