Crystal Visions Part 1: The Reunion

Just An Invitation

Brentwood, California
Sunday, May 19, 2007
(6:30 am)
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Woke up early to swim. Be back by 9-ish. I'll bring bagels and Starbucks if you text me yes by 8:00.
Love, Me

The blonde woman in cotton pajama shorts and a Soundgarden t-shirt was sound asleep in the darkened bedroom as Lindsey left the note on his pillow and quietly grabbed his keys, wallet and Blackberry from the seashell bowl on top of his dresser where he had been trained to keep his things so he didn't have to go looking for them. Dressed in cargo shorts and his own band t-shirt, the image of the Led Zeppelin House Of The Holy album across his stomach, he tightened the Velcro on his sandals and grabbed his gym bag from the closet as quietly as he could, attempting to avoid the wrath he'd suffer if he woke his sleeping wife before the kids were up for the day. The tiniest drop of sunlight peeked in from the tan drapes that were billowing in the wind of the spring morning, and it highlighted, in one thin stream, his wife's face.

She looked so much more peaceful asleep, Lindsey thought as he looked down at Kristen's face. She was thirty-seven years old - God, he'd kill to be thirty-seven again - and she really didn't look it. Sometimes, of course, after a long day with the kids and interior design clients and whatever the hell else she did to fill her days now that Will and LeeLee were in school and Stella was with the nanny, he had begun to notice just the slightest bit of a haggard look on her face, one that he would never be so unkind as to mention. But it aged her. It was a shame, especially when he'd fought so damn hard ten years ago to grow accustomed to her face, to just accept what was in front of him and try every tactic he knew to forget the face he always saw in his mind wherever he was - in the shower, in the studio, out to dinner with random other married couples from town whose kids went to school with his, in bed in the middle of the night with Kristen's face inches from his own.

The face he saw was a happy one, because it was looking back at his. It was framed by silky blonde hair with bangs that hung over a pair of the most soulful, deep, shining brown eyes he had ever seen, a little button nose that was crinkled a bit because it was starting to laugh, a gleaming white smile taking over her whole face as she began to unleash that little giggle, probably over something incredibly silly that they'd both forget tomorrow...but he knew he'd never be able to forget that beautiful face, let alone the sound of her laughter as she dropped a soft, tiny, perfectly-manicured hand to his arm and said something like, "Thanks a lot, Linds! Now I've got the giggles and I have to start singing!"

He was not going to think about her today. Not her face, not her laugh, not her hair, not her hand in his on a cold November night almost thirty years ago that made him just about forget how to walk as they strolled along Golden Gate Park, not how tiny she looked on a king-sized mattress on the floor in her pajamas on and a little dog in her lap, not the tiny, frustrated whines she made in bed when she couldn't get to sleep, not how his heart did jumping jacks when she finally gave up tossing and turning and settled into his arms and let her head come to rest on his chest. And he was definitely not going to think about how she looked when she was sleeping, the way the sunlight that peeked in from the windows on a morning like this one seemed to illuminate her from the inside out and outside in all at once and might as well be coming from a halo instead of the sun.

Today was not one of those days. He was not going to think about Stevie one bit. He was going to swim at the club, bring coffee and bagels home to his wife and watch his kids eat bowls of Cheerios on the couch in the den in front of Spongebob Squarepants. He'd talk to his wife in the kitchen about how the songs for Gift Of Screws were coming along, maybe call his brother Jeff and see how he was doing, do the same with John McVie. He'd have dinner and watch the Discovery Channel and learn new information about sharks - pretty much all they aired nowadays - and mess around in the studio before bed.