The Dance (Original Series Part 2)

Can I Handle The Seasons Of My Life

"I have a really stupid question for you and I don't want you to judge me for it."

Stevie sat across the table from Christine at The Lobster on the Santa Monica Pier and chewed nervously on the straw she had asked for to drink her water while they waited for their dinner to arrive. This meal was on Christine, or at least she'd said so over the phone when they made the plan a few days ago, because Stevie's birthday was next Monday and Christine wanted to be sure to celebrate with her alone, no boys allowed. It was a Thursday night, and Stevie felt a mixture of guilty and proud that as she sat at the restaurant with Christine, Lindsey was in her living room, taping the NBC Must-See-TV sitcoms for her as he'd promised, with a loving warning that she'd better be home in time to lie in bed with him and watch ER. They had developed their own version of a drinking game - a kissing game - every time Dr. Benton looked angry, they kissed.

"I promise not to judge," Christine said, leaning in closer over the table across the basket of rolls. "Shoot."

"Okay, well...I'm going to be forty-nine next week...and it's not like I haven't experienced any menopause symptoms...I mean, I've had a few hot flashes, things have gotten a bit irregular...you know..." Stevie lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "I know you've been at this longer than I have, so...How do you handle sex during all of this? Do you need to protect yourself or is it all pretty much too old in there?"

"Oh Jesus, Stevie." Christine looked down at her empty bread plate, knowing where this conversation was going. "Listen, I'll tell you what I told Eddy about ten years ago...be careful. You never know."

"Gotcha." Stevie took a long sip of her water through her straw, wishing their margaritas would arrive already.

"Tell Lindsey what I told you," Christine said, and she rolled her eyes at Stevie's attempt at looking shocked. "I mean it, kid. It would fuck up the whole tour."

"How did you know?" Stevie was a champion at hiding things and telling her story in code, but there were three people on earth from which she could ever hide a thing - Barbara Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie.

"Well, if your constant look-how-well-we're-hiding-this looks hadn't already told me, I was on my way to call my husband from my dressing room a few weeks ago when I couldn't help but overhear someone being called a 'dirty girl' from inside theirs."

Stevie looked down, knowing her cheeks were scarlet. "Yeah, he muffled me with a hand but I guess he didn't think to muffle himself," she said, thinking back on the "break" they'd shared in between an interview and a rehearsal. "Listen, Chris, I asked you what I asked you because you are absolutely right - it would fuck up the whole tour! Plus, like, my whole life!" Stevie had been clear about not having children for as long as Christine had known her, and she'd had to make sure of her decision very suddenly several times before, most notably in 1979, when she'd confessed to Christine that Don Henley's baby couldn't exist because she'd have to give up Fleetwood Mac and she wasn't willing to do that. Of course, that had been fine with Don, who'd been very clear about staying out of it. Jacksss, she thought. Almost twenty years later, that still stung.

"Well look, that whole thing aside, don't let your...situation...fuck up your life either," Christine warned her. "I think we are all too old to be chasing each other away from hotel rooms and shouting obscenities at each other in my living room right before a big tour." Stevie knew she was referring to both the Rumors sessions and the violent fiasco that had been Lindsey's quitting right before the Tango In The Night tour in 1987. "I thought he had some young little thing...Kristy?"

"Kristen," Stevie corrected her, hating even saying the name out loud. "They went out a few times before we all agreed to The Dance, but it didn't take."