Storms (58 page)

Lindsey at Kingston Trio recording session.

As I sat and listened to the song I reminded Lindsey of the first time we met Stewart. Lindsey and I went shopping at a JC Penney department store, bought a short-sleeved striped shirt, penny loafers, and rolled-up jeans for Lindsey. We then gleefully walked into a Kingston Trio recording session with Lindsey looking as though he'd stepped straight off one of the Kingston Trio album
covers from the 1960s. It was a total blast and the three of us had been good friends ever since.

“September Song” and “A Satisfied Mind” were cover versions of poignant songs that were so beautiful that they made me want to cry. I threw my arms around him and told him that I loved his record—and that I was so happy that he'd made me a part of it. Within a few years, however, we'd both look back in disbelief as we realized that the song we recorded together for
Law and Order
was a premonition of the end of our relationship.

Law and Order
was released in November, going to number thirty-two on the U.S. charts. The first single, “Trouble”, hit number nine and, to my amazement, “It Was I” went to number two on the British charts. In the early fall we starred in a video together for “It Was I” and my contribution to the world as a “musician” was officially signed, sealed, and delivered.

While I now understood the thrill of actually recording a song and hearing it played over the radio, I knew that I never wanted to do it again. I was more than content to sit on the couch in the recording studio instead of behind a microphone. Even if I had the talent—which I didn't—I would never want to be a musician. After living among the members of Fleetwood Mac, I knew only too well how tortured a musician's life could be. And I couldn't imagine anyone with a shred of sanity who'd want to become one.

As hot Santa Ana winds howled outside the doors of the huge SIR soundstage, the gala release party for the
Mirage
album raged inside. While songs from the band's new album blasted at earsplitting volume, two hundred music industry invitees drank champagne and glad-handed one another under flashing red and blue lights. As usual, the band and the inner circle were all gathered in close proximity to one another, almost as though there was an invisible rope separating us from the well-heeled guests who had come to party at Fleetwood Mac's celebration bash for the release of
Mirage.

Miraculously, everyone behind our “invisible rope” seemed to be having a great time. Standing next to Sara, I watched a grinning and obviously thrilled Lindsey shouting into the ear of his Beach Boy hero Brian Wilson. Walking over to where they were standing, I got a shy smile from Brian as a reward.

Pulling me close, Lindsey closed his eyes as the opening chords of “Oh Diane” echoed around us. It sounded like a heartthrob hit from the 1950s—like a song James Dean would have loved. “I picture you wearing a gold lamé suit every time I hear this, Lindsey! Maybe that's what you should wear on the road for the tour!” I shouted into his ear, doing my best to sound earnest.

“Fuck that. Elvis had the corner on the gold lamé suits, Carol. You'll have to think of something a lot simpler for me to wear this time around. I don't give a shit about road wardrobe. I don't want to even have to think about my clothes on stage. I just want to be comfortable. I mean, who cares? Let Stevie have the glamour this time around. I don't need it.”

Drawn by the sound of her name, Stevie materialized beside us, holding on to Jimmy Iovine's hand. It had been almost a year since I'd seen Stevie. The last time was the summer before at Le Château. It'd taken a full year for Richard and Lindsey to finish the mixes, overdubs, and then more remixes for the band's new album. It was August 1982 now, and I couldn't believe that time had gone by so quickly. Like the rest of the band, Stevie had been busy. Her solo record
Bella Donna
was released in July ‘81 and with three hit singles that had reached
Billboard
's top ten, she and Jimmy Iovine had every reason to look happy.

Throwing her arms around me, Stevie asked if I was having a good time. Blinking in surprise at her unexpected show of affection, I smiled and nodded while hugging her back. “Hey! Congratulations on your album, Stevie. It's doing really well. I'm happy for you!” I yelled over the music. As she told me thanks, she looked expectantly at Lindsey, who was staring at her through narrowed eyes. With a groan, I poked him sharply in the ribs with my elbow as he rolled his eyes at me.

