Lindsey nursed his third cup of coffee as he absentmindedly thumbed through a newspaper. He took a bite of his buttered toast and frowned, leaning forward and spitting the half-chewed food onto the plate. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it onto the plate. The man had been distracted for over an hour and let his breakfast get cold. He rubbed his hand over his face and yawned, extending his arms over his head and stretching. Lindsey glanced at the clock on the wall and grumbled under his breath. An hour and a half. He pushed the chair away from the table and stood, strolling out of the kitchen and to the stairs. He needed to fall into bed and simply sleep. Lindsey snuck into the bedroom and fell onto the bed, landing in the middle and not bothering to move.
Another hour and a half later, Stevie escorted the fifty something Chinese American psychiatrist out of her home and thanked him for his time with her, blushing at his compliments about her progress. She closed the front door and leaned against it as a proud, satisfied smile broke across her lips. Two weeks ago, she had fought Lindsey tooth and nail over his recommendation of her being placed under Dr. Wong's care, but it had been the best idea. She was now taking less than two milligrams of the prescription drug. Dr. Wong's plan was to wean her off the medication. Her dose would be reduced by 0.5 milligrams every two weeks until she reached one milligram then it would be decreased by 0.25 milligrams until stopped altogether. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken such a small amount.
Stevie let out a content sigh and wandered up the stairs, knowing she would find Lindsey in bed. Her insomnia had been terrible the night before, but he had stayed awake with her every other night sleeplessness attacked her. She tiptoed into her room and put a knee at the foot of the bed, crawling towards her lover and watching him snooze. Stevie tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned down to kiss the back of his head before tucking herself next to him. She didn't know what she had done to deserve him the last few weeks. He'd packed a bag and stayed with her every day since her decision to detox. Lindsey had held her hair back when the nausea become too much, hummed Stephanie to her during anxiety attacks, put up with her irritability since Dr. Wong wasn't allowing her to have caffeine, nicotine, or alcohol, and held her hands when they shook. She placed his arm over her and nestled into his side.
Lindsey mumbled in his sleep, turning his head and scrunching his nose as her honey tresses tickled his face. He put his head against her chest. "How'd it go?" he asked, voice thick and hoarse with sleep.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she responded, playing in his tangled, wild curls.
"How'd it go?"
"Under two milligrams," Stevie informed him with a smile.
He lifted his head to look at her. "Baby, that's great. I'm proud of you," he said, meeting her halfway for a kiss.
"Linds, I still have a long way to go," she confessed. Some days she wanted to snap her fingers and be clean, but she knew it wasn't possible. It was hard, demanding work and a daily struggle. She'd learned that from her dabbling into cocaine.
"I know, but you'll get there," Lindsey spoke confidently. He knew she would win the battle since she had been the one to realize she needed help. The light was back in her eyes. He hadn't realized how much light had left until he witnessed it coming back to her. More and more each day he saw the girl he fell in love with in the late 1960s. He put his head back down and breathed out a relaxed sigh.
"I hate how he's a morning person," Stevie complained as she stretched out one of his curls, laughing softly as it sprang back into place. "No one should be that damn cheerful before noon. I tried to make an afternoon appointment with him."
"I told him you weren't a morning person," Lindsey informed her sheepishly.
"Thanks, Lindsey," she retorted acerbically. "You're probably the reason why he wants to see me at an ungodly hour of the day."
He chuckled, shaking his head and pulling a face. "Some people don't think ten o'clock in the morning is early. There are people that wake up at 6AM on the dot each and every morning."
"Well, I don't want to know those people," Stevie griped. "Don't roll your eyes at me either."
Lindsey smirked, trailing his fingertip along the pattern of her top. He decided to change the subject before she smacked him upside the head for being condescending. "When are you leaving for Dallas?"
"Thursday," she answered his question reluctantly. "I still don't think you should go. I'll be back home on Saturday." Stevie took a breath, praying the matter wouldn't turn into a fight like it had earlier in the week. She was playing at the International Tribute to Jane Goodall.
