Kind Of Woman (Mirage Era: Part 1)

I Promised Myself A Long Time Ago

Chateau d'Herouville
"The Honkey Chateau"
Herouville, France
Tuesday, November 11, 1981
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"Meet me down by the railway station...I've been waiting...I'm through waiting for you...The train sings the same kind of blues..."

Stevie sat cross-legged in an enormous green velvet chair in the second living room of the house which Lindsey and Richard Dashut had worked to transform into a recording room. A microphone hung above her, and she held several pieces of paper in her hand, some white with type-written lyrics on them and some yellow legal paper with her own handwriting in blue ink, various half-finished doodles of angels' faces and stars on them. She was singing without music accompanying her, just testing out the lyrics to a song she had pulled from her old notes and journals and packed for the trip, and Lindsey sat across from her in the other green velvet chair that flanked the fireplace, listening to her happily belting out a song and thinking there were two Stevies - the one who never let anyone down, always came prepared, and was quick with a lyric and a joke and a smile...and the one he had seen last night, the little girl who'd sat quaking in terror and had asked him to hold her so the bad dreams would go away. The first Stevie was singing now, dressed in Sergio Valenti jeans that looked like they were spray-painted on and a burgundy velour sweater with a deep v-neck that showcased the three or four gold dangling necklaces that sparkled in the light from the fireplace. Sometimes, he had to admit, he forgot that it was 1981 - almost 1982! - and that so much time had elapsed since he had sat facing her in a studio in L.A. and heard her sing into a microphone, her journal open in her hand, "Races are run, some people win, some people always have to lose..." Lindsey had just turned thirty-two last month with a small cake shared by everyone in the house, minus Stevie, who was singing "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" somewhere in California with Waddy filling in for her precious Tom Petty, putting off coming to France until she absolutely had to. Steve was thirty-three years old now, and although this new Stevie, the one with the big hair and the entourage and the rings on every finger was sitting in front of him singing a song, he knew that somewhere in there was the girl who he'd taken to Hamburger Haven in San Francisco after she'd spent all her money shopping at The Velvet Underground the night before Thanksgiving 1969, the one he'd been too timid to kiss good night.

"Well, I don't know why I always trusted," Stevie continued. "Sometimes I think that I must have
I must have been crazy...crazy to wait on you, baby..."

Stevie reached the end of the song and looked around at everyone who sat around the room, familiar faces all - Lindsey, Mick, Christine, John, Ken and Richard - and they were all smiling and clapping. She smiled that slightly embarrassed smile she had, Lindsey noted, the one where she didn't actually show any teeth but you knew she was pleased with herself and kind of ashamed to show it. He couldn't believe the amount of makeup she was wearing...but she looked incredible.

"Alright, Stevie!" Mick said, rising to his feet and clapping. "Who are you meeting at the railway station, I wonder..."

"Haha that's for me to know and you to find out!" she said, switching to her guilty smile now. "But seriously...that's a yes?"

"It's excellent," Lindsey said. "Let me fuck around with some chords and I'll let you know what I think...but absolutely yes." His eyes met hers across the room and she kept his gaze for a moment before staring down at her lap. Even through her makeup he could tell she was blushing.

Stevie sprang to her feet and held the empty glass in her hand that used to be filled with wine and said. "I'm going for a refill. Who's with me?"

"I'll go with you," said Lindsey, rising from his reclining position in his chair. "I want to get a bag of chips or something." Lindsey was visibly homesick for American snacks, rationing out the bags of Lays potato chips he'd had Carol Ann pack for him when she'd come to be with him in October. He followed Stevie into the kitchen and pretended he didn't see Christine look between Mick and John like a tennis match observer for their reactions.