Weeks go by, and she refuses to speak to him. Most of the press has blown over, but Stevie's ability to hold a grudge is unmatched. He gave up trying to speak to her after having a dozen or so doors slammed in his face. He wrote an apology letter. He sat outside her dressing room for three nights, then gave up.
It physically hurt to be onstage with her every night, to look at her and have her at arm's length and know that she wouldn't even look at him. They'd been through this before. Deep down, he didn't really think she was that angry at him. She was more embarrassed and scared than anything, but right now there wasn't much he could do about it.
It's snowing in... whatever city they're in. He lost track. They have a day off, and he's sitting in his suite. On a normal night he'd be playing or recording or something, but he can't bring himself to pull the guitar out of the case. The bottle of bourbon is about half gone, and it occurs to him that he should probably eat something. Instead, he turns on the gas-powered fire place, refills his glass, and stares out the window. He stopped waiting for her to show up a while ago. Sitting there hoping she'd knock on the door was about to drive him insane.
The incident had gone relatively unacknowledged among the band members, though he noticed that Stevie and Christine had been spending a lot more time together. Chris changed the whole dynamic of the band when she was around. The mother hen was back, and her girl needed her. It was actually nice to watch. Stevie adored her.
The kiss had been impulsive and stupid, sure, but it was relatively chaste. He was trying to be playful, but he'd failed. Her flair for the dramatic was strong, and he'd been on the receiving end enough times to know when not to push her. He should have known better.
He hadn't seen anyone since they'd gotten off the plane that morning, and he was actually kind of grateful. Touring was a lot harder these days. His introverted side was completely exhausted by them anymore, which wasn't helping his situation with Stevie. This was where she felt most at home. He couldn't wait to be back in Los Angeles.
Finally, there was a soft knock at the door. If the room hadn't been completely silent he wouldn't have heard it. Looking through the viewer, he saw Stevie, Karen and Sulamith in tow. He opened the door, and stared, not sure how he should greet her.
"Are you going to invite me in?"
"Sure, of course. Come in."
She waves at Karen and dismisses her, setting Sulamith down on the floor as he shuts the door. "I know it's sort of late for you on a non-show night..."
"It's okay. I'm awake," he says, trying to figure out what sort of mood she's in. "Here, let me take your coat," he says, helping her out of her long, heavy fur and hanging it up for her.
"You're not going back to her, are you?"
"No," he says simply, offering no other explanation. She stares at him for a minute, either trying to screw up her courage or figure out what the say next. He's not sure.
"Why not?"
"I don't love her the way I should. She deserves better than that, even if I did manage to get her to forgive me."
"I need to know that you didn't leave her to be with me."
"I spent our entire marriage in love with you, Stevie. Even when I tried not to be. But whether I'm with you or not, I can't love her. I can't fake my way through that life any more."
"I will never understand why you love me so much," she says, walking into his arms, burying her face in his chest.
"Sometimes I'm not so sure, either. It hurts like hell," he says, and she looks up at him, surprised. "But then you sing or laugh or twirl across a stage or hold my hand or do pretty much anything, and it's pretty easy to remember why."
"I do love you, Lindsey."
"I know that."
"I know that I'm making this hard."
"You are."
"Let's sit down..."
"Can I get you a drink? Wine? A joint?"
She laughs a little and shakes her head. "I'm okay right now."
"I'm sorry I kissed you onstage. I know better," he says, sitting beside her on the couch.
"I was pretty upset."
"I noticed."
"On a normal night I might have been embarrassed but laughed it off. But with everything that had just happened..."
"I know. I get it. I knew it as soon as I saw your face. I was trying to play the game. Plus, I wanted to kiss you," he says, nudging her with his shoulder. She laughs a little, shaking her head.
"You know how I feel about kissing anyone in public under normal circumstances. I just..."
"I know, Stevie. I've had three weeks to flog myself. I'm sorry."
"Okay." She slips her fingers between his, resting their hands on his knee. "It isn't that I don't want to be with you, you know."
"Then what is it? Because I've spent almost a month trying to figure out what you're thinking and I can't make sense of it."
She doesn't answer, but he waits, watching her work through whatever she's about to say in her head. "Do you think we would have gotten married if we hadn't joined the band?"
"You know that I do."
"Would we have lasted?"
"I'd like to think so."
"Have we changed that much? From who we were 40 years ago?"
"I guess life has a way of shaping and conditioning us in certain areas... and we've most certainly been conditioned in a lot of ways... but, uh, yeah. We always wanted what we wanted, and we always loved what we loved."
She pauses again, this time focusing on him. "Lindsey, I cannot survive another breakup with you."
"Then I guess we'll just have to not break up."
"I'm serious. I'm scared to death of losing you again."
"So you go AWOL on me for three weeks?"
"You still saw me. And you knew I'd be back. If we tried this and failed again..."
"Will you stop it? I'm so sick of your negative bullshit. We're old. We still love each other. You spent most of the 90's telling people we'd end up together in nursing homes. You know we're worth it."
"I need time, okay?"
He rolls his eyes, but stops himself before he yells at her again. She doesn't need more time. But he'll play along for now. "Do what you have to."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"I missed you," he says, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. She cuddles up to him and stares at the fire, smiling to herself.
"I missed you, too."
