Is a Dream Just a Dream?

If I Were You

***A/N content warning***

"I think I deserve a fucking explanation Kristen, and I expect you to call me back before I call the cops. Bye." Message four that I've left for her since she decided to destroy my property. I'm really struggling to balance doing what I think is right...calling the police, and protecting my sons feelings. The last thing I want is to be THAT divorced couple. The one that spends each waking moment thinking of ways to hurt their former spouse regardless of how pathetic it comes off to everyone else. Compound that with the fact that I'm truly happy for the first time in decades and I'm bordering o dropping the issue entirely. But something keeps telling me not to.

"She didn't answer the last three Linds I doubt she's going to answer that one" Stevie and I have started dual rehearsals for our Buckingham Nicks tour and we've been working at it nearly ten hours a day. It's Saturday so we've given ourselves a break from performing to look at real estate in Beverly Hills. It's a decent distance from the twins schools and it's an area we can both agree on. I don't have anything against Malibu per se but I don't want to live in Stevie's house or my house. I want us to own a home together, and my staunchly independent wife, for once, agrees with me.

My phone buzzes then beeps and I look at the resulting text message

K: Fuck off Asshole

Stevie looks down and sighs as the driver steers us through the streets of Beverly Hills toward our first real estate option. "Linds, I hate to say this but I think maybe you should drop it. You're just winding her up more" I didn't start this, she's the one who went all crazy pants and fucked up my car "I can't believe you want me to forget about this, she destroyed my car..." the ruby red of Stevie's nails contrasts against the charcoal of my dress slacks as her hand moves up and down my thigh "Honey it's not worth it. She's still manipulating you and your emotions is that okay with you?" No, but I don't think she should just be allowed to get away with what she did either.

"What if it doesn't stop? What if she goes all Glenn Close on me?" Stevie chuckles squeezing my leg "I seriously doubt she's going to go that far. She might write another unflattering book about your relationship though, she's got Carol Ann's contact information apparently" Don't remind me. That's just what I need Storms part Two "Now with MORE Bull Shit!". The car pulls up to the black gates of a modest, for Stevie, stone manor house. Giddy she takes my hand Kristen all but forgotten as we prepare to tour homes as a couple for the first time in fifty years.

My phone beeps again and I look at the new message. I smile it's from Will, he's sent me a picture of a motorcycle. He's fallen in love with those lately, I've never been motor head my collection of guitars was always much more important to me than anything on two wheels. But I can honestly say I have no desire to learn how to ride a motorcycle, nor do I have any particular fondness for the idea of my first born son tearing down the open highways on one at unreasonable speeds.

I show Stevie and she leans against my shoulder "Those things are so dangerous" I think I can get used to the two of us agreeing on things. I type out a one-word response for my son before pocketing my phone.

Me: NO!

"You think 4800 square feet is too small?" Stevie blinks at me in query as I open the door for us to leave the car "I think you've been a rock star for too long sweetheart" she gives me one of her crooked smirks smacking my arm gently "I remember how the other half lives Linds. Lets not forget who was the breadwinner the last time we lived together" I never will, for all her talk of sewing moons and stars on my jeans she pulled her weight an mine.

***

San Francisco 1972

"Dude...you ever wonder like what cats dream about?" the ceiling looks like popcorn...I'm hungry. Waddy and Richard are burning a bowl nearby while some bleach blonde on the news is jawing about oil prices. Waddy looks at me funny "Cats? Do cats dream?" Richard coughs then laughs at Waddy "Of course they dream, they go to sleep don't they? I mean they move their paws and stuff and make noises...so like what are they dreaming about?" The house is a fucking sty...I really should pick some of this crap up. Stevie will be home soon, which means she'll be tired, and probably pissed off at me. I don't want to yell today this buzz is way too good.