I'm not sure how long I had been standing there when I finally spoke. It could have been seconds, it could have been years- I was just talking it all in, trying to process the fact that he was actually standing in front of me, in the flesh.
He dropped his duffel at the door, wrapping me in a big hug, his face reflexively burying itself in the crook of my neck as I heard him breathe deeply, smelling my hair.
"Wha- what are you doing here?" I heard myself say as we slightly pulled out of our embrace.
He laughed, "Two and a half years and that's how you greet me, Stevie? Can I at least come in? After all, I did just race halfway around the world to get to you."
I stood aside and opened the door all the way, letting him in and still looking for my words.
He surveyed the area, stepping further into the living room.
"Can I get you anything," I asked. "I have still and sparking water, wine, ummm..." I peered into the kitchen.
He crossed the room back towards me, and as if we had seen each other every day for the last month, and gently kissed my forehead. "I'll open us a bottle of wine," he told me, though he had never before been in my home, "and then maybe we can sit out and enjoy this beautiful view. Oh," he added, handing me the large bouquet, "these are, obviously, for you."
I nodded my thanks and moved to arrange them into a glass in the kitchen, following him out to the back yard and placing them on the table as he handed me a glass of Pinot Noir. It was then that I snapped back to reality. What in the hell did he want from me?
"Lindsey, how did you find me here?" I asked, a little more curtly than I intended.
He looked up at me, completely serious, knowing I needed the truth and that I meant business.
"Honestly, Stevie," he sat down his glass and leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands and shifting his weight to lean his elbows on the arms of my patio furniture, all the while never breaking eye contact with me. "I haven't stopped searching for two years. I think I checked every property you own daily for about 6 months, I've called Karen approximately two million times, I've sent you letters, I've visited your parents, and hell, I even hired a detective but all I could come up with was that you were somewhere in Italy. I even checked into every contact I could come up with to locate you in Venice about a year ago."
"...but yet here you sit," i interjected, still puzzled.
"I ran into Karen at the studio," he continued. "When she wasn't looking I opened a folder and jotted down your address. I still can't believe I got that lucky," he told me, watching my face for a reaction.
I too was surprised when I wasn't mad. It irritates me to no end that after 2 years of avoiding him he could be so hard headed to assume he was welcome, but the truth was that I wasn't turning him away and we both knew it.
His tone softened. "Please don't be mad, angel. I just had to find you."
It's hard to argue when your heart skips a beat. And mine just did. I sat down, still a few questions remaining. "But Lindsey wasn't that just yesterday that you ran into Karen?"
He blushed a little bit.
"Yeah, uh, I booked the next flight out of LAX and came straight here."
I moved a little bit closer to him, making a gesture to be amicable but not all together inviting, but wishing to change the subject before I became an emotional wreck. "So, Lindsey Buckingham, what have you been for the last two years." I smiled, eager to hear him fill me in, crossing my fingers that I wasn't about to get any news that would break my heart, and putting up a wall in a vain effort to keep him emotionally distant.
After a long talk about seemingly nothing and several glasses of wine we both loosened up and he agreed to walk to my favorite restaurant- a cozy little place with fresh pasta and sauce that had been simmering for hours. The streets were abustle this time of night with people going on with their lives all around us, and I think it caught him off guard. If we were out like this a few years ago in California we would have been approached countless times already, bulbs of paparazzi flashing in our faces. I could see him relaxing the longer we walked undisturbed and it made me hopeful for our evening. If we could just get through one amicable discussion of past events he would be able to go on his way and I could resume my daily life with a little bit of closure.
It was a warm evening, the sun only now beginning to set on the horizon and I was thankful that I had chosen to wear my hair up and off my shoulders, pulling it into a large loose bun after we began walking, as t was particularly warm this evening. The silence was comfortable between us as we strolled through the old, narrow streets while I lead the way. My mind began to wander, my nerves suddenly coming to the surface again about the proverbial elephant in the room, and the thought of an uneasy meal full of forced small talk with the person who knew my soul better than anyone else on earth was getting to me. I reflexively clutched the charm on the end of the long gold necklace between my thumb and forefinger and slightly bit my bottom lip as we rounded the final corner to our destination. This is not s date, I told myself. Calm down and be strong, I coached, standing up a little taller. Not a date, not a date, not a date, I repeated in my head.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, causing me to look over at Lindsey. He smiled naturally and tucked a strand of my loose hair away.
"Relax, it's just me," he soothed, reading my mind. His eyes were so welcoming, and I felt myself nod in agreement.
We entered the restaurant and were seated at s private table in a corner. We enjoyed a beautiful meal and I had been worried about nothing. I know better than to be nervous around Lindsey; when it comes down to it he is my other half. It's always so comfortable and I truly enjoyed his presence, I'd missed it more than I'd given him credit for. He kept the conversation lighthearted, which I appreciated, and I giggled most of the night.
Leaving the restaurant we were both a little tipsy. As we walked down the street he stopped in front of a drugstore and laughed. "I left in such a hurry this morning," he told me, "that I didn't pack a razor. I should pop in and grab one."
I shook my head lifting to run my fingers along the stubble growing in on his jaw, giving it the softest of scratches and then patting him lightly on the cheek. "Nah," I shook my head. "Let it grow. I like it like this."
It seemed to appease him and he grabbed my hand, walking the rest of the way back in silence. My mind began reeling once again. I shouldn't have touched him, I scolded myself. I wasn't going to allow myself to go there again and I knew I had just ignited a spark between us.
Entering my home I could tell he was exhausted as he stifled a yawn. He had probably been up for hours traveling, and I was sure the jet lag was giving him hell. I told him to go to sleep, that we could talk in the morning. He seemed compliant until I showed him to the guest room.
"Baby, please. Just let me sleep in your room," he half whispered into my ear, running his hand up my arm. "It's been so long."
"Lindsey," I signed a bit, staring at my feet. "We can't- I can't just jump back into bed with you after everything I've been through."
"Everything you've been through," he began to raise his voice but immediately softened as he saw my eyes grow wide. "Stevie I've been searching for you and now I've finally found you and all I want is to be able to pull you close."
He grabbed my hands, touching his forehead to mind.
"It's just too much for me right now," I told him, "and we've both had too much wine and too little sleep. Get some rest, Linds. I'll see you in the morning."
And with that I turned away and retreated to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I refused to move backwards and fall into setting that would only show me pain one more time.
To quote him, I wasn't going back again.
