But Alyssa was outraged at the suggestion. "Mom, for God's sake! Of course not!"

"Well, excuse me. How should I know? So what's the problem?"

Alyssa took a deep breath and launched into a long, complicated tale that sounded like one of the stories she had told in third grade that went on forever and had no ending. What it boiled down to finally was that a group of her friends were going to the Netherlands and they wanted her to go with them. It was a rare opportunity, and they would travel into Switzerland and Germany, staying with friends, or at youth hostels, and then Italy, where she had planned to meet them later. But the whole earlier part of the trip had just been organized, and as far as Alyssa was concerned, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

"That sounds great. But I still don't understand the problem."

Alyssa sighed. Her mother was so dense at times, but at least not always, like her father. "They're leaving this week. They're going to be traveling for two months, before we meet in Capri. I could give up the apartment now, and go with them except..." Her voice trailed off as Mary Stuart understood. She no longer wanted to travel around Europe with her mother. It was understandable certainly, but it was also a huge disappointment for Mary Stuart. It was all she had in her life at the moment. And she had hoped for a healing trip, alone with her only daughter, her only child now.

"I see," Mary Stuart said quietly. "You don't want to go with me." And then she cringed at her own words. She hadn't meant it the way it sounded.

"That's not it at all, Mom. And I'll still go with you if you really want to. It's just... I thought... this is such a great opportunity... but whatever you want..." She was trying to be diplomatic about it, but she was dying to go with her friends, and Mary Stuart knew it would be so much more fun for her. It didn't seem fair to stop her.

"It sounds wonderful," her mother said generously. "I think you should do it."

"Are you serious? Do you mean it? Really?" She sounded like a little kid, jumping up and down in her Paris apartment. "Oh, Mom, you're the best. I knew you'd understand... but I was afraid you'd think... I..." And then Mary Stuart suddenly understood even more, but it didn't really shock her.

"Is there a gentleman included in this plan?" She could hear it in her daughter's voice, and it made her smile, although it also made her feel nostalgic, "Well... maybe... but that's not why I want to go with them. Honestly, it's just such a great trip."

"And you're a great kid, and I love you. You owe me a trip in the fall. We'll go away somewhere together for a few days before you go back to Yale. Is that a deal?"

"I promise." But Mary Stuart knew it wouldn't be the same, she would be anxious about her friends and starting school, and coming home again. She would be easily distracted. The trip through France and Italy would have been wonderful for her, but the trip through the Netherlands with her friends would be a lot more fun for her daughter. And Mary Stuart had never hesitated to sacrifice herself for her children.

"How soon do you leave?"

"In two days, but I can get everything done." They talked about how she would ship things home, and payments that had to be made. And Mary Stuart needed to wire her money. She told her to buy traveler's checks with it, and how much to get, and they talked for a long time about the details of Alyssa's travels. And then her mother asked her if she was still planning to go to London.

"I don't think so. We weren't going to go to England at all, and when I talked to Daddy the other night, he said he was going to be really busy." He was avoiding all of them, not just his wife, but his daughter. It was of little comfort to Mary Stuart to hear it.

When they hung up, Mary Stuart sat looking out the window for a long time, at mothers and children hurrying toward the playground, and the children running there while the mothers sat on benches and chatted. She could remember those days now, as though they had happened only the day before. She had spent every afternoon in the park with her children. Some of her friends had gone to work, but she had always felt it was more important for her to be at home, and she was lucky that she had always been able to do it. And now they were gone, one grown and on her own and traveling around Europe with friends, the other to a distant place in eternity where she hoped she would one day see him again. Believing that was all she had left to hold on to.

"Take care of them," she wanted to whisper to the mothers she could see far below. "Hold on to them while you can." It was all so short, and then it was over. Like her marriage. That was over now too. She knew it for sure, had for months, and had refused to see it. But when she thought of the way he had gone, the things he had left unsaid, and the way he had walked away from her when she told him she loved him, there was no longer any doubt in her mind. And she didn't even have the comfort of thinking it was another woman. It was no one, it was him, it was her, it was time, it was the fact that tragedy had struck them, and they hadn't survived it. It was Life. But whatever had done it, she knew that her marriage had died. All she had to do now was adjust to it. She had two months to try freedom on for size, and see how she liked it.

