It was a most lovely afternoon to be in the October LA sun poolside. Our time here in the United Sates was nearly spent. I was feeling amazing after a day had passed from my ecstasy trip, as was Roger. I couldn’t help but manage a broken smile as I saw a slightly worn and frazzled Veronica sitting at the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. I approached her, my heels clicking in my wake. She looked up, appearing to be rather surprised at my appearance. I watched her look at me, an expression crossing her face that was reminiscent of partial relief and partial embarrassment. I stopped before her, my heels clicking once more. I took a drag on my cigarette and looked at her. She shook her head and I could tell she had been crying at some point.

 “You’re the only person here wearing a pair of stilettos at the pool.” She said.

 “You’re the only person here who looks miserable in LA.” I slipped the back of one shoe off, followed by the other as I sat down beside her, slipping my feet into the water as she did. I put a hand on her back and it was all she needed to come completely unfolded. Here she was, my best friend, unraveling in a wail of tears on my shoulder. I put my head on hers and my other hand on her shoulder. “Come on…let it out. I know everythin’.” I told her. It only made her cry harder. Roger and I had to have a re-hash of our conversation the day after our ecstasy come down episode. Hell, I had no idea what he had said to me the day before. We had a conversation….a lengthy one and what I had learned was a bit shocking to say the least. I was the only saving grace in this situation and that’s precisely why John got Roger alone and told him to tell me to….well, here we were.

 “How did you know I was here?” she asked in her weepiness.

 “Your husband.” I said. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” she shook her head. There weren’t many people near the pool anyway. “Talk to me…” I let her weep for a few moments longer as she found the words she wanted to say.

 “I hate myself! I just…I can’t…I haven’t…” she stumbled around what she needed to say, so I filled in the blanks for her.

 “Post-partum isn’t your fault. Roger says you’ve been suffering with it since Michael was born.” I said. She wiped her eyes and  sniffed.

 “About a month after he was born it began to set in hard. It started with….with looking in the mirror and hating the woman staring back at me because I didn’t recognize her anymore! I have these two beautiful boys and every time Robbie or Michael would need me or call to me or cry for me….” She wept again. “…I…I just wanted to hide from it all. I am a horrible mother! I am an even more horrible wife!” she said through her sobbing.

 “Veronica, you are not horrible so stop saying that. Post-partum depression is treatable. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You love your children more than anythin’ and you love John. You know that. Hell, you haven’t even talked to me about the things going on in your life. How can I help you when I don’t know?” I said, holding her tighter against me.

 “It’s been horrible. I’ve had a complete disinterest in the boys, I’m short with John and he’s so good with the kids. I…I haven’t slept with him in months because I’m afraid to look in the mirror and….” Veronica stopped, regaining her composure a little. We were about go get into the meat of it all.

 “That’s the easy stuff to fix…let’s talk about the rest.” I whispered to her. Veronica wiped her eyes again and looked at me with that helpless little girl stare…the stare of a broken heart.

 “It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! I need you to look at me….I need you to look at me and tell me honestly how the hell you cope! How did you get past it!? Why does it not tear you into a million pieces!? It makes me so angry that you…you can just…have this…this seemingly normal marriage and I…” Veronica cried some more before continuing.  “I yelled at you….I yelled at you because…I…I couldn’t handle it. I was so jealous of you, Lydia. You and Roger are…you’re…” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t say this to you but I need to know how you got there! Lydia, John made out with a fan…it was just making out and I can’t deal with it! I always thought I could! I swear to god I think this is more of the problem than the post-partum! It’s not fair! You have…you have been through seven fucking affairs and two simultaneous STDs… look at you! How in god’s name….how did you…how the fuck do you get to the point where it doesn’t hurt anymore!? How do you get past it? I know I shouldn’t be upset over this because you…you have…I’m sorry….god I’m so sorry…” Her crying was drawing some attention from the people around us. I let her cry on my shoulder. Chrissie had been right, I was the only one who could get her through this because no one else could relate. I rubbed on her back, my head still on top of hers as my shoulder caught her tears.

 "I met Roger on June 28th 1971, he could wear a 32 suit, a small t-shirt and a 71 pants...that's a 28 inch waist in the US size. He was such a scrawny little thing. Of course, he was so broke that if he ate twice a day he was lucky. Roger has gone up not quite two trouser sizes. He wears a 34 suit and a medium t-shirt…and he’s still just as sexy if not sexier than the day I met him. I watched his hair grow out past his shoulders and I watched him cut it off. My point, Veronica, is that he’s still him. He’s still the same man I met on June 28th, 1971 despite everything in between. Celebrity entitlement clouds your vision, makes you lose focus and it takes it’s toll on the mind and body. I used to sit in the floor of the house we rented and let him talk about how exhausted he was while I doctored his wounded and bloody hands from shows. When the stage lights go out and when the makeup comes off all your have is the one person you can lean on.” I looked over my shoulder and flipped my light cigarette into the brush. “I never said it doesn’t hurt especially when you give up so much of yourself for someone else. I never said there isn’t an amount of betrayal that comes with it. But…there is one factor that’s very important to remember: it’s physical. John was done with that girl immediately after what was done was done. There’s no emotions tied to it. Whomever it was, wanted that proximity…to be near someone famous. They wanted to be desired if even for ten minutes/ They wanted to say I made out with John Deacon.It’s temporary and it's because there is a hollow shell inside.” I stopped there as her tears subsided, the warm LA breeze rippling the water of the pool. “That man loves you, so dearly. He loves you, Veronica.  She shook her head.

