Fleetwood Mac-Part III of Fritz Series

Silver Springs

***A/N sexual content***

November 12th 1976

At nine months pregnant driving for Stevie is a near impossibility. Not that she drove much before, but since I've left she's been left with no alternative. My little escapade in the hotel cost me about seven grand, the upside is my rock and roll credibility went up, the downside I'm no longer allowed at the Hyatt downtown...Whatever. The first person to call on me after mine and Stevie's separation was mom, she was pissed as I suspected she would be ad she laid into me for about an hour. I had no response, I pretended to listen and calmly drove her to the airport afterwards. We haven't spoke since. Greg was next, and I've never seen him more upset with me. just like mom he read me the riot act, and just like that conversation I listened said nothing and saw him back to the terminal to catch his flight back to L.A.

Haven't heard a word out of him either.

Jeff was less condescending but no less pissed at me, I suppose being in my employ restrained him somewhat and he stopped short of actually lecturing me on my behavior. I told him to fuck off and go home, and he did. We've been on sparse speaking terms to say the least. Barbra, Jess and Chris haven't said a word to me, but I know they know. Rather than returning home they're camped out at the rental house and of course they're sick with worry about Stevie. They're her parents so I don't blame them...God only knows what they're telling Sara and Nova about me.

The next time Stevie and I talk is at work four days after our fight. She still looks pissed and upset and I'm cold toward her "I need to know where you're staying Lindsey" turning my attention from my mixing table to her I lower my headphones "Why?" she huffs crossing her arms "It may have escaped your notice but I'm nine months pregnant with your baby! And by the way you still have two children wondering where their daddy is" annoyed I scribble the address of my hotel down and give it to her. We don't speak anymore that day.

My visits with Sara and Nova are at the weekends, and I do my best to avoid any negativity when they come to see me. Barbra or Robin usually tag along for the duration, as if I'm dangerous or something. I'm not going to hurt my children, I'd never hurt Stevie...she just needs to figure out her fucking priorities. Robin typically treats me in her usual fashion, slightly more shade thrown my way though. I wonder how fucking self righteous she'd feel if she knew about Jeffery playing squeeze the pickle with a groupie.

Barbra is distant but polite, but there's a tinge of something else there I've never seen from her before. I'd describe it as restrained disgust. Fine. She's Stevie's mom she has the right to be pissed off, she only knows one side of the story. I don't blame her for being pissed. But since she and Jess can't stay here indefinitely they eventually pack up and leave halfway through October. Chris goes with them I get the feeling he's on the same page as Barbra and Jess about me, but as is consistent with his personality he doesn't say it.

With Robin busy and no one else she can rely on Stevie calls me up for a ride to the OBGYN. She doesn't ask so much as tells me to pick her up, and since it's tantamount to her admitting that she does indeed need me I go anyway. It feels good to be right. We ride together in silence the radio playing some Queen song. Once at the doctor she does her best to ignore me answering all of the doctor's questions as if I'm not in the room, which is fine. When he asks if I'm excited about the impending birth I answer truthfully, I am. My problems with Stevie don't translate to indifference toward my kids.

Pulling up to the house I idle in the driveway while she gathers herself and her things together "I need you to pick up Sara and Nova" smirking I look over the seat at her as she stands on the gravel drive "You need me-that's funny. Is Jimmy busy?" her eyes flash and she slams the door to the car leaning in the open window she fixes me with an angry glare "You're a fucking piece of work do you know that? I'm asking you, as their father to pick them up!" I fiddle with the radio nob "Yeah, don't worry about it" my eyebrows raise indicating toward her hands in the window, and she steps back.