“Yeah, right. Congrats, Stevie. I really like your single ‘Stop Draggin' My Heart Around'”, he said with a straight face. And I almost died. Ever since the release of Stevie's song, which was a duet on
Bella Donna
with Tom Petty, Lindsey had sneeringly referred to it as “Stop Draggin' My Career Around.” It'd become a catchphrase between Richard and Lindsey, and while it was funny, I didn't think Stevie would appreciate it if she knew. But thankfully, Stevie took his compliment at face value and I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been such a great night so far that the last thing I wanted was for another band fight to break out in front of the movers and shakers of the music industry.

To my shock, Lindsey suddenly announced to Stevie and the rest of the band who had migrated toward us that he wanted everyone to come up to our house in Bel-Air as soon as the
Mirage
party wrapped up. I couldn't believe my ears! Lindsey had zealously protected his privacy at our home and, aside from Richard and Mick Fleetwood, absolutely none of the band members had set foot in our house, even though we'd been living there for over a year and a half.

It had been a difficult and lonely year and a half for me. Other than visits to Sara and Julie a few times each month, I'd been pretty much on my own for most of it, filling my days with shopping and reading while
trying to keep my panic attacks at bay. Lately I'd been feeling much better—Lindsey had been happier as the work on
Mirage
neared its end and that, of course, had made life at home much more peaceful.

So I was thrilled when I heard his unexpected invitation to our friends. About to rush to Sara's side, I stopped dead in my tracks as I heard Stevie say, “Can I ride with you?” Startled, I looked quickly around me, so sure was I that she must be speaking to someone other than me. But she wasn't. She was standing expectantly in front of me waiting for my answer.

“You want to ride with me?” I asked incredulously.

With a laugh Stevie grabbed my arm and told me that she did. “Let Lindsey and Jimmy ride together. I haven't seen you in ages, Carol, and I'm dying to see your house. So let's get out of here, OK? Everyone else can follow us up when they're ready.”

What the … ?
I thought incredulously as I stood staring at her.
I don't think Stevie and I have ever been in a car alone together! Actually, I don't think we've ever been alone with each other for more than a few minutes. How weird is that?
After hesitating for a few seconds I chided myself for being nervous. With a mental shrug, I reminded myself that things were different now.
Stevie's in love with Jimmy and she's happy. It's time that she and I got to know each other better.

After leaving a speechless Lindsey and Jimmy behind, Stevie and I climbed into my BMW and headed toward Bel-Air. I rolled down the window, letting the desert winds blow our blonde hair into tangled snarls. Stevie turned on the radio and with rock music blaring we sped down Sunset Boulevard, laughing and talking about the party we'd just left. Stevie asked me to pull over on a side street as she dug around in her purse. Triumphantly, she held up a bottle of blow and handed it to me. As we both dumped some onto the back of our wrists, she told me that it was the first hit she'd had all night.

With a sigh she told me Jimmy didn't really like cocaine, so she tried not to do it front of him. It drove her crazy in a way, she said. She wasn't used to being told what she could and couldn't do, but at the same time she wanted to please him. She looked at me earnestly and announced, “He's a lot like Lindsey!” And I started to laugh.

“I know exactly what you mean”, I said. “I've learned over the years that anything and everything I do is watched—and if he's in a mood to
disapprove of something then I find out quickly, believe me. It doesn't matter if he does the same thing himself the very next day. Sometimes, I feel as though I need to ask permission for every move I make.”

With a knowing smile she told me that it didn't sound like he'd changed a lot since they were together. “Don't you get tired of it?” she asked.

“Yep. But I love him, Stevie. It's hard sometimes, but we make it through, you know?” Unwilling to tell her
how
hard it could get, I changed the subject. “Stevie, thank you so much for your beautiful flowers. It made me really happy to get them. You know that I care about you a great deal, don't you?”

With a smile, Stevie answered, “I care about you too, Carol. I know it's been hard on both of us. But I hope that we can put all of that behind us. We're sisters. All of my girlfriends and I are ‘sisters of the moon.' I've given every woman I love a little half moon necklace to wear—just like the one I'm wearing now! I'd give you one too, but it would drive Lindsey crazy and God knows you don't need that!”

