My Heart

My Eyes Still Close

Santa Monica, California
Friday, May 28, 2010
(3:00 pm)
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"She's a good girl...loves her mama...loves Jesus, and America too..."

A smile came across Stevie's lips in the bathroom mirror as she stood at the sink and applied lipstick while "Free Fallin'" began To play on the shower radio a few feet away. The sound of her good friend Tom's voice filled her with comfort and joy, and she said out loud to him as if he were in the room, "You're awesome, Tom. I love you. I needed that!"

Neither comfort nor joy had been with her for most of the morning, waking up at ten beside Sulamith and realizing shortly after opening her eyes that it was Friday - the Friday before Memorial Day weekend - and Dave was going to tell her they should see about fixing "Soldier's Angel" before everyone broke for the next three days for their barbecues and pools and family excursions and fireworks. She had been at her wit's end about the song for weeks now, and Dave had suggested just "using the damn demo" if they couldn't get a handle on it, but she knew that wasn't the answer either.

Deep down, she knew what the answer was.

Deep down, she knew who the answer was.

She was not ready to make that call.

"It's a long day living in Reseda," Tom Petty sang over the radio. "There's a freeway running through the yard...And I'm a bad boy 'cause I don't even miss her...I'm a bad boy for breaking her heart..."

Stevie put the cap back on her lipstick and tossed it back into the Louis Vuitton makeup case that had been a birthday from Christine McVie two years before. She still remembered opening the festive package encased in a FedEx box from England, with the sappy birthday card with two blonde women on the front in an friendly embrace by the ocean, and Christine's message scrawled into the card - A classic piece for a classic lady to hold all of the goodies she uses to make herself even more beautiful. Happy 60th, sweetheart. Welcome to the club haha. Love you, Chris. She took a look in the mirror, running her index finger and its long bare fingernail along her lower lip to wipe away excess mauve lipstick, and sighed as she fluffed her bangs a bit. She could hear the commotion already beginning downstairs and she knew Dave had arrived, and she turned out the bathroom light and walked over to Sulamith, who sat in the middle of her rumpled down comforter in a Tiffany blue sweater and matching hair bow, looking up at her with the most adorable little face.

"Are you ready to see Dave, cutie pie?" she asked the little dog, bending down to scoop her up into her arms. Once the dog was curled up like a baby in her arms, she said, "Dave is here and Auntie Sharon and Auntie Lori and Uncle Waddy and everyone who thinks you're cute." She kissed the dog's head and added, in an almost conspiratorial tone, "Mommy knows who really needs to come over and help us, but not today...Mommy isn't ready...but he is the only one who knows what to do and we have to call him sometime to see if he can help us make the song. But right now, let's go down and see Dave and have some fun, okay, baby girl?"

Sulamith, a thirteen-year-old Chinese crested yorkie mix with failing eye sight and failing hearing, looked curiously at her mom, her little head titling from side to side. Stevie couldn't hold back her smile - despite the many other things on her mind - looking into the eyes of her beautiful little old lady, her baby. She had loved every dog she'd ever had, of course, like they were her children - she still cried alone sometimes at night thinking of adorable little Ginny twirling around on the bed, of Branwen extending her paw in a high-five, of Sara Belladonna prancing around the studio - but she had to admit, there was something special about Sulamith, something that set her apart from the others. Her own lyrics came to mind then, thinking of how much she loved that little old hairless baby in a sweater that she held in her arms.