~Stevie~
It's early when I find myself sitting outside by the fountain, waiting for Joplin and Brady, who are never on time for anything... sometimes I have to wonder if they even have a clock in their house. But I can't complain too much, it gives me time to take in the morning sun and the sweet sound of little birds chirping- two things I don't normally catch.
Inhaling heavily, I cross one leg over the other as a gentle breeze sweeps in and sends my curls fluttering around me.
I spent all weekend in my office, pushing myself around the room in my chair and tossing paper, after paper into the wastebasket. I have so much to say, so much on my mind, but the moment the pen hits the sheet, I can't formulate the words I want to use.
I've written about everything, all the things that have ever mattered to me and while I know I have a voice when it comes to Lindsey, it feels like there's a lump in my throat everyone time I open my mouth... I can't get it out.
Speaking of Lindsey, I finally decided to listen to his voicemails- all nineteen of them. He called me everyday that I was gone and even the days that I was home, yet didn't pick up the phone. He didn't give up on me; maybe he still hasn't... I don't know why, because I literally pushed him away. And I could have done it better, I know that, but there are some moments in life where the truth just hurts.
I love him enough to protect him from the pain that comes with what we were doing it... It might have seemed cold, or wrong, but I truly believe that he'll thank me in the end.
"Okay," I whisper to myself as I'm pulled back into reality by the sound of their SUV pulling through the gate. Smiling gently, I watch as Joplin pops out of the open sunroof, waving at me. "Sit down," I mouth, shaking my head slightly as a little giggle escapes me.
She really does keep my toes... and she's turning my hair gray one day at a time, but it's whatever.
"Hey, mama." Brady gives me a sweet smile as he hops out, pulling open the back door for me to slide in.
"Hi, babies." I reply, setting my purse in the empty seat next to me.
"You look so pretty today," Joplin is always so full of compliments- sometimes I can't tell if she's trying to be flattering, or if she is really full of shit... I don't know, but either way, I appreciate her efforts.
"Thank you, my sweet girl." I sink back into the leather, listening as Brady starts asking about my trip to Aruba.
And we spent the next fifteen minutes just chitchatting until we finally pull up to the curb right outside the studio doors.
~Lindsey~
"She's just leaving?" Dan creases a brow, having just spent the last ten minutes listening to me rant about my wife... The one that wants a divorce after twenty- five years of marriage.
"Yeah," shaking my head softly, I bring my cup of coffee up to my lips to take a sip. "Her sister is coming from Fresno tomorrow morning to pick her up." I hate the sound of that- I hate the thought of her actually leaving.
"I can't believe you're letting that woman get away." He half smirks, pausing outside the door, where the prominent sound of loud conversation is already apparent from the other side.
Shrugging lightly, I'm not exactly sure what to say. "Yeah, I let a lot of good things get away." I think she's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met... I'm certain she'd make great friends with Stevie.
"Put on a handsome little smile, Buck." Patting my arm softly, he pulls open the heavy wooden door. "We have music to make." He adds in a low tone as he leads the way in.
There are about a million people scattered around the room, which isn't all that unusual with this band... It seems like random people just crawl from the woodwork when this crew comes into the studio. But I won't lie, it's pretty cool.
"Good morning," it seems to come out of twenty people's mouths at once- disorganized and sloppy, just how we like it.
Chuckling softly, I move further through the crowd, trying to get around the guitars, sheet music and ashtrays resting on the cement floor. "Good-" I get ready to repeat their words, but my train of thought is cut off by the sight of her, sitting on the leather couch close to a couple of other men.
She's wearing a silky white blouse, long boots tied up to her knees as her blonde strands lay in natural, loose curls, pushed back behind her ear just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her porcelain face.
She really is breathtaking.
And just like that, my heart skips a beat, causing my coffee cup to slip right out of my grasp. "Fuck," I mumble the moment the mug hit's the hard floor, sending a million ceramic pieces flying everywhere.
"I'll find someone with a mop." Rachel jumps off her chair at the keyboard, hurrying through the room to fetch some help... Lord knows we need it.
"We might have to start calling you butterfingers," Brady's words cause everyone in the room to laugh, everyone besides Stevie and I.
Her mouth falls open the moment my eyes meet hers... She's more shocked to see me than I am to see her- the expression written across her face tells me so.
Stepping over the broken glass, Joplin's hand meets my back, motioning towards her mother. "Lindsey, this is my mom." She's good... She's fucking good. "This is the woman behind all the wonderful lyrics." She adds, slightly nudging me in that direction.
Nodding my head, I give her a gentle smile. I miss her. I have missed her more than I actually realized. "Would you mind jumping in the sound booth? I'd love to hear the voice behind the music."
