Decades

Sadly, He Did Not Read Between Her Lines

Lindsey's recovery was a tough one. He did as he was told and surprisingly wasn't as worried as his voice as everyone assumed he would be. Just getting well enough to have a life outside of being ill was his main concern.

The support he needed came from his family. They were there for him every step of the way. Kristen stayed with Lindsey around the clock until it was clear that he was stable.

Lindsey was easily overcome with emotion these last few days. Walking so close to death's door without going through it had that effect on people. Lindsey had always been a man of big feelings. So, his reaction to a near-death experience didn't surprise anyone. But, it was difficult to watch the typically strong musician struggle with diminished health and sudden onslaughts of tears.

For not the first time, what it meant to be married to a much older husband began to dawn on her. It wasn't the time for such thoughts, but when Stevie's letter was delivered to the hospital, she began to think about the consequences of being married to a much older man who was in love with someone else.

Kristen was given the letter from Stevie to give to Lindsey. The creamy, heavy envelope had Stevie Nicks embossed on the envelope. No denying who'd sent it. She wondered what the letter would contain. She'd seen Stevie at the hospital in a wheelchair the day of Lindsey's heart attack. She wasn't sure if Stevie knew about Lindsey that day or not. But she certainly didn't rush to tell her. The last thing she wanted while waiting to see if Lindsey was going to survive was the woman he'd been a serial adulterer with hanging around.

Holding the letter, she debated tossing it in the trash. Lindsey would never know it existed. Indeed, it would be better if all of the drama that came with his feelings for Stevie could be avoided. But then she remembered Stella and LeeLee talking about how their dad kept asking where Stevie had gone when he first awakened after his heart attack. And how a few times since he'd asked and didn't seem to believe them when they told him she hadn't been there.

Maybe this letter was something he needed to read. She hadn't come to him. She'd claimed to love him years earlier and cast him to the side over and over. And now, when he faced actual death, she couldn't be bothered with dropping in. The hospital was minutes from her house. And Kristen had seen her there, so she knew she was in town. And even if she hadn't been, if she'd have cared anything about him, she would have at least called to check on him.

So, let her pour her heart out in a letter. It wouldn't mean anything because Lindsey would see who actually showed up for him. She wished she could open the letter. She was dying to read what the singer had to say. But she knew better than to cross that line. Lord knows, over the years, she'd learned that anything that woman did was sacred to her husband. This letter would be treated like newly discovered scripture, Kristen feared.

When she arrived in Lindsey's room, he was sitting up in bed dressed in his hospital gown. He needed a shave, and his eyes looked weak and lifeless. He was drinking a cup of coffee, "Decaf," he rolled his eyes derisively.

Kristen walked over, kissed him on the forehead, and plopped in the familiar chair beside his bed. "How'd you sleep?"

They talked through the details of his needing help getting up during the night and the no-nonsense nurse who'd been on duty last night. He'd had a reaction to one of the medications and had to have Benadryl in his IV a time or two during the night.

He asked about the kids and the house. She told him that his brother had a visit planned.

"Have you heard from any of the band?" Lindsey asked, almost shyly. Kristen felt sorry for him at this moment. The people he had created much of his life's history with mostly ignored his struggle to survive. Yet he still desperately hoped they were saving him a place.

Kristen was aware that this question was simply his way of asking if Stevie had reached out. She was actually relieved to be able to deliver the letter. "As a matter of fact..." Kristen said as she reached for her bag. She fished out the envelope and handed it to Lindsey.

As he held the envelope, she noticed that some of the color seemed to have returned to his cheeks. She was glad to see it return, but damn the woman who put it there.

Lindsey studied his name, written on the front of the envelope in Stevie's pretty cursive handwriting. "Lindsey," was all it said. But, as he traced his thumb over the letters, it seemed to say so much more. He wasn't sure what she would write to him, but he was certain it would be intimate and personal. For this reason, he wasn't interested in reading it in front of his wife.

He had felt so emotional lately he wasn't sure he could control his reaction to Stevie's words. She was a writer, and he knew that whatever she said to him would be heartfelt and beautiful. Though things had been rocky, maybe this health scare was what it would take to iron out the issues in their relationship.

"Oh, that was nice," Lindsey said casually, placing the envelope on the table that held his decaffeinated coffee and his very bland breakfast. Instead of ripping into the envelope and seeing what Stevie had to say to him, he opted to finish the pasty oatmeal he'd been served. But, seeing her familiar handwriting had cheered him.

He had a vague but fading memory of Stevie being there at the most critical time following his heart attack. But, when he's asked the girls and his nurses about it, no one has been willing to tell him anything. It makes him wonder if he might have imagined the whole thing.

But it felt so real.

Kristen noticed that he hadn't read the letter but kept glancing at it. She wasn't sure whether she appreciated that or not. He wasn't fooling her; she knew he wanted nothing more than to read what Stevie had to say. But she also wondered if he wasn't purposefully not reading it so he could pretend it didn't matter to him for her benefit. That's thoughtful, right?

After he finished his breakfast, she moved his table out of the way to help fluff the pillows behind him and help him get in a more comfortable position. The nurse came in to check his wound and administer some meds, and Kristen excused herself to grab some coffee from the hospital cafeteria.

When she returned, Lindsey was in a deep, medicated sleep. In his hand, he clutched the now crumbled letter from Stevie.

—-----------

As soon as the nurse finished with him, he asked her to hand him the envelope on the table. He was relieved for the chance to read it privately.

He scanned the letter, starving for something personal, some private meaning, something to hold onto. He'd been close to leaving this world and never seeing her again, and the idea frightened and crushed him. Surely, the gravity of the situation had brought her to her senses about her feelings for him.

But it was the most generic thing that woman had ever written. It was polite enough, he supposed, but about as personal as what she would have sent to a roadie who'd had a heart attack while working for her.

He turned the letter over, but there was nothing on the back. He looked at the envelope again. Nothing in her neat handwriting held anything more. She doesn't care, Lindsey sadly thought. I lay there dying, and I imagined her being my reason to hang on. And when I do hear from her, it's this. She could have written this same generic get-well message to her gardener. I've always been a fool where she's concerned.

As his pain meds and the Benadryl kicked in and he began to drift off, his thoughts were of how Stevie hadn't come to him and instead wrote him a note that proved he'd meant very little to her. Those few cool lines were more devastating than if she'd ignored him completely.

He crumbled the letter, spread it out again, revisited her words, and then crumbled it in his hand again but couldn't seem to let it go. And if that isn't my relationship with Stevie in a nutshell, Lindsey thought as his eyes fluttered shut.