in the arms of a storm

two

Stevie watches the California coastline pass by the open window, trying to breathe in the sea air that was always such a balm to her soul. Her fingers are clenched tight, almost crumpling the sheet of notebook paper in her grip. She looks down at her hand and forces herself to relax as the lyrics on the page stare back at her accusingly. The car seems to be moving impossibly slowly, and she doesn't know if she wants it to speed up or stop altogether. Honestly, she has half a mind to tell the driver to turn around and just take her home. She's about to see Lindsey for the first time in more than a year, and though she had been filled with confidence when she had decided to call him a few days ago, anxiety had taken its place, leaving her feeling more unsure and vulnerable than she'd have liked.

Truth be told, Stevie hadn't been prepared to hear his voice the other night. She had thought she was, but as always, the second that rich baritone had sounded in her ear, she had felt the swoop of butterflies fluttering unrelentingly through her stomach. Her heart doesn't know how to not love him, despite the distance she's kept after the last time they'd fought, fight number one million fifty three thousand in the last few decades. And although that same heart knows that there is nobody in the world she needs right now as much as she needs him, her brain is fighting awfully hard against the concept.

Stevie risks a glance out the window, her pulse coming quicker as she takes in the house on the hill rising in front of her. She hasn't been here in almost ten years, and the memories of those visits are admittedly scant. Although the few awkward sessions she'd actually attended while Fleetwood Mac recorded Tango in the Night were just on the border of contentious, she doesn't blame Lindsey—now looking back on it—for the stilted, awkward way he'd treated her then. She'd entered the house for the first time, and she hadn't been able to handle it, her interactions with both Lindsey and his little girlfriend just on this side of hostile. Stevie herself had still been a mess, despite having graduated from rehab for cocaine, and the gift of time has made her much more open to admitting that she had been in absolutely no shape to be around people, let alone recording music. The fact that she's present on that album at all is a testament to her ex's talent, not to mention his patience. And, her brain adds annoyingly, his love for her.

She floats along behind her driver when he opens the car door and guides her to the entrance of Lindsey's house before leaving her there to gather up her courage. She watches the car slowly pull down the driveway and pushes away the fantasy she has of flying down the pavement screaming after him, leaving before Lindsey even knows she was there. Finally mustering up enough courage, she raps her knuckles against the door before she can change her mind for the millionth time, and tries to paste a casual, easygoing smile on her face. It's just another recording session, she tells herself. You've recorded with this man only about a million times over the years, get a grip.

The door swings open and the face that greets her takes her breath away. He looks so good. Have his cheekbones always been this chiseled, or is her memory faulty? And his hair. Oh, she just wants to run her fingers through the tousled curls. She looks down self consciously, smoothing down her dress and trying to hold on to the feelings of confidence she's gained since losing about 50 pounds after rehab.

"Stevie," Lindsey says her name on an exhale, looking at her with that familiar adoring wonder, like she's hung the moon and stars, and her breath leaves her in a whoosh as her heart slams against her ribcage without warning. She's in trouble.

"Hi Lindsey." She keeps her voice light and breezy, trying desperately to act like this is just any other day at the studio. Like they'd done for years. "You look-" She wants to say amazing, but she breaks off, trying not to show all her cards at once. "You look good."

Lindsey shakes his head, a smile parting his lips despite his obvious effort to play it cool. "You-" He looks her up and down, and she feels herself flush at his conspicuous attempt to check her out. He was never good at being subtle. "You look so gorgeous, Stevie. Healthy. Perfect."