“I think you've made a pact with the devil,” Mary Stuart complained. “It's not fair to the rest of us. What do you admit to now? Thirty-one? Twenty-five? Nineteen? They're going to think I'm your mother.”

“Oh, shut up. You look ten years younger than you are and you know it.”

“I wish.” But Mary Stuart knew just how hard the past year had been on her. In spite of what Tanya said, she could see it in the mirror.

They went to J.G. Melon's, as they had for years, and commented on the faces they still saw, or no longer did, and Tanya told her she was going on tour that winter.

“What does Tony think about that?” Mary Stuart looked at her over her hamburger, and there was a brief lull in the conversation, and then Tanya glanced up at her, and her expression spoke volumes.

“I haven't told him. I haven't actually seen much of him in the past few days. We… uh… I think I have a little problem.” Mary Stuart frowned in concern and listened. “He… uh… went to Palm Springs for a few days, and he thinks maybe we need a break this summer. He says he's going to Europe, while I take the kids to Wyoming.”

“Is he going on a religious pilgrimage, or is there something you're not saying?”

“No.” Tanya put her hamburger down, and looked at her old friend soberly. “I think there's something he's not saying yet, but he will. He just doesn't know it yet. He thinks he's still trying to make the decision. But I know the signs. He's already made it.”

“What makes you think he has?” Mary Stuart felt sorry for her, but she was not surprised either. Tanya's lifestyle inevitably caused a lot of casualties, and both of them knew that. But as she talked about it, Tanya looked disappointed and unhappy.

“I think he has, because I'm not as young as the doctor makes me look.” Mary Stuart smiled at her comment. “I've seen a lot of fatalities. He's already gone, he just doesn't know it. He can't take this pressure anymore, apparently, the lawsuits, the tabloids, the attacks, the slurs, the embarrassment, the humiliation. I can't say I blame him.”