Fall From Grace: The Dance Thriller, Part 2

Not All The King's Horses, Not All The King's Men...

New York, New York
Thanksgiving Day
Thursday, November 27, 1997
(9:00 am)
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"Who ever heard of a rock and roll concert on Thanksgiving? Marty is out of his fucking mind!"

Stevie was standing at the mirror in the bathroom of their suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan, brushing tangles out of her hair upside down...or as far as she could bend upside down over the baby. She was seven months pregnant as of three days ago, and Baby Robin weighed in at just over four pounds already, according to the doctor. Lindsey was pacing by the front door of their suite, anxiously awaiting room service breakfast. He'd filled out the courtesy card last night and hung it on the door, wanting to surprise Stevie with blueberry pancakes on Thanksgiving morning.

They were not out of the woods yet and he knew it, both in their relationship and where Kristen's threatening behavior were concerned. They had spent much of the day in bed on October 12, the day they'd originally been scheduled to perform in Vancouver, British Columbia, alternating between crying and shouting and holding each other and kissing away tears over the situation. Stevie, he knew, was most angry about the dishonesty; she was upset because he had lived with this problem for months and said nothing, and she felt as though he thought she couldn't be trusted with that level of upsetting information. She had accused him of treating her with kid gloves ever since she'd become addicted to klonopin in 1988, even more so after she'd returned from rehab for her addiction in 1994, and he'd accused her of putting up a wall such that he never knew which Stevie he would get when bad news had to be delivered - the strong independent Stevie Nicks who did everything her own way, or small, frightened Stephanie, who begged him to hold her when things turned dark.

Nevertheless, they had been talking it through, and they were proud of themselves and the maturty they were showing in middle age. Stevie joked that it was easy to be mature without a tiny golden spoon up her nose, Lindsey had joked back that maturity came easy without having Carol Ann Harris at home whining about everything, and they had fallen onto the bed laughing, rolling around like two kittens at play, and it was then that for the first time since Lindsey's confession that they had truly kissed - kissed deeply, slowly, tenderly, almost sealing with the kiss the fact that no matter what had happened, who had been dishonest and withholding and who had made them feel they had to be that way, they were working it out. In many ways, they had never loved each other more.

But there was still the matter of Kristen Messner to attend to. Her latest letter had been delivered directly to Marty Hom, which had prompted an outpouring of shouts and curses and tears and general Fleetwood Mac personalities before Marty had ushered them all out of his room, telling them he was "getting a fucking headache and had to call the private security team ahead of the rest of the shows." Stevie had consented to the plan that she not be left alone at any concert venue, or at any of the hotels they stayed at during the remainder of the tour. At the airports, Fleetwood Mac enjoyed the lounge that came with Execujet, and there was natural safety in numbers there. Their final show was to be on November 30 in Andover, Maryland, and after that, they'd deal with things as they came when they returned to Southern California, where Stevie and Lindsey were going to continue to look for a new house together and plan for the birth of Baby Robin, and then go through with the wedding after Fleetwood Mac was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame in the new year...and she was "thin enough to fit a wedding dress again, for Pete sake!"

"Well we did get to have Thanksgiving dinner early last night, angel, so technically we've lost nothing."

Last night, at one of the restaurants at the Plaza, Stevie and Lindsey had hosted a dinner for Fleetwood Mac - Mick and Lynn, John and Julie and little Molly who was four years old now, Christine and Eddy. They had ordered champagne and Lindsey's favorite Lefitt Rothschild 1960 to pair with the traditional Thanksgiving feast of turkey with all the trimmings, and Lindsey had stood up midway through the meal and made a toast.