I get the next flight to Los Angeles, and my mom seems relieved to see me moving forward. She smiles as she kisses me goodbye, and dad gives me a big hug. He has never been one to say too much, but he doesn't have to. He grips my shoulder and smiles at me, then turns away.
"I love you, dad."
He grunts and waves me off as he turns away, and I know he's choking up. I laugh a little as mom hugs me and kisses my cheek. "Give us a call an let us know you got home, okay?"
"I will."
"We're proud of you. You look good, baby."
"Thank you. For everything." She smiles and hugs me again, then gives me a shove toward the plane.
When I arrive in Los Angeles, I have a town car bring me straight to Lindsey's. I don't even know if he's there, but I have to try. We pull into the driveway and he opens the door for me, then starts to open the trunk.
"Don't unload just yet," I say, and jog toward the door. I hesitate before I knock, suddenly terrified. Before I can even knock, the door swings open and I'm standing face to face with a very disheveled Lindsey. "Hi."
"Hi." He stares at me, obviously not really sure what to do.
"Can I come in?"
"You're back."
"Guess so."
"You... look really good."
"I've only been gone for about 6 weeks, Lindsey."
"Come on in," he finally says, bringing me into the living room.
"I got your letter."
"I knew you'd get to Scottsdale."
"You can't leave the band. You can't quit everything, Lindsey."
"You got your space. Maybe I need mine right now."
"I didn't go to get away from you. You have to know that."
"I'm not sure that I do."
"You really think I was running away from you?"
"Every time we get close you disappear."
"Not everything is about you! Did you forget what I've been through this year? Did you really not notice that I was completely sedated all the time and couldn't even function? When have you ever, in all the time that you've known me, had to force me into the studio to sing?"
"I guess I thought you just needed time."
"I needed more than time. I needed help."
"And... you got it?"
"I did."
"I have been so worried about you."
"I'm okay now. I'm off the pills. I've lost some of the weight. I'm ready to work."
"I'm not."
"You look... awful," I say honestly, laughing a little. He laughs with me, and reaches out to squeeze my knee.
"I'm so glad you're okay."
"I missed you. Every day."
"Not as much as I missed you," he says, and I honestly believe him. He looks wrecked. "Stevie, I know you're going to try to get me to go back to the band, and I can't."
"Why not?"
"This is just too toxic. For everyone. Mick and Chris and I have been fighting, who knows where you and I will be, there's no creative energy anymore. I'm dry. I need to step back."
"I can't go without you, Lindsey. I won't do it. Going out on the road..."
"You can do it. I know you can," he says, smiling at me. "They need you more than they need me."
"That's not true and you know it. You know it!" He shakes his head, and I feel myself getting angry. "You're really going to leave me now."
"You, of all people, are going to lecture me about leaving?"
"That's a low blow."
"You are barely back, and you are already forbidding me to go. You should know that sometimes you just can't stay."
"Don't go, Lindsey. I can't..."
"You've been just fine without me on your last couple tours," he says, and I know he's making a dig at my solo tours. He was never truly comfortable with them. "Go. Do what you know how to do. You're going to be fine. It's my turn to go now."
"When you leave the band, you're leaving me." I know it's a leap, but he knows exactly what I mean.
"I don't know what else to do."
"Okay, then. I guess... that's it." I get up to leave and storm out of the room. He catches me easily and stops me at the front door.
He grabs me and pulls me against him, kissing me. I know it's a goodbye, at least for now. I slap him and storm back out to the car, still waiting in the driveway.
Back in Los Angeles for an hour and I'm already crying.
