Decades

Gone

Stevie's condo was always a sanctuary for her. She hadn't been ready to go back so soon, though. The life she'd recently been living had been far more of a refuge than she'd expected it to be. Having that uninterrupted time with Lindsey had been good for her soul.

Until it wasn't.

As she walked into her foyer, she paused to look at some of the photographs displayed there. There was a black and white picture of herself and Christine laughing, with their arms around each other. Stevie, who was much shorter than Christine, was resting her head on Christine's shoulder. It must have been taken in the late seventies. She wasn't sure exactly when. But it reminded her of the comfortable laughter and the fun they'd always shared.

Stevie missed Christine every single day. Though they didn't talk daily or even weekly, knowing that they could speak was all they needed. They'd had front-row seats for each other's lives. Christine's friendship had been one of the most important of Stevie's entire life. Just knowing she was on the planet with her and ready to talk, offer her advice, or just laugh with her when she needed it had meant too much. The fact that they'd made beautiful music together had just been a bonus.

Just then, at that moment, Stevie really wished she could pick up the phone and call her old friend and bandmate. Losing her still didn't seem real. How could someone so alive just not exist anymore? It shouldn't be possible.

Stevie fished around in a box of old photos that she had on her bookshelf. There were some polaroids in that box that she rarely remembered were there, but she was drawn to them today. Fucking nostalgia, she thought to herself. Spending so much time with Lindsey had left her roaming the outskirts of memory lane now that she was alone again.

These photos wouldn't be found on the internet or in any of the archives documenting the band. They were all hers, no copies—just photos from an instant camera for the most part. The first photo she came to was of John and Mick hamming it up for the camera. She could see Christine in the background laughing at them, a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. The guys were each holding a Heineken. John wasn't looking at the camera but over at Christine with a sly smile.

Stevie made a mental note to check on him. Christine's loss wasn't something that John would get over easily. The last time they'd spoken, his sadness had broken her heart. He was a man of few words but of big feelings.

She came across another photo, this one making her catch her breath. Lindsey was standing behind her; he had his hand on her bare arm, and his face was nuzzled into her neck. His arm was around her waist, holding her close to him. Stevie was laughing and had her head thrown back. Here was proof. There were happy times, even when life was hard. She thinks that she and Lindsey were officially broken up by then, but they must have let it slide as they so often did. She was fairly certain this was at a barbecue at Mick's.

They'd been so young and had no idea what life would bring their way. Even when they weren't officially a couple, Stevie had never doubted that they would eventually work it out. They loved each other deeply.

The next photos were from what appeared to be some sort of fancy gala. She hadn't seen these in years. There were several posed shots of the band. It was always difficult to get a picture of the five of them; there were too many moving parts, and they had a tendency not to stay put.

Christine looked amazing, legs for days. John, it seemed, was trying to wander off. Mick was between Chris and Stevie, arms around them both. Lindsey was beside Stevie. But he didn't look as amused as the rest of the band. Stevie noticed that her smile wasn't a genuine one and saw that she seemed to be gripping Lindsey's arm, trying to hold onto him, but he was pulling away from her.