Decades

Difficult Times

Stevie let Lindsey know she wasn't feeling any better and wouldn't be coming into the studio today. But, she refrained from breaking the news about the pregnancy. She wasn't ready to face that yet.

When he popped by her house with Gatorade, ginger ale, saltine crackers, and popsicles, she was so touched that she nearly cried. She'd answered the door, but he walked her back to bed and demanded she lie down.

He brought her a drink. Then he wet and squeezed out a cold cloth to put on her face. He washed her face gently, smoothed her hair back, and kissed her lovingly on the top of her head. He then instructed her to call if she needed anything at all. He told her he loved her and would check on her later, a look of concern clouding his expression.

When she heard the door close and lock, she began to cry and did not think she'd ever stop. She had ruined everything for herself and this dear man.

—----------------

Later that evening, Don was at Stevie's door. She looked a fright when she let him in. He took her into his arms despite how she looked, and she let him. She almost immediately began to cry.

Don pulled away so he could see her face, "Stevie, baby, what's the matter?" he asked, pulling her chin up to force her to look at him.

She just sadly shook her head. "I've been really sick the last few days. So, I saw a doctor and..." she began.

"And we'll get through whatever it is together. What were you diagnosed with, sweetie?"

"Oh boy, it's not a disease. More of a condition," Stevie said, watching him closely for any sort of microexpression that might cross Don's face.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out, tears streaming.

Don paused briefly before quietly and hesitantly asking, "Is it mine?"

This question made Stevie want to slap him. It felt so insulting and made her feel cheap. Though, even as he asked, she knew that there had been many more chances of getting pregnant with Lindsey's baby than with his.

She and Lindsey had had sex almost daily, often multiple times a day, for the last month. In contrast, she and Don had only spent a long weekend together six weeks earlier. Just a few days and a pathetic choice on her part had upended her entire life. Lindsey's life. And the stability of the band. Not to mention Don's future as well, though he was truly the least of her worries, he only had to be involved if he chose to be.

So, in answer to Don's question, she didn't express outrage. She simply nodded in affirmation.

The two of them spent the evening talking; they imagined scenarios in which they married and had a baby girl whom they'd name Sara. They embraced on the sofa. They shed tears for what lay before them. Leaving them both saddened and melancholy.

When trying to determine what they should do, Don asked her if she loved him. Stevie paused, and instead of answering, she turned the question to him and asked if he loved her. Neither offered an answer, only a sad look, which was all the answer either of them really needed.

They might grow to love each other, Stevie thought. They had chemistry and a lot in common. But to truly love anyone else meant never having loved Lindsey first. There simply wasn't room in her heart for anyone else.

By the end of the long, emotional night, Stevie was exhausted but had made a decision she was fairly confident was the right one. Tomorrow, she'd seek an abortion.

Don climbed into bed with Stevie and held her until the next morning. She was thankful not to be alone with her sadness. She'd been sick during the night, and Don thought she was probably dehydrated and maybe experiencing some withdrawals since she was doing her best to avoid coke and alcohol since she was still carrying the baby, it only felt right.

He brought her a Gatorade that Lindsey had brought over, put a trash can beside her bed in case she couldn't make it to the bathroom, and held her gently throughout the long night. Watching this woman whom he truly cared about struggle because of an unplanned, unwanted pregnancy that was his fault left him feeling sad and empty. With some more time, they could love each other, he thought.

They were certainly attracted to each other and shared a love of music, talent, and star power. He wanted to make this better for her, feeling a surge of what might be love for the woman who was hurting in his arms tonight.

They could go through with the abortion, he thought. This didn't mean they needed to break up. They could stay together, and if the time was ever right, they could try again. They needed to get to know each other better first and spend more time together. He was sure that with time love would come.

For now, the timing was just too bad. So, he drew the tiny beauty closer to him and stroked her hair while feeling a profound sense of sadness.

—-------------

By noon the following day, the phone was ringing in Stevie's cavernous house. But no one was there to answer. Lindsey was very concerned and kicking himself for not spending the night with her and watching over her. He felt that she had needed him and he'd been absent. He quickly drove to her place before heading to work.

When he knocked, no one answered. He had a key, which she probably didn't remember him having. She'd given it to him when she first moved in, and he had dropped some of her things off when she wasn't at home. They were still finding and dividing their belongings years after their official break up, halfway hanging on to things so they could hold on to each other a little longer as they reluctantly untangled themselves.

He unlocked the door and let himself in, calling out for her. He noticed a wine glass and a ginger ale bottle on the coffee table. He took the stairs two at a time and found her bed unmade and a man's watch on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Someone else had been there, a man. But, she was so sick, it couldn't have been a romantic visit. What was even happening? Was she okay? He saw a trash can beside the bed and assumed it was there in case she threw up during the night.

Had she needed someone in the night and called someone other than him. Did she think he wouldn't come? Or did she not want him there? She knew that no matter the situation, he'd walk across broken glass and hot coals to be there for her. Why hadn't she called him?

He had no idea what was going on and could not put the clues he'd found together to save his life. He reached for her phone and called the hospital to ask if a Stephanie Nicks had been admitted. No one by that name was in a room.

He considered filing a missing person's report with the police but was afraid she would kill him since that would create a media circus. So, he left for the studio, more concerned than ever and unsure how to move forward.

He hoped she'd be there when he arrived, but she was not. He admitted his worry to his bandmates, hoping maybe Christine had heard from her. But no one had. They were far less concerned than he was and made light of his concerns. Jokes about her being on a bender were tossed around, and their lightheartedness wasn't sitting well with Lindsey. The woman he loved was missing and ill. And these clowns were making her the butt of a joke.

He called her house every few minutes. He drove by her house, contacted her friends, went by their apartments, and called the hospitals several more times. His worry and helplessness at what to do next were getting the best of him. Where could she be?

Later that evening, Lindsey drove by Stevie's house again, this time seeing the lights on, he breathed a sigh of relief. He assumed she'd be there since the last time he'd called her house, he got a busy signal. She must be at home now and boy did she have some explaining to do.

As he pulled into the driveway, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked there. His heart quickened, and all of a sudden, he had a very real sense of dread.