Five Days

Day Three

Sometimes Stevie worried that one day they would start recording harmonies for a new song and they wouldn't be able to make it work. She'd long accepted that her vocal limitations were becoming greater as the years went on but her ability to harmonize perfectly with Lindsey was something she felt inherent to her very being. The way their voices wrapped around each other's was a reminder of that fateful first meeting and of all that they'd done since - the children, the songs, they'd made together.

Because as much she liked to claim bragging rights as a solo artist, as much as she resisted giving Lindsey TOO much credit, he was always in her songs. Even the songs that weren't about him and didn't have his creative fingerprint on had his mark - simply because he was a part of her creatively and emotionally and had been for most of her life. He bled through her work as she bled through his.

Leelee sat on the sofa next to her, quiet for once, and they watched as Lindsey set up the microphones and other equipment. His oldest daughter hadn't seen them recording together before and had asked if she could come and watch and Stevie had been more than happy to oblige her. "What song are you going to do?" she asked, genuine curiosity evident in her youthful voice.

"It's called Without You. A very, very, very old song."

"From when you first joined Fleetwood Mac with Dad?"

"Before that, even. He disagrees with me, of course, but I'm pretty sure I wrote it when we still lived back in San Francisco, before we even moved to LA."

"Wow."

"Indeed," Stevie agreed, laughing. "It's a nice song though."

"About Dad?" Leelee asked.

"Well, of course. According to him, I'm unable to write about anything else."

"Such a liar," she smirked.

He was. But it was too close to the truth for Stevie to refute his daughter's words.