She went out for a walk that afternoon, and thought about all of it, about Alyssa traveling with her friends, and Bill being in London for two months, and she realized something she had always known and somewhat feared, that in the end you're alone, just as she was now, without them. It was up to her to pick up the pieces, to go on, to make peace with what Todd had done, and learn to move past it. Tanya had been right when she was in town, she couldn't hide from it forever. Maybe it wasn't her fault after all, but even if it was, she couldn't continue to wear his death like a shroud until it killed her.

She went back to the apartment, and as she walked in, and set her handbag down, she knew what she needed to do. She had known it for a long time, and she had never had the courage to do it. She would have preferred not to do it alone, but it was time. It almost felt as though he were waiting for her, as though he would have approved and wanted her to do it. She opened the door to his room, and stood there for a long time, and then she opened the drapes and the blinds and let in the sunlight. She sat down at his desk, and began opening drawers, and at first she felt like an intruder going through all of Todd's papers. There were letters and old exams, and assorted memorabilia from his childhood, and an old note from Princeton about his eating club initiation. One by one, she went through his drawers, and then, fighting back tears, she went out to the kitchen. There was a stack of boxes there and she brought them back to Todd's room, and as soon as she began packing them, she started crying. But it was almost a relief to give in to tears. She spent hours in his room that night, and the phone never rang. Bill never called. He was supposed to land at 2:00 A.M. A.M. London time and would be at Claridge's by 3:30. He had no idea what she was doing, and he had told her long since to do whatever she wanted. London time and would be at Claridge's by 3:30. He had no idea what she was doing, and he had told her long since to do whatever she wanted.

It took her hours to pack his room, and when she was through there was nothing left. She had packed all his clothes into boxes, and kept only a few special things, like his old Boy Scout uniform that she found put away on a shelf, his favorite leather jacket, a sweater she had once made him. The rest was to be given away, and the papers and books she was going to put in their storage vault in the basement. She had left all his trophies lined up on a shelf. She wanted to find a home for them, and she had taken all the photographs from his room, and spread them around the apartment. It was as though he had suddenly shared something with them, as though he had left them a gift, yet another memory. She put an especially nice photograph of all of them in her own room, and another of him in Alyssa's bedroom. It was two o'clock in the morning before she was through, and it was all done by then. It was dark outside, as she stood alone in the stark white kitchen. She could almost feel him next to her, she could still see his face, his eyes, hear his voice so clearly. Sometimes she thought she was forgetting, but she knew she never would. Todd was so much more than the sum of his things to her. None of that mattered anymore, it was all gone, and what really mattered would be with her forever.

She took the dark green bedspreads off the beds, and put them in the closet to send to the cleaners, and she made a mental note to change the drapes. She had never noticed how badly they had faded. It was sad looking at his old room, it seemed so empty and so bereft, with boxes stacked everywhere all around her. It was as though he was moving somewhere. But he was already long gone. She was a year late putting away his things. She was a year late saying good-bye to him, but in the important ways she had. He would never be forgotten, and things would never be the same again. It seemed only a matter of time before she would be packing the rest of the apartment.

She looked around for a last time, and gently closed his door again. The next day, she was going to have the Goodwill pick up the things to give away, and the service manager take the rest of the boxes down to the basement. And as she walked slowly back to her room, she thought of everything that had happened in the past year, how far they had come, and how alone they all were. Alyssa was in Europe with her friends, Todd was gone, and Bill was in London for the summer. And now she was here, putting away memories, and letting go of her older child, her first baby. She looked long and hard at a photograph of him as she stood in her bedroom. His eyes were so big and bright and clear, and he had been laughing when she took the picture. She could still hear the sound of his laughter. "Oh, come on, Mom... hurry up..." He was in a wet bathing suit in Cape Cod, and he'd been freezing. He was pretending to strangle his sister, it was all in good fun, and he had run halfway down the beach afterward with the top of her bikini, with Alyssa running after him, clutching a towel and screaming. It seemed a thousand years ago, when there was still more to her life than just memories, and an empty apartment.

