Down All Your Darkest Roads

Chapter Twenty-Two

Little Lies was finally released at the end of August, achieving praise and recognition beyond Christine's wildest dreams. Her little song reached number one on the US Adult Contemporary chart and was predicted to achieve similar success in the UK. Christine was overwhelmed with happiness but her achievement felt bittersweet; she wished Lindsey were there to celebrate with her. He prophesised her songs would be stellar knockouts and she secretly wanted to share her success with someone who believed in her Tango work from day one.

With a finished demo ready and waiting, Christine managed to wrangle a meeting with Russ Titelman, the producer of her 1984 solo album. Her manager tried to keep her expectations realistic; though she continually rode a professional high with Fleetwood Mac, her solo work flew under the radar and received mixed reviews. He warned Christine that while Russ liked and admired her talent, he was hesitant in working with her again when other musicians on his client list were more high profile and profitable. She had to make an impeccable impression for him to take notice.

The pressure was on and Christine couldn't afford any distractions or drama. She placed her tape and paperwork in her handbag and quickly went to check on Stevie before she left.

"Stevie, I'm going for my meeting now. I'll see you later?" She quickly popped her head into the sunroom where Stevie was lying on the couch watching television.

Stevie grunted, her eyes not leaving the screen. Christine noticed she had a greenish hue about her and beads of sweat were clinging to her forehead.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Stevie mumbled, hiding further underneath the blanket.

Christine inhaled sharply as she marched to the phone and began dialing some numbers. Of course Stevie had to play up when she had an important business appointment that required all of her attention. She worried about Stevie but her selfish side was exasperated she had to play caseworker on today of all days.

"Don't bother calling Ginny she's on vacation." Stevie said. "Go, Christine, I'm fine."

"No you're not." Christine replied crisply. "Let me call someone to come down here."

"I don't need a babysitter." Stevie insisted defiantly.

Christine ignored her and tried calling some of Stevie's more trustworthy friends. Her heart dropped at every feeble rejection and mumbling excuse; she found it bizarre how her girlfriend could be the most popular girl in town but have zero practical support when she really needed it.

"Well that worked out swimmingly," Christine noted as she slammed the phone. "Get up, Stevie, you'll have to come with me."

Stevie groaned and swatted Christine's arm away when she tried to extract her from the couch. After a brief struggle and many expletive protestations from Stevie, Christine managed to get her dressed and seated in the front seat of her car as she sped to Warner Bros.

"Did you take something after your morning dose?" Christine asked her robotically.

Stevie stubbornly faced the window but that didn't deter Christine from continuing her interrogation.

"We don't have alcohol in the house anymore so what was it? A secret stash of Xanax?"

Stevie scoffed. "I didn't take Xanax, I'm not a fucking idiot, Chris. I just don't feel well. This is unnecessary and a huge waste of my time."

"Waste of your time?" Christine exclaimed before controlling herself, she had more important things to focus on than starting an argument with Stevie. "We'll talk about it later. Just let me focus on myself and my career for the next couple of hours and we'll go back to your problems."