Storms (7 page)

“Welcome, m'dear!” J.C. proclaimed as he pulled out a chair for me.

“Need a drink?”

“No, thanks.” I murmured, looking shyly at Julie, and the rest of the Mac.

“Everyone, dinner is ready. Where's Stevie?” J.C. innocently asked. A fresh round of laughter broke out among the seated group and a small frown crossed his face. “What happened?”

“Nothing, J.C.”, Stevie declared loudly as she came storming out from behind the drum riser. Holding her head high, she glared at Lindsey and me as she swept past regally with an entourage of three girlfriends in tow. All of them took turns shooting daggers at me as they passed me by.
So much for making friends tonight
, I thought.

“She's had a rough night, don't mind her”, Lindsey murmured with a smirk on his face. I nodded quickly in response and followed him to the buffet.

After everyone had eaten, Lindsey walked me over to Julie Ruebens and pulled out the chair next to her. “Julie will watch over you while we rehearse, won't you, Julie?”

With a bright smile, Julie nodded as Lindsey kissed me quickly and then headed toward his guitar stands. I smiled at Julie, noticing once again how pretty she was with her brown hair falling in waves to her shoulders. The kindness that I had noticed about her at the band's celebration dinner was shining from her eyes.

All of the band were congregating on “stage” and after ten minutes of warming up, they launched into “You Make Lovin' Fun”, and then continued playing their new songs from
Rumours.
To my ears, it sounded great, although it was obvious that in some of the songs, the band was struggling to get in sync with each other.

But there was magic there.

I could feel it as it echoed throughout the large, oppressive soundstage. Lindsey, seemingly content to stand at the back of the stage, was focusing on his intricate guitar licks as he watched John and Mick out of the corner of his eye. On the other side of the stage, John McVie stood in yet another garish Hawaiian shirt. Solid, loud, in the tradition of most bass players, he was an anchor to Mick Fleetwood's clowning behind the drums. Christine was pounding on her keyboards with a wry smile on her face in between her vocals, making it apparent to everyone that she was having a blast.

I watched Stevie sing and realized again just how beautiful she was. As the band started into “Rhiannon”, she took on a bewitching, hex-like quality as she spun in front of the microphone. Wearing a long black skirt that shimmered as she moved, with a simple top and a silk scarf around her neck, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Watching her, I realized that she was a combination of little girl and erotic fantasy. With a smoky voice and an aura of mysticism that promised great pleasures and even greater dangers, she was a force to be reckoned with.

I knew then and there that she was going to be one hell of a match for me. As I slumped down into my chair, I told myself that even though I would never, ever have her musical ability, I'd do everything within my power to match her in other areas—even if it killed me.

I know that this sounds overly dramatic, but when you're twenty-two years old and your new boyfriend's ex-lover is a rock goddess, you tend to take things very seriously.

I sighed and looked over at Julie. As though she could read my mind, Julie smiled at me sympathetically and grabbed my hand. “Come on. I have something you might like. Let's go to the bathroom”, she whispered.

We stood up, passing the row of chairs occupied by Stevie's girlfriends. I hadn't been introduced to them, but as far as I could tell, they looked as though they'd all been dressed from Stevie's closet. Long skirts, velvet scarves, and varying shades of blonde hair marked them as Stevie's girls. I would soon discover that Stevie never went anywhere without her entourage of “girl fans.”

Walking by Julie's side dressed in my black knee-length cocktail dress, I heard their whispers following us down the aisle. With a dismissive sniff, Julie said quietly, “Don't mind them. They're Stevie's little replicas. You'll get used to it. Believe me, I have.” I looked at her gratefully and started to relax.

Crossing the huge soundstage, we entered a large dingy tiled bathroom. To my surprise, but apparently not Julie's, Curry Grant, the band's lighting director, was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “Hello ladies. I wondered how long it would take for you to get in here.”

Julie laughed as she walked quickly toward him. “How nice that you just ‘happened' to be here, Curry. I was just about to offer Carol Ann a little bit of a pick-me-up. Would you care to join us?”

With a bright smile he nodded his head and watched as Julie pulled a small bottle out of her pocket, unscrewed the top, and poured some of the powder out onto her wrist and inhaled it. A look of utter satisfaction crossed her face and she motioned for me to come to her.

“Julie”, I stammered, “I don't know if I should. I've never had any …”

Curry laughed as he put his arm around me. “Hey, little girl. We're here to corrupt you. Come on, now, give it a go.”

Julie shot a warning glance toward him, saying, “Curry, if you know what's good for you, you'll get your hands off of her. Lindsey wouldn't be pleased.”

He dropped his hand from my shoulder as though I were on fire.

Julie turned to me. “You've got to try blow sooner or later, Carol. All of us do it. It's no big deal. It'll make you feel great, I promise!”

Not wanting to look stupid in front of my new friends, I eyed the bottle warily and then shrugged my shoulders. “Sure. OK. Uh, how do I do it?”

“Just inhale. That's it. The blow will do the rest.”

So I did just that. And I waited for something to happen. Nothing did. I didn't feel any different. With Julie and Curry watching me expectantly, I smiled and said, “Hey, great. Thanks.” They seemed to be satisfied with my response and started talking and giggling as they poured more out onto their wrists and inhaled again. They dumped another pile on my wrist and I sniffed it again. Nope. I didn't feel any different.