Mary Stuart didn't get to bed till several hours later, and when she did, she lay dreaming of all of them, Alyssa was saying something and shaking her head, and Todd was thanking her for packing his things for him. And when she looked up, she could see Bill in the distance, walking away from her, and as she called after him, he never turned around and looked at her, he just kept walking.

Chapter 6.

When Tanya got back to Los Angeles, she hadn't been sure what she would find. Tony had said he was moving out, but there was always the off chance that he hadn't. But as soon as she got home, she checked his closets and saw that they were empty. Jean was at the house, waiting for her, anxious to give her the latest report, and show her the latest horror from the tabloids. She was in the front pages again, and as usual the stories about the bodyguard who was suing her were appalling. Someone had told them that Tony had rented his own apartment, but it was only temporary, they explained, and there were more photographs of him with the starlet he had gone out with. This time he had been having dinner with her.

"It's all right... it's all right..." Tanya said to Jean, looking tired. "I know. I've seen it." She had picked up a copy at the airport. "I think I'll go to Santa Barbara for a couple of days." She needed to get away from there, from the photographers and the prying eyes and the empty closets. She didn't even have time to mourn for him, all she could think about was how to protect herself from the media.

"You can't go," Jean said matter-of-factly, handing her four sheets of schedules. "You're doing a benefit tomorrow night, and you have rehearsal for two days after that. And you have to meet with Bennett about the lawsuit over the weekend."

"Tell him I can't," Tanya said unhappily. "I need a couple of days off." She would never have welched on a benefit or skipped rehearsals. But she was not about to spend her weekend with Bennett Pearson, preparing for depositions.

"I think that's pretty firm. They're already scheduling you for depositions in the Leo Turner case, and Bennett said he got a call from Tony's lawyer this morning."

"That was fast," Tanya said, dropping into a large, comfortable, pink satin chair in her bedroom. "He sure didn't waste much time." It was as though three years had vanished into thin air overnight, and now they had to get down to business. Sometimes she wondered if that was all everything was. It was all about money, greed, and business. The agents, the lawyers, the people selling stories about her, those who wanted to be paid off so they wouldn't sue, the endless number of people who thought she owed them for her success, because she'd been fortunate and they'd been less so.

"I need a day to myself," she said to her secretary quietly, and no one in her world had any idea how much she meant it. She just couldn't do it anymore, couldn't go on, couldn't keep plugging and smiling and singing and working, for all of them. Sometimes she felt as though she worked only to pay them. There was no life left anymore. It was just work and payments.

"He thinks he can buy Leo off for five hundred grand," Jean said, pressing on, and she still had an armful of appointments and clippings, but Tanya was looking grim, and the secretary hadn't noticed.

"Fuck Leo. And you can tell Bennett I said so."

Jean nodded and went on, while Tanya wished she would drop through the floor, but Jean was not only thorough, she was relentless. "We got a call from the L.A. Times Times today. They want to know the details of the divorce, if Tony wants alimony or a settlement or both, and if you're going to give it to him." today. They want to know the details of the divorce, if Tony wants alimony or a settlement or both, and if you're going to give it to him."

"Was that from his lawyer or the paper?" Tanya looked confused and upset. There was certainly no such thing as privacy in her life, or decency, or anything even remotely human.

"It was the paper, and Tony called. He wants to talk to you about the children."

