Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham were headed towards a bight romantic future together as the On With The Road Tour came to a close at the end of 2015, and Lindsey was even looking to leave his wife at last! But some years later, a mishap and a fl...
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***I just wanted to acknowledge that I am writing this chapter on May 26, 2022...Stevie's 74th birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEPHANIE LYNN NICKS!!!!!!!!!!<3
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
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Christopher Nicks had always had a complicated relationship with his sister.
As he rounded the hallway of the ICU at the hospital on Sunday morning, following the red arrows on the floor he'd been told to follow by a nurse who looked a lot like his daughter Jessi, his mind was wandering to the various memories he had of his sister that probably didn't mean a thing to anyone else - maybe not even to Stevie - but had lived in his head all sixty-three years of his life. His earliest memory, in fact, was of Stevie - He was two years old, which meant Stevie was seven, and he was wearing a blue pajamas with feet and was like a slick, easy-to-manage doll for her as she'd held him in his lap and attempted to make a slide like the ones in the playground out of every cushion on the couch. She'd positioned them just right, looking all around to see if their mother was anywhere around, and satisfied that they were alone, Stevie had grabbed him hard at the waist and said, "Like the park, Christopher, come on!" And down the makeshift cushion slide they'd gone, and he was having a ball - until he slipped forwards out of her arms and cracked his forehead right onto the corner of the coffee table.
"Jeez Louise, Stephanie! What is the meaning of this?" Barbara wore a bright red dress and was holding her hands up in anxiety and frustration, then running to her toddler son who was crying on the living room rug, holding his head above an already-forming lump.
"I sorry, Teedee..." Christopher was wailing and looking up at Stevie, who sat petrified on the mountain of disheveled couch cushions, frozen in fear and anticipating her punishment.
Barbara held him in the air and examined his head, rubbing it gently. She said, "What are YOU apologizing to HER for, Christopher? You're the one who got a boo-boo, right?" She kissed the lump on his head and then turned to her daughter. "He's not a TOY, Stephanie! He's a real boy!"
"I the boy!" he echoed, still crying in his mother's arms, and even at two years old, he remembered locking eyes with his sister, knowing that whenever she said jump, he'd ask how high. He just had no idea that day, at two years old, just how much jumping it would take to be her brother for the next sixty-odd years.
Christopher saw a mess of long, curly white hair as he turned the corner, and he knew he was looking at Waddy Wachtel. Waddy wore a leather jacket over a Grateful Dead t-shirt and a tired expression, and he greeted Christopher with a hug.
"We couldn't have made it back to L.A. and thank God we didn't," Waddy began to explain, sounding to Christopher like he was already in the middle of the story. They had spoke briefly over the phone the previous afternoon, and Christopher was already Googling flights from Phoenix to Philadelphia on his MacBook, which he'd been using to take care of a few bills and other budgeting things, when he'd seen Waddy's number appear on his ringing phone and known that meant something had to be very wrong.