Julie looked at me searchingly, apparently no longer fooled by the smile I kept plastered on my face. “Carol, it's no big deal if you don't feel anything the first time. That happens a lot. We'll do some more later. You're gonna love it, I promise.”

Yeah, right
, I thought to myself.

Hearing a break in the music, Julie and I looked guiltily at each other. We were supposed to be watching! We rushed out the door and headed back to our seats. Lindsey wasn't anywhere in sight, but Stevie was. She was waiting for me. Standing next to the chair that I'd been sitting in. With a feeling of trepidation, I sat down.

“Carol, I just wanted to tell you something. I don't know if you're aware of this, but you and I have the same birthday, May 26”, Stevie said as she sank down into the chair next to mine.

“Gee, Stevie. That's weird”, I answered hesitantly.

“Do you wear black clothes a lot?” she asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes, I do. Blondes look good in black, I think.” I tried to keep the bewilderment out of my voice as I spoke to her. Where in the hell was this going?

“Don't you see?” She beamed. “That explains everything! Black has always been my color and we were born on the same day! You know, Carol, you must be so much like me that it's beyond coincidence. It's almost mystical.” She was smiling now in triumph. “No wonder Lindsey would go for you!”

Sitting in stunned silence, I didn't know if I should laugh or scream. Looking at Stevie's deadly serious face, I realized with a sinking feeling that I was embarking on my first real conversation with her and I felt as though I were entering the Twilight Zone.

Why does it have to be so weird?
I thought miserably to myself.
Is she seeing how far she can push me? For cripes sake, does she really believe that Lindsey's with me because my horoscope is the same as hers?

“Well, gee, Stevie, I think it's really cool that we have the same birthday. Really. Did you know that John Wayne was born on May 26, too?”

Stevie's eyes began to narrow as I continued. “Anyway, the black clothes thing is just, well, blondes look great in black! I wear a lot of white and turquoise as well. Lindsey's seen me in a lot of different colors. Trust me, Stevie, it's not my birthday or the color of my clothes that attracts Lindsey. You'll just have to take my word for it.”

Seeing Stevie's now-red face and narrowed eyes, it was obvious that I hadn't given her the response she expected. If it were possible to cast a bad spell over another person, she was giving it her all. I could feel her anger washing over me in waves. With a toss of her hair and a last furious glare, she growled, “I see. Well, I just wanted to tell you. I thought you'd like to know, that's all.”

With that, she rose quickly to her feet, almost knocking the chair over in her haste. Making a beeline for her girlfriends, she whispered something to them and they all turned and stared at me. Once again, I slumped down into my chair and watched as they walked out of the circle of light and into the shadows at the back of the soundstage.

That went well. Now she really hates me
, I thought wearily as I chewed my fingernail. Suddenly, I felt a wave of exhaustion and leaned my head against the back of the metal chair, closing my eyes. My mind was reeling. I wanted to go home. Back to a world where reality ruled instead of astrology and mystic signs and, by the look on Stevie's face, black spells.

As though reading my thoughts, Lindsey appeared by my side and slid into the chair where Stevie had been sitting moments before. “Let's get outta here, angel. Want to go home?” Lindsey asked as he reached for my hand. I nodded my head and he pulled me to my feet. “I have plans for you tonight, darlin'. Hope you're not too tired!” My spirits lifted as I looked into his blue eyes and we walked arm in arm out of the soundstage into the cold night.

As soon as I closed the door of my apartment, Lindsey pulled me into the bedroom and broke the strap of my dress as he pulled it off. I laughed
and kicked it to a corner of the room. After Stevie's remarks, I never wanted to wear it (or black) again.

As the deluge of winter storms continued to besiege L.A., Fleetwood Mac was cut off from the rain and wind howling outside the soundstage, the members gathering each night in the warmth of the spotlights. Days swept by and each night the band became tighter. Gone were the hesitant vocals and jagged harmonies. Lindsey's playing and singing was hard and assertive. John's bass was a solid, thundering backdrop to Mick's pounding drums.

Stevie, now dressed each night in her black chiffon stage skirt and five-inch platform boots, with tambourine in hand, was mesmerizing at center stage. Her throaty vocals sent chills down the spines of the handful of us privileged to be sitting in the audience. The backdrop of a withered tree and Gothic moon against a black background looked not only like an illustration from a Brothers Grimm fairy tale, but also a window into the forest in which Rhiannon lived. Richard Dashut and Ken Caillet were sound-engineering magicians at the mixing board set up behind us at the very edge of the circle of light in the soundstage.

Lindsey's ideas for the set list for the
Rumours
tour.

All that was left to do was to finalize the set. A band's set is critical: the order and choice of songs in a concert should flow and keep the audience enthralled. After trying out endless variations, which provoked more than a few fights among the members, Fleetwood Mac finally hit on a set order that was a masterpiece of musicianship. Today I have absolutely no doubt that anyone who was lucky enough to see the shows of the 1977-78
Rumours
tour will agree with me.

By the end of rehearsals Stevie and I had settled into an uneasy truce. Even though I could feel her resentment like a dark mist washing over me each time I was near her, I kept a smile on my face and tried to never let her see how much I was bothered by it. What I truly hoped was that one day Stevie and I would be friends. But if that day never came, then so be it. I knew that I would rise above everything she might try to throw at me to break up my relationship with Lindsey. I had to. I had made a vow.