Lindsey watches her struggle through the following days. They knew it could take a while, but he can see that she's going crazy. He also is acutely aware that there's nothing he can do. Every night she sings Seven Wonders and he watches her choke up singing their daughter's name. "Our little wonder," she'd said the day she was born.
The entire night Emmeline was born had been replaying in his mind for weeks. Stevie had been beautiful pregnant, but she wasn't built for it and she had given birth a month early. Her body had a hard time carrying a baby - she was post-rehab and still fragile. Once she had Emmeline in her arms she held on to the baby for as long as they would let her before they took her away, weeping openly. She had said that night she'd made a mistake, and she stood by that statement. She had never wanted to let her go.
Tonight, she's particularly emotional and he already watched her cry through two songs. When Seven Wonders ends he grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze, smiling reassuringly.
"Thank you," she mouths over the roar of the crowd, returning to the mic and giving the audience a gracious bow.
Everyone starts to clear out after the show, but he decides to check on her and swings by her dressing room. The door is cracked, and he pushes it open, announcing himself.
"Hey, it's me."
"Hey," she says, already changed into leggings and a flowy top. She's putting on her coat and sunglasses, meaning it's almost time for her to make her exit. Staff flutters around her, cleaning up her vanity and hanging her stage clothes.
"Can we..." he looks around, signaling that he wants to be alone.
"I've got this, Stevie," says Karen, obviously aware that Lindsey is trying to get her attention. "You can go ahead."
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, Karen," she says, turning back to Lindsey. "Ready?"
He nods, putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her out to the car. Once they're alone, she puts her sunglasses in her purse and fidgets, waiting for him to talk to her.
"I don't have any news," he starts, and her face immediately falls. "I won't make you wait if I hear anything," he promises, smiling at her and giving her hand a squeeze.
"Thank you. My heart can't take this."
"I know it's hard. It could take a while for her to come around, even if they get her the information immediately."
"Or she could decide she doesn't want to talk to us and throw away your phone number."
"Or that," he says, putting his arm around her shoulders. "But don't be so negative."
"What time zone are we in?"
"Eastern, still," he says, checking his phone.
"So it's only 9 where she is."
He smiles at her. "Yes. It's not late there."
"Thank you for sitting with me tonight. I'm going crazy not knowing anything."
"I know. I watched you tonight."
"Is this the right thing? Contacting her?"
"Well, it puts the ball in her court."
"Does she have our names?" He immediately knows what she's asking.
"She does not," he says. "She doesn't know who we are." She looks a little relieved.
"I just want her to call us because she wants to know who we are. Who she is."
"I know what you mean. I made sure to keep that confidential. And I listed you at Stephanie. I figured that was a little less obvious."
"But still not exactly inconspicuous."
"You're not inconspicuous."
They settle into Stevie's suite and open a bottle of wine, talking about the show now, trying to distract themselves. Lindsey's phone rings, buzzing loudly on the glass coffee table.
"It's a San Francisco number."