"Are you ready Dove?" Dad asks coming around the corner of our hotel suite. He's dressed in a black leather jacket with a white teeshirt and his trademark skinny jeans and Chelsea boots. His sunglasses are over his eyes and his guitar case is slung over his shoulder.

Looking at it I laugh remembering the time when I was like three or four and they were touring. They left me at the Forum, in Los Angeles because they were performing at home and they didn't have to pack up their stuff. I fell asleep in it and nobody realized it. I was woken up by a security guard shining a light in my face and I started to bawl. The man made some calls and I sat with him for about fifteen minutes when Aunt Lori, still in her stage clothes and Uncle Chris came sprinting down the hall. I don't even want to know why they were still there, but Aunt Lori rocked me for about forty-five minutes when my parents came barreling down the corridor. My dad was faster than my mom and he took me from Aunt Lori and just held me to him the tightest I ever remember him holding me kissing me repeatedly and apologizing. My mother was an absolute mess claiming she thought I was with Karen.

We meet my brother a few doors down and in the lobby, we meet up with my band. Weston Carlyle the second lead singer of Mickinley dreams and the lead guitarist. Brenna Jacques, the piano player, and third lead singer. Jack Jacques, Brenna's ex-husband and the bassist, and finally Griffin Mickinley, the drummer. Every inch of us screams Fleetwood Mac as Weston and I had dated, but we try not to let that determine who we are because we aren't Fleetwood Mac and in a lot of ways we are far more complicated. Tonight we're doing a tribute to my mom and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame tribute dinner. It's basically a dinner the night before the induction where the inductees are honored by other famous people doing tributes to them and just celebrating before the speeches and the performances come tomorrow night. My dad is joining Mikinley Dreams tonight solely for a few songs. We have four in total so we're going to do two Fleetwood Mac songs, Landslide and Rhiannon, but then Daddy and I are doing Rooms on Fire and Talk to Me. Josh and his band are doing Wild Heart, Rock a Little, You Can't Fix This, and Has anyone written anything for you.

We haven't seen mom since she was home when dad had his surgery, but we know she's probably so exhausted. She had a concert last night in New York and here we are in New Jersey. Carson said that they got here about four in the morning and she's probably been getting ready for a good four hours now. We make our way to the cars waiting for us and head to the little performance hall.

We're spread through three tables. But Dad and I are actually sitting with mom and the rest of Fleetwood Mac and it's awkward. Josh is right behind me and since we were there first, as soon as Mick Fleetwood sat down I whipped right around and grab my brother's arm.

"Shit..." Josh whispers looking at me.

"I know," I reply.

Dad takes in a shaky breath and I turn to see his replacements sitting right across from him, and my mom sitting right next to my dad. With a shy hand, my mom grabs his shoulder and pulls him into her. They share a kiss and she wraps his arm around her and she nuzzles into his shoulder. It's a sweet sentiment but you can clearly cut the tension like a knife.

My mother looks absolutely gorgeous though in her red chiffon dress and black boots. With her hair pulled half up half down. No one will ever see her like this, it's a style specifically for special occasions and this event isn't broadcasted or photograph. No one knows about it unless you're asked to perform.

We get through the night and up on stage, drenched in sweat wearing a black pencil skirt, my black boots, and a black chiffon top a big smile comes across my face when I hear Weston say,

"It is our pleasure, to welcome to the stage, a special member of the Mikinley dreams family, In his first performance after having open-heart surgery, Mr. Lindsey Buckingham."

He comes out strumming the first licks of Talk to Me and I feel complete. I dance with him and as the two songs end he wraps his arms around me and kisses my head like he's done with my mother a million times and I stare at her and she has tears in her eyes. She didn't know dad was playing, she thought he was coming solely for the support. When we get off stage, my mom hugs all of us but when she gets to my dad she lets out a sob and squeezes him tightly. Looking at Mick Fleetwood he looks down at the table kind of like he made a huge mistake agreeing to let my dad go. Mike and Neil just stare at him in shock.

***

The next night, as we sit and watch my mom talk and leave her heart out on the stage the amount of gratitude that glows off of my father, is tenfold. Sitting in their hotel suite afterward my father wrapped around her on the couch she looks at all of us. All four of her kids, her two daughters-in-law, and her two sons-in-law, she pulls my dad's arms tighter around her and looks up at him.

"Thank You, Lindsey. I wouldn't be here right now, in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice, the first woman to be inducted as a Solo Artist and in a band, is all because of you. You wouldn't join Fleetwood Mac without me, you are the person that made it possible for me to do a solo career because you sacrificed everything and you raised our babies while I went out and did my thing and I am forever grateful for you. I love you Lindsey so much." My mom tells my dad.

"I love you too Angel." My dad smiles kissing her passionately on the lips.