Fall From Grace: The Dance Thriller, Part 2

It's Not Enough That You Depend On Me

Boston, Massachusetts
Saturday, September 20, 1997
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The letter reached Marty Hom's hotel room after the show on Friday night.

It was typed, Times New Roman twelve-point font on Microsoft Word. Folded in three. No envelope, no fingerprints.

Smart move stepping up security for the gypsy that remains. See you in Uniondale.

Lindsey was walking down the hallway towards the hotel room where Stevie sat in bed waiting for the Pepsi and Cheez-Its he'd promised to bring her, blaming Baby Robin for her craving at midnight. Lindsey was drinking from a can of Coke himself, whistling from the refrain of "Go Your Own Way" as it was on his mind after the show, when a strong hand pulled him backwards, Coke plopping onto the gray carpet from his open can as he stumbled for his footing. He got his bearings just as he reached the inside of Marty's room. Marty closed the door quietly.

"What the fuck, Marty?" Lindsey struggled to balance two soda cans and the bag of Cheez-Its.

"This." Marty held the letter up to Lindsey's face so he could read it. He watched Lindsey's facial expression turn from confusion to horror. "This is not a drill, okay? This is fucking serious! This is where we get the police to step in and we get this woman before something worse happens...you got that?"

"Jesus Christ." Lindsey backed away in horror. "What the hell is wrong with her? We went out on, like, four dates! Slept together twice...no talk of being exclusive, no future plans...she was twenty-seven fucking years old, Marty! She'd never heard 'Stairway To Heaven'!"

Christine emerged from the bathroom. She'd passed by Marty's room shortly before Lindsey, and had been shown the letter. "If I wasn't so worried about Stevie I'd be cracking jokes at your being irresistible to women," she said to Lindsey. "Seriously, we have to take action. This is a police matter now. I don't know if pregnancy is scrambling this woman's brain cells or if she's just lonely or what...but it's beyond us now. She's clearly out to get Stevie...and by definition, your unborn child." She folded her arms across the chest of the Boston Celtics hoodie she'd purchased upon arrival at Logan International Airport the previous day to keep warm in the unexpectedly colder air conditioning.

Lindsey backed himself onto the small white sofa in the room, tossing the contents of his hands onto the coffee table. He dropped his head into his hands, elbows digging into his lap, and began to cry. It was Christine who, despite her anger at him for having kept the secret from Stevie, realized that he was finally cracking under the pressure, and she went over and sat beside him on the sofa and took him into her arms to cry on her shoulder.

"I didn't mean for any of this," he sobbed as Christine rocked him in a maternal hold, her short red fingernails at his back. "I swear to God, Chris, I didn't...I just love her..."

"I know." Christine rubbed his back affectionately, kissed the side of his head. Christine McVie was no stranger to the drama that was the relationship between Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, but as she sat in Marty Hom's hotel room after midnight and consoled Lindsey while his pregnant and vengeful ex-girlfriend plotted against Stevie, Christine vowed that when this tour was over, she was going to break the news to everyone that she was retiring. She was too old for this. She was done.

Lindsey calmed down after a few minutes and disappeared into Marty's bathroom to clean up. He retrieved his items from the coffee table on his way out, and walked down the hallway to the room he was sharing with Stevie. He felt as if he were being followed, but he blamed his anxiety.

"Dude! Did you have to go to the PepsiCo company for it? I was worried about you!" Stevie sprang up from the bed where she'd been sitting up and watching TV with the dog, and took the soda and Cheez-Its from him and set them down before throwing her arms around him. "You were gone so long I started to think something terrible had happened to you!"

The irony, Lindsey thought as he held her. He kissed her and said, "Nope, just got side-tracked talking to Marty. I'm sorry."

"Well, your daughter is starving so say sorry to her," Stevie said. She tore open the bag of Cheez-Its and began shoveling them into her mouth. Lindsey bent down over her now-obvious growing belly and brushed his hand along it.

"Sorry about your Cheez-Its and Pepsi, Baby Robin," he said to Stevie's belly. "You're going to grow up and eat nothing but junk like your mommy, I guess, because you're getting your practice tonight." He kissed her belly as she laughed, chewing her snack food and rubbing down into his hair with her free hand. He was just starting to get a bald spot, she'd noticed a few weeks ago, but she kept it to herself.

"Come to bed so you can stand guard so I don't fall asleep," Stevie commanded on her way back to the bed, chewing her Cheez-Its all the way. "The movie about The Doors is going to be on HBO in five minutes, and I want to see what a ridiculous mockery Val Kilmer makes of Jim Morrison, but I don't trust myself to stay awake."

Lindsey laughed at her plans for the evening. I love this woman. My God...look at her. She's even adorable sharing Cheez-Its with her dog in bed. How the hell am I going to ruin this? How am I going to tell her what's going on?

"One sleep guard coming right up," he said on his way into the bathroom to get ready for bed. "And save me some of those Cheez-Its!"

He closed the bathroom door.

He'd tell her tomorrow.

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