“Thanks for the thought, Stevie. It means a lot to me!” I said as I reached over and gave her a hug. “How's Robin doing? Is she feeling any better at all?”

With a sigh, Stevie shook her head no. Robin shocked all of us almost two years before. She was deliriously happy being newly married to the love of her life, Kim Anderson, when she began to have a series of unexplained sore throats and fever. Concerned, but not worried, she'd gone to her doctor for a physical and had been given the worst news imaginable. She had leukemia. The diagnosis stunned all of us who loved her and completely devastated Stevie, her best friend.

“You know she's pregnant, don't you, Carol?” Stevie asked in a small voice. I nodded and sat quietly, aware that Stevie was struggling to keep her composure. In that moment, I would have given anything to help her deal with the pain of Robin's tragedy. Five months earlier, Sara told me of Robin's unexpected pregnancy. Against her doctor's wishes, she'd refused to terminate her pregnancy—a move that would have prolonged her life—and insisted on carrying her baby to term. Stevie's grief seemed to fill the car as she sat deathly still.

“She's so brave, Carol. I can't believe how brave she is! Having this baby has cut her life short by at least a year, but she's so selfless—she's a saint.
Robin's in the City of Hope Cancer Center and so far the pregnancy is going as well as can be expected. But you wouldn't recognize her if you saw her. The treatment is so harsh and she's so thin. I miss her all the time and I don't understand why this has happened to her.”

As Stevie began to cry silent tears I reached over and took her into my arms. Soon we were both crying and as I tried to whisper soothing words to calm her, I knew that there was little I could do or say to ease her pain. There were no words that could make either of us feel better. As sad as I was over Robin, I couldn't even begin to imagine the grief that Stevie must have been feeling. How horrific it must be to watch a woman you loved like a sister dying of leukemia and know that there's nothing you can do for her. I'd only known Robin for six years and I both loved and respected her. Everyone did. But we all knew that whatever pain we were feeling over her tragedy paled in comparison to Stevie's. Wiping away her tears, she gave me a shaky smile and told me that she was OK for the time being. With a last hug I pulled back into traffic and headed up to Bel-Air.

Even though Stevie and I took our time going home, we were still the first to arrive. I showed her around the house and she freaked when she saw the rain room. She absolutely loved it. We turned the rain on, ran around lighting candles, and finished up just as the first cars began to pull through the gates to our estate. Standing on both sides of the large copper front doors, Stevie and I greeted our fellow Fleetwood Mac family members as they entered. Everyone looked shocked and bewildered that Stevie and I were so obviously having a great time together. Lindsey stopped dead in his tracks and stared as though he were having a hallucination. With a confused smile and a shrug, he told Mick that he felt like he was on acid as he looked at the two of us standing with our arms around each other.

“Well, Lindsey, you better get used to it. Carol and I have decided to hang out together every day. Wouldn't you like that?” Stevie said in a teasing voice. Making the sign of the cross, Lindsey backed away, dragging Mick with him. Soon our home was full of people and music started echoing over the built-in speakers that were hidden in the walls throughout the house. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Lindsey was playing the live bootleg albums that I'd released before we met. Live music of the Stones and Beatles filled the rooms and everyone was complimenting me on what they were hearing.

Speechless at first, I soon found myself holding an audience as I explained the ins and out of the “live” bootleg record business in the early 1970s. It wasn't illegal, I explained. There were no laws covering “sound waves” recorded at a concert before 1976. I felt a sense of pride that I hadn't felt in a long time. The recordings were really good—and rare. And it'd been a long time since I'd been able to take credit for something I had achieved in the music business. My modeling was different. I was proud of my portfolio and the work that I'd done as a model. But to me, sitting in front of a camera had been a very passive achievement. My record business, on the other hand, gave me the opportunity to create something tangible—a product that gave people all over the world a lot of pleasure.