 “How…how were you ever able to get back into bed with Roger after that first time? I’ve barely been able to go to sleep at night with John. I’ve slept mostly when he’s awake and I don’t have to face him. How did you do it?

 “How many men do you think I’ve been with?” I asked of her, knowing it was something we had never discussed.

 “Huh?” she asked. I was going somewhere with this, but I needed to have her guess.

 “Before I met Roger, how many men do you think I bedded?” Veronica shrugged.

 “Uh…I don’t know….maybe….ten? Twelve?” she guessed. I looked at her intently. “Oh….oh god….uh…fifteen?” I continued to look at her. “Twenty?” Her face was very serious.

 “Thirty-seven.” I answered her. “Thirty-seven. That’s not counting any random blow jobs. My point is this. I used to be that girl. I used to be the hollow shell of a girl. I used to be the one with the proximity. The daughter of an affluent breeder of race horses...boys and married men alike practically lined up at my door for the honor of saying they had fucked Lydia Campbell. They didn’t care about me; I didn’t care about them. It was physical....I was that girl who made out with John. I was once just like her. I haven't been that girl for years now beause Roger tamed me. And when he needed it most, I tamed him. Roger was nothing more than a notch in my bedpost...until I fell in love with his stupid arse.” I was very silent for a moment. “I don’t want to sit here and tell you to get over it because that’s not right but I will tell you that you have a man who loves you…a man who would fall off the end of the Earth for you….a man who fell victim to entitlement. That’s all it is, sweetheart. You get over the entitelment and you conquer anything.” I moved the hair from her face. My words had softened her eyes. I could see my Veronica coming back to life.  “You and John….think about when you met. You were on completely even terms. Your entire marriage has been built on the two of you sharing things equally. You’ve both been suffering equally. It’s time to take the power of your relationship back.” I finally managed to get a smile out of Veronica. "Don't be afaid to defend him. I know you want to. The shock hurts but what hurts worse is potentially losing the man you know and love....that's real pain."

 “I can’t believe I’m sitting here taking relationship advice from someone who willingly invited another woman into her bed.” Veronica had to laugh and so did I.

 “Hey…I know you’re being so pissed off at be about that wasn’t about the threesome. I knew somethin’ was up. “ I hugged her again.

 “The thing is…you’re right. You’re right about absolutely everything.” Veronica let out a sigh of relief. “You know, it feels so good to talk about this to someone who….who listens and…knows exactly how to get me back in perspective. God…” she wiped her eyes again. “I feel so much better just knowing that you know why I’ve not been at myself. I swear I’ve been more worried about a kiss than post-partum.” She confessed and smiled again. 

 “You’re my best friend. You need someone to lean on. You never know, I may need to lean on you. Don’t be afraid to ever lean on me. You know that.” I told her. It forced a smile across her face.

 “Thank you…thank you for helping me….when I…when I was so judgmental toward you.” She said, feeling saddened by her previous actions.

 “You missed my birthday party.” I said as pouty as I could.

 “I know I did! And I’m so, so sorry! I just feel so terrible that I missed your party.” Tears welled up in Veronica’s eyes again.

 “I feel more terrible that you’ve missed out on your life.” I said, pausing a moment. “Although, you also missed Freddie trying to whore Brian out for $50.” I said. Veronica laughed again, it felt so good to hear her laughter.

 “Oh my god, he did not do that!” she insisted.

 “He sure as hell did! Fred tried to sell Brian, Roger and I took ecstasy which we will never do again, we went to McDonald’s, John and Roger might experiment with each other someday…you missed it.” I said, recapping the nights’ events for her. She laughed again, sincerely and wholeheartedly. Amazing how a little bit of talking and a little bit of listening could completely heal a person.

 “I hear Roger bought you a Corvette.” She said. I shook my head.

 “The very one I wanted.”

 “Okay, tell me the truth….the truth about your threesome. You ravaged Debbie Harry while Roger wanked off and watched, am I right?” Veronica asked. I laughed at her, my hand running all over her back.

 “Well, that’s how the night started…it got a littler more slippery than that.” As I looked into Veronica’s tear stained eyes and looked at her big smile back at me; I could tell that she was going to be okay. Reassurance. That’s what she needed. Reassurance that John wasn’t cheating on her. Reassurance that she was okay. Reassurance that he physical was temporary but a rock was forever. We sat there beside the Ritz-Carlton pool, our conversation having not come to an end, talking like the two friends we had been for years. We didn’t have much time left in Los Angeles. It was time for her to live again.