"What about them?" She lay her head back against the chair and closed her eyes, as Jean sat down across from her and went on. She never missed a beat. And she still had to tell Tanya about all her new appointments. An attorney, an accountant, a decorator who thought she should redo the house, an architect who was going to help her alter the kitchen at the beach house. Everyone had to be paid and met with and listened to, and if they somehow decided she had fallen short of their expectations of her, they would sue her. It was just the way things were, and Tanya knew it. And it didn't matter that Tanya's lawyer made them all sign confidentiality agreements, assuring her that they would not sell information to the tabloids. "Why does Tony want to talk to me about the kids?" she asked Jean again, who went back in her notes and checked. She worked a ten-or twelve-hour day sometimes. It was not an easy job, but she was well paid, and most of the time Tanya was nice to work for. And Jean liked the glory of it, going to concerts with her, being seen with her, wearing her old clothes, and living an odd kind of half-life in her shadow. She had wanted to sing too, but she didn't have the voice, the luck, or the talent. Tanya did, and she was happy just to stand beside it.

"I'm not sure," Jean answered her about the kids. "He didn't say. But he asked you to call him."

She had another half hour of business to listen to, and Jean pointed out that the housekeeper had left dinner for her in the kitchen. Tanya poured herself a glass of wine instead, went over some notes, took a file of contracts from Jean. They had been dropped off by her lawyers and were all from the promoters of the concert tour. And when Jean finally left at nine o'clock, Tanya picked up the phone and called Tony.

"Hi," she said, sounding utterly exhausted. It had been a long day from her start in New York early that morning, and there was so much waiting for her here. Sometimes she wondered if she'd survive it. "Jean said you wanted me to call."

"Yes, I did," he said, sounding uncomfortable and distant. "How was New York?"

"Nice, more or less. I saw Mary Stuart Walker, it was worth it just for that, and Felicia Davenport, They screwed me on the morning show I did, and hit me full face with all the garbage from the tabloids." She'd been through it before, nothing surprised her anymore, but she still never liked it. "And seeing the literary guy was a waste of time." But she realized as she listened to herself that she was getting sidetracked. He wasn't interested in her life anymore. "That's beside the point, isn't it, right now? Or is that all that's left, just business?"

"That's all there ever was, wasn't it? What else was there, Tanya? Your work, your concerts, your career, your benefits, your rehearsals, your music."

"Is that how you see it now? I think you've left out a few things. The things we did together... the trips we took... the kids..." There had been more in their life than just her career and her music. It wasn't fair of him now to say that, just to absolve himself for leaving her, but she was beyond arguing with him. It wasn't just her work and the pressures that got to him, she knew she had lost him because he was so humiliated over the tabloids. You had to have a thick skin to love someone with a show business career, and apparently he didn't. "What have you told the kids, by the way?" She was worried about that. She had wanted to call them from New York, but she didn't want to talk to them before Tony told them.

"Their mother took care of it for me," he said, sounding angry. "She showed them everything they ran in the tabloids."

"I'm sorry," Tanya said with genuine humility. It was so hurtful for all of them, especially the children.

"Yeah, me too," he said without sincerity. He sounded more relieved than unhappy. And then, suddenly, he sounded awkward. "In fact, Nancy wanted me to talk to you. With everything they're writing about us, she doesn't think... she thought the kids... she doesn't want to expose them to your lifestyle at the moment." He spat out the words like bad oysters.

"My lifestyle?" Tanya was totally baffled by his comment. "What lifestyle? What's changed since last week?" And then she understood. Nancy had read all the stories, and all of Leo's claims about her harassing him sexually and walking around naked. "Tony, your kids have nearly lived with us for the past three years. Has any harm ever come to them? Have I done anything wrong? What does she think I'm going to do now? What could possibly be different?"

"I'm not there anymore. She doesn't see why they should stay with you if I'm gone. They can visit you, if I'm along," he said, nearly choking on the words, even he was embarrassed by what Nancy had told him. "But she doesn't want them to stay there."

"Are we talking about visitation?" Were they already there? Was she already negotiating her divorce? And where were their lawyers?

"Eventually we will be," he explained, and they'd be talking about other things too, like the house in Malibu she'd bought with her own funds after she married Tony, but he was extremely fond of. He was the only one who used it. She never had time to, "Right now, she's talking about Wyoming."

