A reason to doubt me

"Good morning, mom." Matthew comes down stairs and to the kitchen and kisses me on the cheek. 

"Morning, sweetheart." He rolls his eyes and I smile. "My baby boy." I pinch his cheek and he does nothing but stand an take it. "How are you up so early?"

"How are you up so early?" He takes a seat at the breakfast bar. "And making breakfast too."

"Sleep wasn't agreeing with me."

"You look tired."

"Thanks!"

"You know I didn't mean it like that. Can I make you a cup of coffee?"

"Please." 

Matthew starts working on it and turns briefly to me. "So, what's up?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I got back last night, I was on my way upstairs to my room and dad was going to the guest room."

"Did he mention anything to you?"

He shakes his head and shrugs. "But he didn't really have to. You're getting ready for the tour, it explains itself." He places the coffee in front of me and sits down again. 

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"I didn't say that. It's just... Dad always gets like this around the time when you have to leave."

"He shouldn't. We've been over this too many times."

"Well..."

I know that tone of voice and I turn to face him. "What?"

"I'm not picking sides or anything, but I get where dad's coming from."

"Don't you blame this on me, please."

"Mom, I'm not." He reaches for my hand and smiles, he's a spitting image of Jeff. "Have you seen any footage from last year's Fleetwood Mac tour?"

"I was a part of it, I don't need to watch anything."

"Oh, but you do. Maybe you'll try and see what dad means."

I forget about making breakfast and take a seat next to Matthew. "I can't really recall anything I've done to make your father feel the way he does."

"You don't exactly need to do something, it's just... The way you talk, the way you are around him." Matthew is not a big fan of Lindsey and he's just fine with sticking with him. "I understand there is a lot between you two, but I think you sometimes forget about boundaries. Holding that man's hand after Landslide or giving him a hug might seem innocent, but to dad? He can't be sure of the feelings that are there, the way he sees it, some other man is holding his wife's hand, holding his wife, whispering god knows what to his wife, saying he loves his wife, no matter in what way."

"Oh god..." I cover my mouth with one hand, strongly holding onto Matthew's with the other. 

"Do you know why dad's been extra on your case this time?" I barely shake my head. "The show in Las Vegas last December. Any performance stands out in particular?"

Now it all makes sense. "Say Goodbye..." I gasp and Matthew nods.

"Mom, you couldn't sing, you couldn't stop crying, because a man you left almost fourty years ago was saying goodbye to you. Not even to you, but more to all the crap that went down between the pair of you." He looks like he has more to say, but he's thinking whether he should, I know it. I give his hand a squeeze and urge him to continue. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but not long after that show, I can't remember where you were, but I know it was just me and dad and... We talked about it, well, he talked and I listened. Not just about that one night, but years and years of what dad had to look at. Mom, he cried and you know just what a strong man dad is. He was a mess, I've never seen him like that. I can't even explain to you how sure he is you'll up and leave one day."

"What do I do?" I ask Matthew, myself and god knows who else that might hear and help me.

"I'd say you should quit the band, but I know you won't, so... You have to be honest with him."

"No, I'm not going to do that. I love being in Fleetwood Mac, I'm proud to be a part of it. I just... I have to find a way to make your father listen and hear what I'm saying."

"How many times have you tried before? And did you succeed any of those times?" He gets up and squeezes my shoulder in a supportive manner. "I didn't want to start the morning off like this, but you know... Family, it's important. I love you, mom." He adds and leaves me alone. 

My head in my hands I keep repeating everything my seventeen year old son just said to me. I know this can't go on, because it won't for too long, something will have to give. I don't want to leave my husband for the band and I don't want to leave the band for my husband. There has to be another solution. And there is. If only I could build up a wall when it comes to Lindsey...

I hear footsteps and I assume it's Matthew, but I feel an arm circle around my waist and a kiss being pressed to my hair. "Morning."

"Jeff?"

"You sure look surprised."

"Well, I am... After last night."

"About that." He puts both his hands on the top of the breakfast bar and looks at me, apologetic expression on his face. "I'm really sorry, I overreacted. I shouldn't have said those things."

"Jeff..."

"No, let me finish. It was horrible of me to say that you're an expert on using sex to solve problems and..."

"Please..."

"You were tired and I had a pretty rough day too and I should have just left you alone, we could..."

"Jeff, Lindsey kissed me..."

"Tell me you rejected him. Tell me you pushed him away. I'm begging you to tell me you didn't kiss him back."

"I did."