Without You

6. Rumination

He stood frozen in shock. The obvious assumption was forgery, by Jess himself or even a hired service. But Lindsey knew Stevie's handwriting. The years of grocery lists stuck to their fridge had assured that. But even after their domestic days, the many autographs, occasional tear-stained letter and, of course, endless lyric sheets kept him familiar with her particular script. So he knew—this was real.

Then she's alive.

Or at least had been, for a significant period of time during which everyone else believed otherwise.

And Jess knew.

Then, on the phone that night, it really had been Stevie. Jess had assured her whoever was doing alright and that they would be up to visit soon. Were they talking about me?  Why would they have—when this entire situation proved just how little they cared for him. All these years, the shared grief, the endless support, had been a lie. They had seen him at his worst, known how much Stevie's loss had deeply affected him. In some ways, he had felt closer to the Nicks than his own mother. But now, well, he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive them.

What did he do with this information? He couldn't confront Jess: after the past days' revelations, he felt like he hardly knew the man. And if he had gone to this much effort for this long to conceal Stevie, he probably wouldn't be giving up the game anytime soon. He had to be smarter than that.

The squealing of a loose wheel on a medical gurney outside the door brought him back to reality. First, he had to get out of this hospital.

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Picking at some cold fries, Lindsey wracked his brain for anything they might have divulged during this most recent visit or even earlier. All he knew was that she was (almost certainly) alive. But he had no idea where or how to find her. Maybe it should be enough to know that she hadn't died that night, that she was living happily in obscurity somewhere. But it wasn't, not when there were apologies to made, explanations to be demanded, and embraces to be had. Even if she pushed him out the door and wanted never to see him again, if he could hold her one last time, look in her eyes and see for himself that she was alright—well it was still more that he thought he'd ever have again.

He pushed away his plate, more than finished with the lackluster offerings of the crummy little diner he had stopped at on the way back from the hospital. Signaling for the check, he looked out the window absently, noting the cracks and hollows of the asphalt, highlighted by the bright summer day. It was just off the highway, kitschy billboards standing proud. Looking for storage? WE can help...

Storage...Stevie's things...

Fiddling with the chain he hadn't taken off since it had been gifted to him, he recalled Barb had mentioned storing Stevie's things up in Sedona. Could it really be that simple?  While a short phone call to Barbara would probably get him an address, he might as well head there now as any location she gave him would be nearby. Even her reaction itself might be telling. 

Quickly rummaging through his wallet, he slammed down a twenty, which would more than cover his mediocre meal. The bell rang cheerfully as he practically ran out the door, jumping into his car and making his way back onto the freeway, headed east.

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He took a deep breath, exhausted. He had stopped only once to fill gas, and it was barely ten minutes before he was back on the road. The amount of time I have spent in that goddamn car in the past week. He waited only minutes on the porch before the door opened slowly, Barbara's expression revealing just how unexpected his visit was.

"Lindsey? Honey, did you forget something? I don't remember finding anything in the guest room.."

"No, I-I actually have been thinking a lot about what you said. Or, um, rather what you meant, in giving me that guitar. There's been a lot that I've been pushing off, and it's been long enough." The lame excuse was all he could think of on such short notice.

"Well that's..good, Lindsey. To be honest, I'm a little shocked. You've never been one to...let things go very easily." He laughed deprecatingly at the accuracy of her remark as she led him into the house.

"I know there's still a lot I haven't dealt with. Which is why I'm here actually, I was wondering whether you'd let me look through some of her things? You had mentioned some storage you guys had up here and, well, it would mean a lot to me." He finished, leaning against the kitchen counter. Hopefully this addition would make his argument a little more convincing.

"I'm...well I'm not sure, honey. You know how...delicate Jess gets about these things."

"I get it. But...I drove all the way up here and, well, I was really hoping to do this today. It's only me, Barb. I don't think he'd mind. If he ends up having a problem with it, I'll talk to him. Please, this is...this is really important to me." The guilt he felt at emotionally manipulating this woman who had done so much for him was tempered by the recollection that she had been lying to him for years.

"Well alright," she sighed, worry and suspicion clouding her expression. She quickly scribbled an address before ripping the sheet from the notepad.

"There's also a keypad, the code is 0724," she informed him. Nodding, he reached for the note, but she withheld it, eyes warning.

"Lindsey, try not to mention anything to Jess. We wouldn't want to worry him." She looks at him meaningfully. What is she...

"It was good to see you again, honey." Grasping him in a quick embrace, she kissed his cheek before sending him off.

He swings the car door open, trying to decipher her written directions. Looking up as he takes a seat, he sees her outline watching him through one of the windows for a moment before the drapes fall shut.