Stand Back (Mirage Era: Part 3)

Just An Invitation

Santa Monica, California
Friday, January 7, 1983
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Christine McVie had been playing in a band in one way or another since she was fourteen years old, and she had grown quite used to being around men and their problems.

Dealing with Stevie Nicks and hers had never been easy.

Christine sat at Stevie's favorite seafood restaurant in Santa Monica, The Lobster, located on the famous pier. She had been there for exactly half a martini when she looked up at the minor commotion in the front of the restaurant near the hostess station, and she saw a tiny woman with tons of blonde permed hair and huge black velvet boots and tinted aviator glasses trying like hell to push a navy blue pram into the front door with help from a few bystanders, two of which realized she was Stevie Nicks. Her long, dramatic black scarf was swinging almost into the baby's face inside his pram, she had a big black purse on one shoulder and a diaper bag with dragons on it over the other, and Christine stood up and waved to her as she pushed the baby along towards the table near the back of the restaurant.

"I just got him to sleep, so please, Chris, no dramatic talk," Stevie said as her greeting as she hugged and kissed her before sitting down in her side of the booth. She didn't really sit as much as she landed, really, and Christine noticed right away how exhausted she looked. She pushed her glasses up like a headband and immediately opened the menu, announcing, "I need a fucking drink!"

"I'd say so," Christine said. Stevie very quickly ordered a gin and tonic from a waiter and fussed a bit with the sleeping baby boy beside the table as Christine said, "How's he doing?"

"Growing like a little piggy and kind of sleeping though the night," Stevie said. "He woke me up at six this morning though...Did you know that at six in the morning the only thing on TV to watch are reruns of American Bandstand from 1965? I learned that this morning!" She let out a strange sound that was a sigh and a chuckle at once, shaking her head.

"Waking up at six is not my forte," Christine said. "Now still being up at six...that's my speed." Stevie laughed, which made her laugh.

"I remember those days," Stevie said a little more wistfully than she'd intended. "Those were good times...shitty times too, but good times."

They ordered lunch - lobster roll and fries for each of them - and another round of drinks. Stevie rested her elbows on the table despite Barbara always telling her as a child that it was not polite, and she dropped her jaw into her hands and stared at Christine like she was water in the desert. "Christine...I am so fucking tired I think they need to amplify that word and create a newer, more improved version of it...tired isn't even it."

"Well Jesus, hon, you're taking care of an infant and making the album and apparently planning a wedding." She'd received her invitation in the mail yesterday among a few very belated Christmas cards, and she wondered why things with Stevie and Kim were moving so fast.

"You're coming to my wedding, aren't you?" Stevie looked hopeful but anxious. "Mick said yes to me on the phone, John...well, he's off sailing or some shit and I'm waiting to hear back...I'll talk to Julie if he doesn't return my call...but you're coming, right?"

"I'll be there." Christine took a sip of her martini and them stared at the table as if it held the mysteries of the universe.

"What?" Stevie said after awhile, slowly removing her head from her hands and curling herself upwards in her seat.

"Nothing. I said nothing." Christine sipped her drink again in a way that told Stevie that "nothing" was Upset British Woman language for "everything."

"Don't patronize me, Christine...who are you now, Lindsey? I'm a big girl."