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.”
