Decades

More Questions Than Answers

With a stiff neck, Don Henley woke up on Stevie Nicks' hotel room sofa. He sat up, confused about where he was for a second. He wasn't sure of the time, or even the day, for that matter. He remembered going to sleep on the sofa as he was trying to wait Buckingham out so he might have a shot with Stevie. She looked as good as she had in years, and he didn't want that opportunity to pass him by. He had some good memories that he was hoping to make more of.

But, if he wasn't going to enjoy some time between the sheets with Stevie, then he sure as hell was going to make sure the other man didn't have the chance either. When he woke up, it seemed to be still dark outside.

Buckingham was on the other side of the couch sleeping. Don got up and called out to Lindsey, "Hey man! Party's over. Time to go home." The guitarist responded in true Lindsey Buckingham fashion by flipping Don off and rolling over, and going back to sleep.

After Don had cleared out, Lindsey woke up. He considered going to his room where he could get comfortable but decided against it. Stevie had let him in tonight, and she was going to have to kick him out if she didn't want him around. He wouldn't leave voluntarily.

He didn't have any hopes of being intimate with her, not really. That was strictly wishful thinking. She'd drawn the line back in the desert so many years before. Although they'd had some fleeting moments afterward, she'd never really let him back in.

He had tried to respect the boundaries she'd drawn, and for the most part, he had. Of course, all bets were off when they were on stage, and by unspoken agreement, they allowed themselves to truly express their feelings and emotions in ways they wouldn't have felt safe enough to do in private. But, when they were tempted to take those feelings off stage, Stevie quickly got a handle on it and shut things down.

More than once, she'd dismissed Lindsey, ignored him, and had been downright cold to him when he approached her and tried to discuss what they were both feeling. But, she'd laugh it off or respond sarcastically as if he was ridiculous, not to realize it was all part of an act for the fans. She was convincing on stage and off, leaving Lindsey thoroughly unsure of which was an act and which was the truth.

They were, after all, ancient history. They hadn't been in love in years. They weren't even friends. She'd said often of him to anyone who asked. They weren't anything, was her regular, unconvincing refrain.

Stevie had always said she'd never make a good actress. However, when he confronted her about the love he'd seen in her eyes on stage, she'd laugh at him and tell him it was part of the show. When Lindsey's eyes would cloud with hurt, she'd behave as if he was being foolish for bringing something as trivial as their past up. No Oscar winner had ever delivered more believable performances than Stevie at those times.

More than anything, she wanted to talk, to listen, to pour their hearts out, to start over. But, she'd simply pretend the conversations he wanted to have with her weren't significant enough to prioritize, and she never had time to talk. She'd use the friends who often traveled with her as human shields.

She was forever on guard. She was committed to keeping her distance. She had to be the strong one. She'd protect him by protecting his family. Stevie would gift him happiness by keeping herself far away from him.

She'd protect herself from allowing herself to be forever cast as the other woman. Broken-hearted fool, unfortunately, seemed to suit her much better.

For Stevie, touring with Lindsey was especially lonely and so difficult. So many times, he'd try to have these conversations after their shows. Keeping her steely resolve was hard. Seeing his pain and confusion was torture. Knowing if she gave in, she could spell out her feelings for him and be in his arms again had been agony.