October 10, 2004
It was only when Sheryl fumbled back to bed in the darkness she realized she was alone. She checked the clock on her bedside table, holding it up to the shaft of moonlight cutting through the shadows of their bedroom to see the time properly. Past 4. Even by Stevie's standards, this was a late night. She grabbed her robe from the back of her chair and pulled it on before slowly shuffling to the door, rubbing her lower back in a futile attempt to ease the endless throbbing pain.
The light from the nursery illuminated the hall, and she smiled as she headed towards it. Stevie, usually so particular about style and interior design, had given her free reign when it came to decorating the nursery. When she came back from tour, it was all done. Sheryl was excited and anxious to see her response in equal measure, but nothing could have prepared her for the tears of happiness, let alone the fact Stevie now spent every possible moment in there.
At first glance, the decor was neutral; a white plush carpet and oatmeal walls with tiny clouds sponged onto them. It was only under closer inspection that all the tiny details became clear, like the cot mobile made of tambourine cymbals, or the fact the clouds were actually musical notes making phrases from both of their songs.
But Stevie's favorite feature was the rocking chair. It had belonged to her grandfather. Her earliest memories involved him rocking her in it, teaching her country songs. It had made its way to her parents house, where it had spent decades gathering dust in the garage. When Sheryl called to ask if they had anything they could contribute to personalize the nursery, Barbara suggested it right away. They'd brought it over and stayed with her for a few days, Jess and Sheryl in the yard fixing up the chair as Barbara knitted endless jackets and blankets for the baby.
One of these blankets was draped over the chair now as Stevie sat in it, gazing at a tiny pair of white baby boots - another of Barbara's knits - in her lap.
"Hey."
She gasped as she looked up and saw Sheryl in the doorway.
"Oh no - did I wake you?"
"Not at all, I just got up for my 5th pee of the night - ooh, ouch -"
"What is it?" She jumped out of the chair and ran to her, guiding her back to take a seat.
"It's fine, the baby's just stretching. Definitely your child. Sleeps all day, keeps me awake all night."
"I don't usually hear you complaining when I keep you awake all night."
"It's usually more pleasant, I will admit. Ah, that's good..." Stevie had knelt in front of her, propped her feet in her lap, and was now rubbing them. Sheryl picked up the boots from where Stevie had abandoned them on the dresser. "Can you handle these? Seriously."
Stevie's nose wrinkled as she smiled.
"I know. She's so excited. She keeps asking how soon after the baby comes she can visit. The way she's talking she's about to set up here as a live in nanny."
"I've got no objections to that. Besides, it's something we need to talk about -"
"No it isn't. I've told you - kicking?" Sheryl had put her hand on the bump and was smiling. The novelty never wore off. She nodded and took Stevie's hand, placing it under hers. They sat in silence for a few seconds before they felt a firm pressure. Stevie giggled and leant forward to kiss that same spot. "Go to sleep. Mommy needs rest."
"What were you saying?"
Stevie looked confused for a second before sitting back on her haunches.
"Oh, yes. We don't need a nanny. I'll be here."
"Stevie...ok look, I love you and support you and I'm saying this with all the love and support in my heart. You change your mind about stuff all the time -"
"I don't."
"You do."
"I do not, Sheryl Crow!"
"How many times have you changed your mind about what baby names you like best?"
"That's different, we're responsible for this person's name their whole life, we've got to get it right."
"I'm just saying it won't hurt to have a back up plan, ok? In case you do decide you want to go back into the studio, or on tour, or whatever. Is that a compromise?"
Stevie shrugged. They sat in silence for a moment before Sheryl slid out of the chair and onto the floor to sit facing Stevie.
"Hi."
"Hi. So why were you awake and in here? Wanna talk?"
Stevie tucked her knees up to her chin and glanced at Sheryl from under her bangs. She looked so child-like.
"I'm ok."
"Your body language is betraying you. Is it the baby coming soon?"
She shook her head.
"The trial? It's the trial being next week, right?"
"I'm so scared."
"Of seeing him?"
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
"I thought it would be ok, but then after what happened last month in Detroit - what if it happens again? In front of all those people?"
Sheryl shifted to sit next to her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.
"It won't. Because you'll be ready. And you'll have all those people there to help you. And if it does happen again...I defy anyone to not want to scream and cry if they're faced with someone who did what he did to you." Stevie sobbed quietly. "You know what? Fuck it. I'm coming with you."
Stevie jerked her head up suddenly, wiping her eyes on her hands.
"No. No way."
"I want to be there. None of this would have happened if -"
"If I hadn't slept with Lindsey and ruined things with us. And if he hadn't been a total prick with you and pushed you back to me. And if he hadn't turned out to be a psycho which is entirely his problem. I won't have you blaming yourself for any of it, ok? And I don't want you anywhere near that courthouse, especially not literally on the baby's due date. Just let me fix it and see him put away."
"Ok." She smiled at Stevie's renewed determination. "We're so proud of you, mama."
"I'm proud of you both, too. Let's go to bed."
She got to her feet before heaving Sheryl to hers.
"Oh, by the way."
"Hmm?"
"It's the 10th. Happy anniversary, baby."
