You Could Be My Silver Spring

Loss

I was awoken to the sound of the phone ringing. Who could be calling at this hour? Lindsey moaned, rolled me off of him, and staggered over to the wall where the phone was. He coughed once, twice, then picked up.

I shivered under all the blankets and rubbed my baby belly. We could barely afford to heat the tiny apartment, and this January had been the coldest one I'd ever lived in. I flipped over and read the clock. 3:46. Who the fuck was calling.

Lindsey spoke in hushed tones to whoever was on the other line.

"Ok. Yes. I understand. I'm in shock. I'll drive down with Stevie first thing tomorrow. Yes. Thank you. No. It's fine. Goodnight." He hung up the phone and just stood there, his back to me.

"Babe?" I whispered into the still darkness.

"I..." Was all he said. He looked up at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity.

"Come 'ere," I rubbed a spot for him on the bed. "It's cold."

He didn't answer. I had a feeling that something had happened, bad.

Lindsey finally came to bed. He got under the covers and faced me, grabbed me, and just cried. In the eight years I had known him, I had seen him cry maybe two times.

"Stevie..." Was all he could say.

"Baby, I'm here. It's gonna be ok." Was all I could say back. I had no clue what was going on.

Lindsey held me tightly and just wept for a while. We didn't speak. I began to cry too. I don't know why, it just really hurt me to see him like that. After a while I feel asleep. I'm not sure if he did.

The next morning the sun woke me up. Lindsey still had a death grip on me so I loosened his arms a bit. He reacted and shifted so I could roll over.

I looked at him. His eyes we red and puffy. A tear rolled out if his left eye and I wiped it away.

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked him quietly.

"Um..." His voice cracked. "Yeah." I wiped his eyes again. "Jeff called last night. Sorry it woke you up, Steph."

"It's ok. I was just really cold." Another tear fell from his eye.

"He said that," his voice cracked again, "my dad died last night."

I let out air that I didn't know I was holding. That was not what I expected. Lindsey was so close to his dad. He always encouraged him to go on with his musical career. He had even let us set up a makeshift recording studio in his coffee factory.

Lindsey grabbed me again, kissing the top of my head.

"Lindsey, I," I said into his chest. "I'm so so so sorry, baby." I didn't wanna ask how it happened.

"I told them we would drive down there." He drew small circles into my back.

"Let me call into work." He relentlessly let me go. "I'll get the next few days off."

Mark, my boss, gave me the whole week off, thankfully. This was going to be really hard on Lindsey.

Lindsey laid in bed as I packed a small bag for us. A pair of jeans for both of us. A couple t-shirts of his. A button-down dress shirt. A blue dress for me.

I called the next door neighbor, Kathy, and told her what had happened and asked her to get our mail for us for the week. I put Lindsey's guitar, the bag of clothes, and Lindsey's song book by the door.

"Babe?" I called. "You ready?"

"Yeah." I heard Lindsey reply, he was obviously just now getting out of bed.

I walked into the bedroom. He was running around trying to get dressed quickly. I watched him from the doorway. He threw on a purple dress shirt and took off his pajama pants.

"Where are my jeans?" He asked, pacing the room, half naked.

"I packed a few of them. Look in the hamper." He nodded and walked over to the basket. "Sorry babe. I stole them."

"Oh no," he laughed, which made me smile. "I guess I'll have to go half dressed."

"I'm not sure I would mind." I laughed back at him.

"Yes, but I think everyone else would." He found a pair and put them on hastily. They had a moon I embroidered on them on the left side. He looked like he was about to go on stage.

"You ready now?" He picked up his guitar and the bag.

"I was waiting on you, remember?" I let my hand brush his face.

"Oh right." He opened the door. "After you, Miss Nicks."

"Thank you, Mr. Buckingham." I said, picking up his song book off the ground and walking out of the apartment.

AN~

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