Timeless

10

1974-December-Lindsey

December is coming to an end. Stevie is still working. She went up like three uniform sizes and her wedding ring doesn't fit anymore. The good thing about that though, is that people are starting to feel bad for her and they've been tipping her really well. I'm still on the couch, as to be expected. But right before Christmas, which was three days ago, my parents delivered four large boxes and Robin.

The contents of the boxes included a crib, changing table, a dresser, and two new guitars for me. A new Gibson and a new Acoustic.

From Arizona, Jess and Barbara sent us a ton of neutral and knitted baby clothes and blankets. Some bottles, diapers, a stroller, and a baby carrier.

Stevie is crocheting a grey blanket and Ginny is getting reacquainted with the apartment. Stevie took her when she left.

"Lindsey, I know we have a song called Rhiannon, but don't you think that's a pretty name?" Stevie asks, laying dinner down in front of me.

"Sure it is," I smile scooping the pasta onto my plate. Sure the name is pretty but it's not my favorite considering we do have the song but the couch/futon is killing my back and I would like to switch places with Robin, who is occupying my side of the bed.

"Tomorrow is new years eve, what are we going to do? I'm off." Stevie asks as Robin just picks at her nails.

"Well, I was planning on going to the studio if you feel up to it. I'd like you to come." I smile.

"Okay, I've written several songs I'd like to get demos on. Robin will you be fine here by yourself tomorrow?" She smiles.

"I'll be fine." Robin shrugs biting into pasta.

At the studio the next day, we were enjoying ourselves. Actually, enjoying ourselves. Walking down the hall, I hear a very familiar guitar riff, a riff from Frozen Love.

"Angel come here." I wave Stevie over.

"What?" She asks rubbing her stomach. Our baby must be moving around a lot. She still won't let me touch it.

"Listen," I say

"That's our song." She says.

I open the door and we peep inside. There's a giant man headbanging to our song.

***

That night, I'm watching the ball drop from the living room TV and the girls are having some sort of spa night in the bedroom when the phone rings.

"Hello," I answer.

"Is this Lindsey Buckingham?" A heavy British accent rings through the phone.

"Um yes, who are you?" I question sitting down on the couch. Ginny hopping onto my lap.

"I'm Mick Fleetwood. I'm the drummer and leader of a band called Fleetwood Mac. Keith Olsen played me your song today to show us what kind of studio Sound City is. I'm going to be blunt with you. Our guitarist just quit. Your solo was amazing. I played it for my bandmates and we'd like you to consider joining us for lunch, so we can meet you and talk things over." Mick says.

"But I'm already in a group. IF you want me, you have to take my wife too." I say looking towards 'my wife's room' because at this point that's exactly what it is.

"I'll discuss her with the band, but we already have a girl singer. It'll be up to her. I'll call you back." Mick says.

"Alright," I say and he hangs up.