He nipped at her cleavage with his teeth to show his annoyance and sat up, staring at her. She narrowed her eyes, glaring as she put her hand over the exposed skin of her breast and sat up. "You bit me!" she shrieked in disbelief.
"Yes, I did! You're being stubborn. What if something happens and I'm not there?"
"Lindsey, you've put your life on hold for weeks. I know you have things to do! You have that meeting with the Reprise executives."
"I can cancel the meeting. Reschedule for another time."
"You are not cancelling it to pack up and go with me to Texas. I will be absolutely, totally fine. If I feel nervous or like I can't handle it, I'll call you," she told him, taking his hands in hers. Stevie lifted his hands to her lacquered lips and placed innocent, soft kisses to each knuckle in an effort to pacify him. "I promise."
"You better," he replied, beginning to pout like a child.
She shook her head, running a hand through his curls. "Don't pout," she warned, tugging roughly at his hair to get her point across. Stevie bowed into his side, hovering close to his ear and whispering, "or you won't get any tonight."
He simpered and squeezed her thigh, eyes flashing playfully. Stevie began shaking her head as she scooted away from him. "Lindsey," she said firmly, shaking her finger at him primly. "Don't you dare."
"I'm not doing anything," he answered, inching closer to her and grinning wickedly.
"Your eyes say otherwise," she noted, swearing as her back hit the headboard of the king-sized bed. Lindsey pounced on her. His fingers tickled at her sides as his mouth made a meal of her neck, nibbling and sucking. Stevie wiggled and bucked against him. Her laughter swiftly filling the air. "Lindsey," she squealed. "Stop! You're going to leave a hickey on my neck!" She pushed at him. "Lindsey!"
Lindsey stopped briefly. "That's the idea, babe," he replied, setting back to work on his love bite. She snickered at his need to mark his territory. Stevie knew she'd feel like a teenager covering it with concealer and foundation until it faded. He pulled away from her neck and kissed her lips hungrily. Stevie curled her legs around him. "Take me now, Lindsey," she murmured, deciding not to wait until the night fell. An afternoon of love making never hurt a soul, and perhaps the sexual release would quiet the gnawing, nagging feeling that had settled into her bones.
In the middle of the night, Stevie woke up after having that dream for the hundredth time and carefully untangled herself from Lindsey without waking him. She padded into the bathroom and momentarily looked at herself in the mirror, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on her face. She gripped the edges of the sink and drew in a deep breath, wishing the wave of queasiness would pass quickly. Stevie straightened and dabbed her face with a hand towel then crept back into the bedroom. Keeping an eye on Lindsey, she pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and took out her bulky address book. She took her eyeglasses off the table and walked out of the bedroom with the book tucked under her arm.
Downstairs, she dropped onto the chaise lounge and put on her glasses, tipping them to the edge of her nose. She folded her legs to sit Indian style as she flipped through the pages in the book. Her long, red nail skimmed over the names until she tapped on what she was looking for. She leaned over, picking up the phone and nestling the receiver between her ear and shoulder. Stevie dialed the number and waited for an answer on the other end.
Within the hour, she was in the backseat of a Lincoln Town Car and gazing out through the darkly tinted windows of a not yet bustling Los Angeles. She opened a pack of peppermint gum, shoving a piece in her mouth and chewing nervously. Stevie wanted a cigarette badly to relax her nerves, but she had discarded all her packs. She popped the gum and ran her fingers through her hair. After a few moments, she stopped fidgeting, closing her eyes and folding her hands in her lap until the car came to a halt.
"Ms. Nicks, we're here," the driver declared, parking the car in front of an office complex.
She nodded her head and opened the door, glancing at the driver. "I don't know how long I'll be."
"I'll wait," he replied.
She dipped her head in appreciation and stepped out of the car, slipping into her coat and peering up at the building. The early morning wind gave her a chill, and she pulled her long coat around her tighter, pulling her wavy hair out from under the confines of the soft coat. Her mouth felt dry, and she realized a small part of her wanted Lindsey with her. She shook her head, telling herself she needed to find out by herself. Stevie needed to confirm her suspicions, but deep down she knew. Her intuition had never failed her in all her years.