Time Makes You Bolder (Sequel to No One's A Fool)

Chapter 4

"Stevie, you have got to get the fuck out of this bed! I'm so serious!" Lori said, ripping open the window shades. Mary had tried hours earlier, to rouse her, and unsuccessfully. Margi had been ignored when she knocked on the door. But Lori didn't take any shit, and all the girls knew that about her. When Stevie only blinked, Lori walked to the other window and opened the blinds there too. Slowly, Stevie sat up.

"You're not Ozzy Osbourne, you cannot live like a bat. You've got to turn on a damn light and tell me what the hell is going on! You've been in this bed all day!" Lori sat down on the bed, reaching for the plate she had set on the nightstand. "Welcome to the land of the living. We've got toast." She handed the plate to Stevie, who took it and bit into one of the pieces.

"Tom called me. He's wondering if you're still alive. And Joe didn't call, which means I can guess what this is about."

"You don't even know the half of it." Stevie breathed, before biting into the toast again.

"Oh, you mean that you're pregnant?" She asked. Stevie dropped the plate, looking at Lori with wide eyes.

"How-" She stopped.

"How do I know that?" Lori finished. "I can see it all over you. You haven't drank or smoked weed in weeks. You look like you want to throw up every time someone even mentions meat. Not to mention there's a half empty box of tests under your sink. You're acting weird. Something is going on, and I think I know what it is." Stevie sighed, and rubbed her face, to which Lori gasped. "You are, aren't you?" Stevie looked at her solemnly, nodding, and Lori subdued her reaction.

"Okay. And you've told Joe?"

"Yeah, a few days ago."

"What did he say?"

"He was happy. But then two nights ago I found him snorting lines downstairs. Last night I went over for him to apologize, and he ended up drinking and doing coke again with guys from his band."

"I thought he was getting clean?" Lori said, the surprise evident in her voice.

"I did too. Lori, I can't be around that shit. Not before, and definitely not now."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I want to try to talk to him again, when he sobers up. But he's being a stubborn ass."

"And you're going to keep the baby?" Lori asked, tentatively.

"I want to." Stevie responded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I'm 38. This is the last chance for me. I'm not a hundred percent sure yet, but I know this is it. If I don't have it, I never will."

"If you want to, I think you should." Lori told her.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not? You're great with kids. If you want to have one, it's no one else's business."

"Fleetwood Mac isn't going to like it."

"Fuck what Fleetwood Mac likes." Lori scoffed. "They don't get to decide whether you have a baby."

"They have before." Stevie reminded her. "And we're making this new album. They're going to want to tour."

"This new album has been going on forever, Stevie. God knows when it'll be done. That tour could be a year away. Don't let those guys decide for you. YOU figure it out."