There was a long silence on Tanya's end as the light began to dawn. Nancy was not willing to let Tanya take her stepchildren to Wyoming. "Can this be negotiated?" she asked, sounding bitterly disappointed. It was going to be such fun, and she had looked forward to it for months. Now everything had gone wrong. Tony had left her, and the kids were being kept home by their mother. "It's a great place, Tony. Everyone says it's fabulous and the kids would love it." He hadn't even wanted to go at first. None of them had. And she had a huge, luxurious three-bedroom cabin reserved for two weeks. "What am I supposed to do with my reservations?"

"Cancel them. Will they give you a refund?"

"No. But that's not the point. I wanted to do something special and different with the children."

"I can't help it, Tan," Tony said, sounding uncomfortable again. The whole thing was embarrassing. He knew how she'd been looking forward to it, and he really felt awkward, particularly since he had just left her. "Nancy says no, Tan. I did my best to convince her. Take a couple of friends. What about your old friend in New York? Mary Stuart."

"Thanks for the suggestions." But she was worried about something else now, something much more important. "I want to know what's happening here. Am I going to be allowed to see them again?" She wanted to hear it from him. They had no right to do this to her. And her eyes filled with tears as she asked him.

"Who?" He tried to sound vague, but he knew what she was asking. And it wasn't up to him, it was up to their mother.

"You know who I mean, dammit, don't play with me. The kids. Am I going to be allowed to see them?"

"Sure, I... I'm sure Nancy..." But she could tell that he was hedging.

"The truth. What deal did you make with her? Am I going to be able to see them?" She said it as though she were speaking to a foreigner, or someone from another planet. But he had very clearly understood the question, he just didn't know how to answer, without making her crazy.

"You'll have to work it out with your lawyer," he said vaguely, hoping to avoid a confrontation.

"What the hell does that mean?" She was shouting at him, and rapidly losing control. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of panic. Why was everyone always so able to take everything away from her? The money she worked so hard to earn, her reputation, now even her children. "Are you going to let me see them or not?" She was screaming and he was cringing.

"It's not up to me, Tan. If it were, you could see them anytime. It's up to their mother."

"My ass it's up to her. That bitch doesn't give a damn about them and you know it. That's why you left her." That and a few other things, like a drinking problem, a penchant for gambling, and the fact that she had slept with every man he knew. More than once, he had had to go looking for her and the kids in Vegas. But in spite of that, his children were terrific, and Tanya knew she had been good for them. She wanted to remain a part of their lives now, and Nancy had no right to stop her.

"Just work it out with your lawyer." They talked for a few more minutes and hung up, and she paced around the house that night like a lion looking for his dinner. She couldn't believe what was happening to her. He had left her, taken his life, his kids, cheated on her in Palm Springs, made a fool of her in the press, and now his ex-wife wouldn't let her see the children. But when her lawyer called her back later that night, he was not encouraging when she explained it.

"There is something called stepparents' rights," Bennett explained patiently to her, and she began to hate the sound of his voice as he went through it. It was always the same. They explained what normal people's rights were, and what celebrities' rights were, and why they were different. And with extenuating circumstances, you could count on being screwed completely. "But you have to understand, Tanya," he went on, "you have not exactly been painted like the Virgin Mary in the press of late, with the kind of accusations Leo is making. The guy has told some pretty ugly stories, and I guess Tony's ex-wife doesn't want the kids exposed to that sort of behavior. I think if you got on the stand, and her attorney questioned you, no matter how innocent you are, by the time he got through, no one would let you take those kids to high tea in St. Paul's Cathedral, let alone stay at your house, or go to Wyoming for a vacation." There were tears in her eyes as he said it. He had no idea how he had hurt her. "I'm sorry, Tanya. That's just the way it is. I think you have to let it go for now. At least until the dust settles around this lawsuit."

"But what about the next one?" she said, blowing her nose. She knew the scenario much too well now.

"What next time?" She had succeeded in confusing Bennett for a minute. "Did you pick up another case? Were you just served?" He hadn't heard anything about it.

"No, but I'm sure I will be. It's only been a week since the last one. Give Give me a few days." me a few days."

