Buckingham Nicks A/U Series Part 2: Dreams

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining

Venice Beach, California
Saturday, April 1, 1978
(8:00 pm)
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"Well we're movin' on up to the East Side...to a deeeeeelux apartment in the sky...Well we're movin' on up to the East Side...we finally got a piece of the pie..."

Stevie was sitting up in bed, Ginny at her side, happily singing along to the theme song of The Jeffersons on TV and eating a piece of chocolate cake when the phone rang. She picked up the phone, cursing whoever was calling her just as an episode of The Jeffersons was starting. "Hello?"

"Hey, Stevie, it's Christine."

"Hey, Chris! What's up?" She said it with a sigh, looking longingly at the TV in the distance.

"Just wanted to check on you, see how you're doing," Christine said. "Two days till the big day!"

"Ugh! This kid can't come out soon enough!" Stevie groaned. "Do you know...I had to have Lindsey help me step into my underwear this morning because I couldn't see down that far?" She heard Christine's burst of laughter. "Seriously! It's getting to be not quite so magical, you know? The thrill is gone."

"Jodie was a week overdue, hon. I remember." Christine's son Jodie was six months old now and looked so much like her brother John that she had nicknamed him Mr. Perfect. "Have you had your last appointment yet? Any action?"

"No action to speak of," Stevie reported. "We went on Thursday...in fact, I missed All My Children AND One Life To Live waiting on the doctor...so now we wait. She's coming when she's coming...get ready for your son's future wife, Chris...she's coming soon!"

"I'll let you go," Christine said with a laugh. "I know you're watching The Jeffersons."

"Thank you! Just for that, Lindsey and I will pay for Jodie and Julia's wedding."

Many a late-night conversation in bed had occurred before Stevie and Lindsey had decided on a name. If it was a boy, he would be Aaron Morris - after Stevie's grandfather the country singer and pool shark, and Lindsey's father who had died in 1974. If it was a girl, her name would be Julia Robin - for Stevie's best friend in the world, the one who'd been the one to clue her in that she was pregnant to begin with, the one who'd been with her in October when she'd gotten the news.

"As I understand it, the American custom says the bride's parents pay anyway," Christine said, laughing.

"Then we'll have the wedding in England so it becomes a grand gesture." Stevie took a bite of her cake and said, "I'm going to go and enjoy my show, hon. Say hi to John and my son-in-law."

Stevie resumed her evening of cake and television, waiting for Lindsey to come home. He and Mick had gone out to dinner to discuss where the band was going to record the new album. Lindsey had already declared he had no intention of making Rumors Part 2, and he had been championing for a more progressive sound reminiscent of The Clash and the Talking Heads. He'd listened to "Psycho Killer" on repeat in the car the other day, going on at length about the genius of David Byrne in between singing, "F-f-f-far better!" and howling along in the right spots. Stevie had called him a nut, but she had to admit, it was a catchy song.

She carried her empty dish and fork down to the kitchen after The Jeffersons. Glancing at the doors to the yard she noticed it had begun to rain. She thought of Lindsey on his way home, most likely cursing the rain and thinking of how the song by Albert Hammond Jr. was wrong - it did rain in Southern California. He'd made that reference in the car recently and she'd laughed hysterically for the rest of the drive.

She had to pee again. She groaned and waddled barefoot in The Rolling Stones t-shirt to the downstairs bathroom, not wanting to face climbing the stairs again without Lindsey as an escort.

"Julia or Aaron Buckingham...you're killing me, kid," she said down to her enormous belly, which everyone told her only looked big to her because she was so tiny.

She was on her way to the bathroom when she heard the first patch of thunder. Shit. Thunder all alone. She sat down to pee, willing Lindsey to walk through the front door of the house. She washed her hands when she was finished, and she was just about to reach up to turn out the light when she suddenly heard a huge roll of thunder and saw lightning coming from the nearby living room windows so bright it lit up the night sky. She was so engrossed in the thunder and lightning that she barely felt the sudden pressure in the lower half of her body, which ended when a large explosion of liquid came falling out of her onto the black and white tiled floor.

Her water had broken.

"Okay," she said out loud to herself. "Fuck...okay." Lindsey was on his way home, she thought. This was going to be fine. She felt no pain yet, no contractions...except she was starting to think the backache she'd woken up with this morning was not because of how she'd slept. Slightly freaked out that she was standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid, she braced herself against the sink as a pain the likes of which she had never felt before tore through her. It was over soon enough, but now it was clear.

Where the hell was Lindsey?

As if on cue, Stevie heard the front door slam. She heard keys jingling. She felt safe.

"Stevie? Where's my sweet girl? Jeffersons over yet?"

"Lindsey!" she cried out from the bathroom just as a second contraction came on and made her suck in a breath and grip the side of the sink. He had followed her voice and was standing in the doorway, a slightly stricken look coming to his face when he saw her condition.

"Is this it?" He watched her nod furiously, gripped by pain. "Okay...okay, we've got this...let me go get the bag we packed, and we're out of here!"

"Lindsey...Ginny..." she said, her eyes widening in terror. "She's on the bed and can't climb down alone...bring her down here and make sure she's got fresh cold water and kibble in the bowls...a clean wee wee pad...living room TV on...light..."

Lindsey listened to Stevie listing everything she needed him to do for the dog and knew what an amazing mother she was going to be. He winked and said, "You got it, Mommy."

The contractions were five minutes apart by the time Lindsey had secured her in the passenger's seat of his car, her hospital suitcase in the back, Ginny's needs for a long time at home alone met.

"First babies are supposed to take, like, a whole day to come out," she said as he started the car, and look of fear in her eyes. "Fuck that Better Homes And Gardens book about pregnancy I read...this is happening!"

"We've got this," Lindsey said for the second time. "Hang in there, angel. I'll get us there, thunderstorm or not."

He turned on the ignition and the car radio came on, and they both started laughing when they heard the song that was playing.

"Thunder only happens when it's raining...Players only love you when they're playing...Women, they will come and they will go...When the rain washes you clean you'll know..."

"Okay, that is a sign!" Stevie said, a lull in the pain affording her a moment of clarity. "Let's go have a baby, Linds."

"Leave it to you to go into labor in the middle of a thunderstorm, Stevie," he teased.

Stevie could feel another contraction starting, and she gripped the door handle in the car.

"What can I say?" she said with a shrug just before the pain hit. "I have always been a storm."

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