Bluebird

17

December 25, 2011

Annabel emerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of white ripped jeans, and a grey and white striped crew neck sweater. In the white stripes there were little gingerbread. In the grey stripes it alternated between snow flakes and candy canes. She and Lindsey weren't doing anything for Christmas, because they had done Christmas the week before, but they were going to hang out and watch Christmas movies all day. Lindsey over the course of his sixty-one years had learned how to make prime rib so he was cooking that. Annabel would be making Mac and Cheese and corn because they didn't feel like Mashed Potatoes and they were just going to be having a little celebration together. 

"Morning Sweetheart." Lindsey hands her a cup of coffee and she greedily takes it and makes herself comfortable on the couch. Bowie immediately jumping up to lay his head on her lap. 

"Morning daddy." She smiles scratching Bowie's back with her free hand.

"That is some Christmas sweater." He points out.

"Daddy, you're wearing reindeer pooping." She points to his blue sweater with white reindeer literally pooping on it. 

"But it's simple.  Yours is all over the place." Lindsey points her up and down. 

"What movie do we start with?" She asks flipping through the TV Stations. 

"Whatever is on television."Lindsey smirks.

"So Frosty then..." She trails off.

"I guess so." Lindsey chuckles as Annabel clicks the button.

***

They had made it through dinner and Annabel was laying crookedly on the couch. Her head was dangling slighty off the side. One leg was thrown over Lindsey's lap. The other was bent at the knee on the cushion. She had one hand on her stomach and one hand on Prince's head lightly rubbing it. 

"Dad." 

"Hmm?" Lindsey asks. He wasn't sitting any better. He had dad spread. He was slumped down, both his legs splayed out wide. He was drinking a beer and he looked so much like the stereotypical dad it was stupid. 

"What do you think Stevie is doing right now?" 

"Well, one of three things." 

"Oh?" 

"She's either in Phoenix with her mom and several of her close friends. Vanessa Carlton, Sharon Celani, Glen Parrish, her niece, brother, and sister in law and probably a million other people. Or she's with those same people, here in Santa Monica. Hosting Nicksmas. It's just a giant Christmas party and she spends like 5,000 dollars on gifts and stupid shit. Or she flew her mom, brother, sister-in-law, and niece out to Hawaii...She owns a house a Maui, much like I did." Lindsey explains.

"I think she's here." 

"In Santa Monica?" 

"Yeah...I saw Barbara at Target when I got the Christmas Decorations." 

"How come you didn't tell me?" Lindsey asks.

"Well, I guess I was in shock really. I never had grandparents from the Bekker's. And I saw her and I mean she looks like an older Stevie Nicks...hell an older me." 

"Yeah those genes are strong. Did she talk to you?" 

"I literally ran into her cart because I was crossing something off on my list and I wasn't watching where I was going. She wished me merry Christmas. Asked if I was Christmas shopping, and then she said I looked familiar and asked if we knew each other. I said no, I had just moved and then that was it. That was the last of our conversation." Annabel shrugs. 

"Well, I'll tell you what. When Barbara and Jess got to the hospital on November 16th, the day after you were born and they asked where you were. Stevie couldn't tell them so I did it and I thought your mom was affected. It affected her just as much. Stevie was still under observation so she was at the hospital for postpartum recovery, especially after her episiotomy.  But she didn't have the baby to show for it and it killed her. When you're a parent seeing your child in pain is the worst feeling ever and Barbara had a hard time trying to be strong for Stevie when all she really wanted to do was cry herself." Lindsey shrugs.

'Who all knows?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Who all knows about me? And I mean not just by default like Kristen, the girls William,.."

"Well, we told my mom. My dad had already died, but we told my mom. My brothers and their wives and children. Barb and Jess. Chris and Lori. Jessica wasn't alive yet so I don't know if she knows or not. Sharon Celani knows. Mick Fleetwood, John McVie, Christine McVie. Ken Calliet, Richard Dashut...Glen Parrish...I think that's it. We didn't tell a lot of people. Just the ones who needed to know and that just so happened to be Fleetwood Mac, because we were recording Tango, our crew, and our families." Lindsey shrugs.

"Why, why did you only tell them. Why didn't you tell the world?" 

"Your mom didn't want to. She wanted to protect you from every and anything. As famous as we were, there was always a risk of crazy stalker fans. Your mother was getting some sketchy fan mail so she wanted to keep you protected. Paparazzi is a thing. They don't really follow us anymore, but when we were at the height of our career you bet your ass there was always someone trying to snap a picture of us. She was scared that if the world found out about you, you'd never have a normal life." Lindsey shrugs.

"I just don't understand how someone who seems to care that much about me, would get me addicted to cocaine, and then subsequently get me taken away from her. It just doesn't make sense." 

"Like I told you, What we know about cocaine now, wasn't known then. We knew that it could have some affect on a baby, because whatever mom consumes baby consumes. But no one knew the amount of damage it could cause a fetus. Same with alcohol and smoking. It's just what you did. She tried, she tried to cut back but she was so dependent on it that if she didn't at least have one hit a day she'd get so sick." Lindsey explains.

"I kind of feel sorry for her." Annabel shrugs.

"I do to...she would've been a great mother." He rubs her leg.

"Do you think maybe we could go see her on tour again?" 

"I can try...do you know her tour schedule?" Lindsey asks.

"I can look it up." 

"Okay," he nods patting her leg.

"Dad," 

'Hmm..." 

"Thank you. For taking me in, and taking care of me." 

"Of course, you're my daughter. I'm more than happy to have you with me. Especially after not having you for so long." He smiles. 

She returns the smile and then she shifts so she was snuggling up with him on the couch, not in a dirty way, but as a father daughter way. There, she would eventually fall asleep against his shoulder.