"Don't be so cynical," he said, but she was right, and he knew it. In her position, she was nothing more or less than a constant target. No wonder Tony had left her. At the moment, she hated her life as much as he did. "Anyway, let's talk about Leo," Bennett went on, ignoring her current frustration over Tony's children. There was nothing he could do about it, and he didn't want to argue in court, inevitably in front of cameras, about whether or not Tanya was in the habit of walking naked around the house in front of bodyguards, or sleeping with her trainer. He was sure she did neither, but whatever she had done in her life would come out with a vengeance. And she was, after all, a grown woman.

"I don't want to talk about Leo," she said bluntly. She was unhappy, and exhausted.

"He's willing to come down to four hundred and ninety if we jump on it now. And frankly, I think you should take it." He said it matter-of-factly, and she almost jumped off the couch and hung up on him as she listened.

"Four hundred and ninety thousand dollars?" She screamed at him and he didn't bat an eye. "Are you She screamed at him and he didn't bat an eye. "Are you nuts nuts? The guy made the whole story up, and we're going to pay him half a million bucks for it? Why doesn't he just get a part in a feature?"

"Because no one's ever heard of him and he'd have to work in four or five movies to get that. That could take him a couple of years, if he's lucky. Hitting you up for it is a lot quicker."

"That's disgusting." But it was true, that was the worst part. "I can't believe this."

"If we wait, he could double it again. May I call his lawyer tonight and say we agree? I want to make it contingent on confidentiality, of course. His attorney says he's already talking to one of the networks about a TV movie."

"Oh, my God," she groaned, and closed her eyes again. What kind of nightmare did she live in? No wonder Tony had left. Who could blame him? Tanya would have liked to leave too, but this was the only way she knew to make a living. "This is so sick, isn't it? What kind of business is this? How did I ever get into it, and why have I stayed here?"

"Would you like to see your tax returns for last year? That might offer some small comfort," he said fliply but she shook her head sadly. It was all too much. Way, way too much. It was more slime and sleaze than she had ever dreamed she'd have to live with.

"You know what, Bennett," she answered him. "It's not consolation enough for this kind of shit. This is my life these people are playing with. This is me me they're telling lies about. I've become a thing, a cash register, an object." Anyone who wanted an extra dime, a cool half mil, and was willing to either lie, cheat, or blackmail her, could have anything they wanted. For the first time, listening to her words, Bennett was silent. And he hated to press her, but he knew he had to. they're telling lies about. I've become a thing, a cash register, an object." Anyone who wanted an extra dime, a cool half mil, and was willing to either lie, cheat, or blackmail her, could have anything they wanted. For the first time, listening to her words, Bennett was silent. And he hated to press her, but he knew he had to.

"What do I say to Leo's lawyer, Tan? Give me a break here."

There was a long, unhappy pause, and then finally she nodded. She knew when she was beaten. "All right," she said hoarsely, depressed by all of it. "Tell him well pay him... the bastard..." And then, trying to push the horror from her mind, and the fact that she had just paid a man half a million dollars to tell vicious lies about her to the press, she asked Bennett another question. "What about Wyoming? Can you do something about that?"

"Like what? Buy it for you?" He was trying to tease her out of her gloom, but he knew he was not succeeding, and he didn't blame her. It was a difficult business being a celebrity, in spite of what people thought. From the out' side, it looked great, from the inside, it was filled with heartbreak. And it was impossible not to take it personally. They were human, they all did.

"Can you get her to agree to let me take the kids with me? I'll cut it down to a week if that makes a difference," although she had the reservations for two weeks.

"I'll try if you want, but I think it's pretty hopeless. And I think it's a fair bet that it'll hit the papers that you were turned down, which doesn't exactly make you look like a very moral person. And since we're pressing Leo on the confidentiality issue here, I'd rather not have all this crap dragged back into the papers."

"Great. Thanks," she said, trying to sound unaffected by all of it, but it was obvious that she was distraught over the entire conversation.

"I'm sorry, Tan," he said somberly.

