Karen tries to talk to me while we fight our way through Santa Monica traffic, but I'm not even pretending to listen to her. She says she's worried. I promise her I'm more worried then she is, and stare idly at the stopped vehicles that are slowing down my escape. I don't even know what I'll do when I get home, really. I just know that I don't want to talk to anyone except Lindsey. I'm not very good at hiding my emotions and trying not to fall apart was exhausting.
She finally drops me off and I don't let her in with me, shutting the door and scooping my anxious dog up. "I know, mommy left you for too long," I say in a high pitched voice. I've always talked to her the way people talk to their children. I think it soothes me more than it soothes her, but I don't really care.
I'm one of the most impatient people on the planet. I don't like to wait for anything. A week ago I was enjoying downtime in one of my favorite cities. Now I'm pacing my house like a caged animal, hoping he doesn't die. Because what would I do then?
I have no idea, but I know that I don't want to find out.
Sleep wasn't going to be an option, so I folded my legs up under me on the bed and started skimming through old notebooks. Maybe some words would come to me and at least I could distract myself by writing. Process some of the overwhelming emotions that seemed to be crawling under my skin. I scrawl some words across the lined pages but none of it matters. Being away from him right now is harder than I thought.
The bell rings and I look out the window cautiously, not expecting anyone. A man with long hair and a beard is standing outside the door, and I can't help but smile a little.
"Dave Grohl," I say, opening the door for him. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"I called to talk to you about a project and Karen told me about Lindsey," he explains. "I'm really sorry." He offers me a fantastic bottle of wine and I throw my arms around him, surprised at how grateful I am for the distraction.
Dave is a positive force in this world. You can't help but feel better about anything that might be going on when he's with you, and tonight, he is exactly what I need. There are no projects being discussed. Some talking. He lets me sing harmony on his new songs. I start to play something that I've never played before, the words being ripped from my soul. He writes them down, realizing that I'd probably want it captured.
When I'm done, he hands me a slip of paper. "I think I got all of that," he says.
I just smile and take it from him, reading it over, digesting the words that had just escaped me. He lets the silence settle around us for a second before he speaks again.
"Stevie, you don't want to be sitting here by yourself. You want to be with him." I nod, reluctantly accepting his statement of fact. He hugs me, crushing my body against his.
"This is so scary, Dave," I say, my words muffled by his shoulder.
"Hell yeah, it is." He doesn't try to diminish anything that's happening, and for that I am grateful. He kisses the top of my head, and I pull back, fighting back tears. "Come on, I'll take you over there."
Before I know it I'm being escorted back to Lindsey's room again. He looks the same. "How long will they leave him like this?" I ask, knowing they won't have an answer. It's a silly question.
"We can't say," she says. "He's been remarkably stable, though," she says, trying to be encouraging.
I nod, and she leaves me alone with him. I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle his tubes and IVs. His face is full of stubble, his hair wild. He looks old, his cheeks sunken. I realize that it's been days since I've seen those blue eyes, and I'd give anything for him to open them.
"You can wake up any time, Linds," I say, tracing his skin with my fingers. "I need to tell your kids that you're okay." Of course, nothing happens. I let out a sigh, realizing that on some silly, naïve level, I'd expected him to respond. Maybe I'd at least be able to nap with him next to me. The chair was horribly uncomfortable, but I pulled a cashmere throw out of my bag and settled into it, leaning against the side of the bed. Eventually I drifted off, lulled to sleep by the steady hum of the machines.
It felt like seconds later that I was roused by a choking sound. I hit the big red button instantly, then jumped up, watching Lindsey start to flail a little as I stepped into the hallway, yelling for anyone who would listen.
