No One's A Fool (Revised & Complete)

Chapter 7

"Hi Joe." She greeted him, her voice polite.

"Hey Stevie." He breathed.

"Come in." She said, turning away from the door. He could feel the tension as he followed her into the suite, where he immediately saw Lori Nicks sitting in a chair by the window. He almost laughed as he realized how little had changed in the past 30 years. Stevie never traveled alone, and more often than not she had a pack of women surrounding her. But back then, when Joe began to raise hell, and the rooms started to clear out, it was always Lori was stayed for backup. Joe used to call her "The Bulldog" – the one who was fiercely protective of Stevie, even more so after Stevie became pregnant. She was one of the only people in Stevie's inner circle to stand up to Joe, telling him exactly what she thought of him, trying to protect her sister-in-law and best friend at all costs.

And now, here she was again, thirty years older, but still looking much the same. Her curly hair was now straight, but it still held it auburn color. She'd aged some – a few more wrinkles, a few more pounds – but her face was the same, and she still sat with her arms crossed, lips pursed, her eyes set on Joe.

"I'm not leaving." She stated, as is daring him to ask her.

"That's fine." He shrugged, and she finally broke her gaze.

"I know why you're here." Stevie said, sitting down across from Lori. "Wrenna told me she'd met you." Joe sat as well, a few feet away from them. "She told me you gave her tickets to the concert last night, and that she went." Stevie continued.

"I didn't tell her anything."

"I know that." Stevie nodded. "But you had her play guitar for you. You met her husband. You saw photos of her baby." Stevie's heart has risen up into her throat when Wrenna called to tell her she had met Eagles guitarist Joe Walsh. Stevie could tell Wrenna suspected nothing, as she filled Stevie in on how sweet the man had been to her, and how nice it was of him to offer her those tickets – third row center.

"And it's perfecting timing, because Wednesday is the only night of the week I don't have to be at the convention!" Wrenna had told her. "Mom, how cool is that?"

"It's pretty cool, Wrenna." Stevie had said, desperately trying to sound casual, unsure if it was working. While she was talking to Wrenna, she was frantically mouthing "OH MY GOD!" to Lori, who sat anticipatorily, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. When they hung up, Stevie told Lori everything, and it was Lori who guessed that Joe would come find her. She had even looked up his show dates online to see where in the US he was in relation to Washington, where Fleetwood Mac was set to do their next show. When the front desk clerk called the room to announce he was there, Stevie looked at Lori and said, "You knew it from the get-go."

"And then you tracked me down between your own shows – on the opposite side of the country, mind you – and you flew here to see me." Stevie continued, never taking her eyes off Joe. "So why exactly are you here?"

"I don't know." He said, plainly.

"You don't know why you flew three thousand miles to talk to me after thirty fucking years of silence?" She pressed. "Joe, that's just not good enough. Why didn't you just tell Wrenna who you really were?"

"She told me Mick is her father."

"He is." Stevie nodded. "But she knows she's not his biologically. She's not stupid. They look nothing alike."

"What does she know?"

"She knows the truth." At this, he winced, imagining what exactly "the truth" looked like to a little girl. "I didn't tell her your name. Initially, I told her I'd give her your name when she was ready. But she's truly never wanted to know. I've asked her many times, and every time she says, 'Mom, Mick is my dad,' So – is that why you're here? You want to tell her now?"