"Sure, thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She was crying as she said it.

"I'll call you. We have to go over the contracts on the concert tour. I'll call you in the morning."

Her heart sank as she hung up. Her life had turned to shit over the years, and it was only at times like these that she really saw it. For all the adulation, and the thrill they talked about, the applause, the concerts, the awards, the money, this was what it really boiled down to. People making you look like a two-bit tramp, a husband who walked out without looking back, and stepchildren you never saw again. It was a wonder anyone in Hollywood could still hold their head up, or bothered to put one foot after the other.

She sat alone in her house in Bel Air that night, thinking about it, and wishing she were dead, but too unhappy and too scared to do anything about it. She thought of Ellie for the first time in years, and Mary Stuart's son, Todd. It seemed such an easy way out, and yet it wasn't. It was so totally the wrong thing to do, and yet it required a peculiar mix of cowardice and courage, and she found that she had neither.

She sat in her living room until the sun came up, thinking about all of it, wanting to hate Tony for as much as she could, and she found she couldn't do that either. She couldn't do anything except sit there and cry all night, and there was no one to hear her. And at last, she got up and went to bed. She had no idea what she was going to do about Wyoming, and she didn't even care now. She'd let Jean go and take friends, or her hairdresser, or Tony with a girlfriend. And then she remembered he was going to Europe with his girlfriend. Everyone had friends and children, and a life, and even a decent reputation. And all she had were a bunch of gold and platinum records, hanging on a wall, and a row of awards sitting on a shelf below them. But there was not much more beyond that. She couldn't imagine trusting anyone again, or even having a man willing to put up with all the garbage. It was laughable. She had made it all the way to the top, in order to find that there was nothing there that anybody wanted. She lay down on her bed, still thinking of it, and the children she would probably never see again, or not for more than a few minutes. It was as though she and Tony and his kids and their life had vanished into thin air, none of it had ever existed. Gone. In a puff of smoke... in a giant blaze... a whole life up in flames... with tabloids used as kindling.

Chapter 7.

When Tanya woke up later that day, she felt as though she had been beaten. She had hardly slept at all, and something about the settlement, the news about the kids, the fact of coming home and seeing that Tony had taken all his things, left her feeling bullied and broken. She got out of bed, and felt as though she had a hangover as she grimaced and looked in the mirror. She hadn't even had a drink the day before, but she felt rotten, and she had a dismal headache.

"God, I'm going to need another trip to the plastic surgeon after all this," she said to her reflection once she walked into the bathroom. She ran a hot bath, and slipped slowly into it, and she felt a little better. She had a benefit to do that night, and it was a cause she really cared about, and she wanted to deliver for them. She had a short rehearsal that afternoon, and by noon she had to be on the merry-go-round again, chasing all her myriad obligations, She walked into the kitchen in her dressing gown, made herself a cup of coffee, and reached for the morning paper. For once, she hadn't made the front page, and neither had her soon-to-be ex-husband, or any of her employees, past or present. That at least was something. She turned each page gingerly, as though waiting to find a tarantula between the pages. But the only thing that caught her eye was a story about a doctor in San Francisco called Zoe Phillips. Tanya read it avidly, and when she finished it she was smiling. Zoe was one of her old college roommates. She sounded as though she was doing remarkably, not surprisingly. She had started the most important AIDS clinic in the city, and apparently ran it with an absolute genius for obtaining funds, and turning loaves into fishes. She was feeding homeless people with AIDS, housing them, treating them, and also large segments of the more affluent AIDS-infected population. The article made her sound like the Mother Teresa of San Francisco. And Tanya was so touched after what she read, that she reached for her telephone book, looked up the number, and called her. She hadn't talked to her in two years, but they always exchanged cards at Christmas. Tanya knew she was the only one still in touch with her. Mary Stuart had lost contact with her years before. They had never patched up the rift between them that occurred when Ellie died, and Mary Stuart didn't even like to hear about her. But Tanya was fond of both of them, and when a nurse answered the phone, she asked for Dr. Phillips.