About time

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I'm nervous. Why would I be nervous? I don't know what exactly, but something in Stevie's voice... It made me feel as if I was the last person she wanted to talk to. Did I do something and I'm so blind and fucking stupid that I didn't realize it? No, I'm sure she would have yelled it at me. Maybe I should have just hung up the phone, instead of pushing her for a meeting. Clearly, that's not what she wanted.

The closer I am to her house, the more anxious I get. I try to shake myself mentally, closing my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, when I suddenly hear a car horn beep. I open my eyes and I've nearly collided with another car, pulling out of Stevie's driveway. Jesus... I didn't quite catch who was sitting behind the wheel, but what I'm certain of is that it was a man.

Getting out of the car, I hesitate, slowly walking towards the front door. I used to own a key some time ago, but Stevie asked for me to give it back, when she was seeing someone and it was 'serious'. She's had so many serious relationships over the years that I've lost count.  Getting rid of these thoughts, I ring the bell and shortly after, the door opens and I smile at Alex, who says hello, quickly running past me with his backpack hanging on one shoulder. Stevie, apparently, isn't the only one that I've drifted apart from.

Even though I can't see her, I invite myself in, calling her name. "I'll be right there." She shouts from upstairs, so I stand awkwardly and wait, sticking my hands into my pockets. I haven't been here for a while, although, looking around I see that not much has changed. 

"Hey." 

I hear and look up, a small smile on my lips, as I give a nod of my head. "Hey there."

How on earth is she still so beautiful? I realize I'm staring as she's climbing the stairs down, but I can't resist. She's wearing her usual leggings, but instead of a loose fitting blouse, she has a simple tank top on, with her hair in a high ponytail, barefoot. I'd give absolutely anything to be able to see her like this every day. 

"So, do you want something to drink?" Stevie asks and something tells me I didn't hear her the first time she asked the same question. 

"Um, sure. A cup of coffee, please." I say and follow after her into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, I watch her move around and I can't ignore my chest tightening because of how domestic it feels and how much I want it. Still want it.

"Well, say something." She glances at me, before busying herself with making coffee. "You wanted to come over and I doubt it was so we could sit in silence."

Since she wasn't keen on discussing her tour, the next worst thing slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. "Who was that leaving your driveway?"

"None of your business." 

"I'm just asking, Stevie. Alex mentioned you had company yesterday, so..."

"So, you assumed that he and I are having sex?" 

"No, I assumed it's one of your serious relationships." She glares at me and I instantly apologize. "I didn't mean that. It's just that... well, I want to know who's around my son." I see her bite into her lower lip, obviously fighting back a remark. 

"Why are you here, Lindsey?" She sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms. 

"Believe it or not, I missed you. We haven't seen each other since that show in July. While my life is pretty boring, I see, you have a lot going on."

"So, you do want to bitch about my tour then." She brings me my coffee, takes one for herself, yet she doesn't take a seat. That's her keeping distance between us. 

"Well, I don't really understand your decision, I admit. We've asked you for so long to add a couple of your songs to the new album, Stevie. You just keep giving us one excuse after another. I guess, you leaving is an excuse as well."

"Not everything is about you or Fleetwood Mac. I recorded my solo album and I put it aside, because of the band. I didn't go on tour then, I put Fleetwood Mac first. We were on the road for two years, I need a break from all of you. You just don't seem to understand that. I'm sorry that I have a career outside the band. Besides, Mick is touring as well. Nobody seems to be having a problem with him."

"And I don't have a career outside the band? Christine doesn't?" 

Inhaling deeply, she says. "I don't want to be mean, but Chris hasn't done anything with her solo for a while and she doesn't seem to have a need for it. You, well, you released an album and toured as well, didn't you? I don't remember saying anything to you about that."

"It's different."

"How the hell is that different?" Her voice grows higher and she's obviously getting angry. "You did your own thing in between Fleetwood Mac and that's exactly what I'm doing, too! What, did you expect a few short months after a massive world tour I was going to go out again?"

"We're not talking about a tour right now, Stevie." I'm surprised I've managed to stay considerably calm so far. "It's an album. It's us, four people, asking you to come into a studio for several hours a day."

"I don't want to do that! I just don't. At least not yet." She shakes her head, looking straight me.

"Then tell me why? Because clearly, you've had your rest."

"Because I know how recording gets. We'll argue and after we've argued for a year or so, I know that I will most definitely not want to promote the album on a tour. On With The Show was a nice experience, it was a group of people celebrating years of working together. That's not going to happen if we try to do it after leaving a studio."

"That's it? Just because we're going to fight, you don't want to record another album." 

"I'm tired of fighting." She shrugs. "Besides, you all seem to be having a great time without me anyway."

"What does that mean?" I frown, not quite catching what she has in mind. 

"Those recent interviews? Mick saying that, well, Lindsey and Christine work so perfectly together, they're songs are so damn great, that it might just be a duet album with Mick on drums and John on bass! Mick saying that if Stevie doesn't want to be a part of it, then fine." She tries to turn away from me, but I notice her eyes are filled with tears. "I don't want to go into that. It almost feels to me like you want my contribution, because you know that fans do, that's all."

A little lost for words, I get up from my spot and walk over to her, placing my hands on her shoulders I turn her around. "Steph, that's so far from the truth. We want you, because you're you. Because Fleetwood Mac consists of five people and without one of them, it's not the same. I know you're really hesitant about doing it, but Stevie, if you don't, you're going to regret it. If you don't join us and we go on with releasing that album... then you'll be hurt."

Hanging her head, she shakes it slightly, brushing my hands off her shoulders, walking away from me. "I'm already crying and we're just talking about it."

"Don't get mad, but you're just getting the wrong impression, Steph. It's not at all what you think it is."

After a long moment of silence, I hear her sniffle as she looks at me with red eyes. "I think you should do it without me. We're not getting any younger and I don't know how long it's going to be until I can join you."

Running a hand through my hear, I breathe out heavily. "Don't say that. I... I can't imagine doing it without you. I can't imagine anything without you and I don't want to."

"Well, maybe it's about time you do." Tears slip out of her eyes and I feel my throat close up. "What good has ever come out of it? You and I, together..."

"Stop. Just stop talking." I shake my head, feeling my own tears threatening to spill. 

I stare at her and she looks so sad, so broken, that I can't help approaching her and enveloping her in my arms. We stand like that for several minutes, I think, as I then caress her cheek with my hand, lifting her chin up for our eyes to meet, leaning in to kiss her lips. 

But before I can do that, she turns her head and my lips connect to the side of her face.




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