Chapter 77

When Richie arrived in the studio ahead of the other band members it wasn’t to find Jon geared up for work on the next segment of the record.  His front man and friend was in a foul mood, unshaven and generally looking like shit. 

“I guess I don’t need to ask how the vacation went, huh?”

“Vacation was perfect,” Jon grunted back.  “But the bottom fell out before the wheels pulled up on the flight home.  That’s when my girl let me in on the little tidbit that she didn’t NEED birth control and hadn’t been using any since long before I met her.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open and he had to make a conscious choice to close it.  “Fuuuucccckkkk.  Is she pregnant?”

“Nah.  She had to take fertility drugs to get pregnant.  She says she doesn’t want to put that stuff in her body when she knows she doesn’t need it and wants ME...” Jon stabbed himself in the chest to make his point. “...to get a vasectomy or – get this – use rubbers if I have an issue with it.  I told her that wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’ in this lifetime.”

“And?”

“She didn’t answer when I called from D.C..  Then when I got home she was all pissy, so she invented a business trip to get away from me.” The frontman rubbed his stubbly jaw and blew out a heavy sigh.  “If all that wasn’t enough, she’s taken a little road trip through the South to avoid coming home to me.” 

Rachel had called a couple of days ago to inform him that, while she was finished with her business in Charleston, she was going to take advantage of the close proximity to Savannah, Georgia and wasn’t sure when, exactly, she’d be home. 

At the time, he’d said nothing other than to wish her a safe trip.  What could he say?  They were at serious odds with each other, and she didn’t seem to have much interest in sticking around long enough to work through any of it. 

Jon lifted up his finger to alert Richie he wasn’t finished with his story. 

“And there’s more, my friend.  The kicker is, since I told her we weren’t having sex without birth control, she’s decided to put me up against a wall and hold out on me.  Told me I was welcome to sleep at my own house if I preferred.  So, on top of all the fighting, we haven’t had sex in weeks.  Oh yeah, it’s been fuckin' BLISS around here!”

“Weeks???  That explains your fine temperament.  A couple days has you bitchin’.  When’s she comin’ home, man?”

Jon fluttered his hands through the air in a deliberate, dramatic attempt to reflect Rachel’s vague plans to come home.   “When the spirit moves her, I guess.  Stubborn little minx.” 

“You’ve got the female version of YOU.  Welcome to MY world, man.  I love you like a brother, but you’re a pain in the ass and stubborn as the day is long.  You just may have met your match with your little blonde neighbor.”

“She makes me crazy, but, at the same time I know she’s the one.  Can’t explain it, I just know it.   I just don’t think she’s as convinced.   Any other woman would fall at my feet, but not the woman I want – oh no!  I have to fall for the woman who is determined to put me through the paces.”  Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted as he let his head fall back.  “And I’m not even gettin’ laid for the trouble!”

“Gotta ask... WHY would you put the ixnay on sex?  If she doesn’t need birth control, she doesn’t need it.  Why walk around with your dick in your own hand when you could have it in hers?  I don’t get it.”

Richie Sambora had a unique way of putting things.  Some people might be shocked by the way he talked, but to Jon, it was second nature.  

“At the time it seemed like a good idea.  I mean – I know we’re too old to share the dirty details – but I swear that girl can bark and I’ve got a hard on!  We’re having sex all over the place – without birth control!  How would YOU react?”

“I dunno, man.  I’d probably figure she knew more about her own body than I did.”

Jon couldn’t do anything but shake his head and lower his head in a condescending glare.  “And you wonder why your life is fucked up all the time…”

“Maybe,” the guitarist conceded with a slight lift of one shoulder.  “But from where I’m sittin’?   My life is looking a helluva lot better than yours.”

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’d stalled as long as she could, but, eventually, Rachel had run out of places to… run.   It was time to go home. 

Home. 

She remembered a time, not so long ago, when feeling she had a home with Jon filled her with absolute joy.  That joy had been stolen by careless, hurtful words and wounded pride, but their weeks apart had finally softened the rough edges of her anger and hurt.  Enough so that, when she felt the sudden urge to get back to him, she couldn’t get her bag packed fast enough. 

Driving only slightly faster than the law allowed, she was anxious to get back.  But...  she was still a little nervous, though.  She was unsure about the reception she might receive when she got there.  How would he respond to her after she’d created an excuse not only to leave him, but to stay away from him?  

In retrospect, it wasn’t the most mature thing to do.  It was definitely at odds with her usual ‘tackle the world head-on’ way of dealing with her job, but this wasn’t work.  It was her life, which she’d never been very good at dealing with when it spun out of control.  Therefore, it had seemed perfectly logical to her that, because they were so harsh when they fought, a little time apart could only serve to limit the damage they inflicted on each other. 

With equal parts anxiety and anticipation, she pulled into the driveway of the house that had become hers in the last months.  Stopping only long enough to drop her bags inside the front door, Rachel crossed the road and made her way along the now familiar path to Jon’s property.  The mass of cars in the studio parking lot told her that’s where she’d find him, and she hesitated for only a second before climbing the stairs.

A room full of people was added insurance that they wouldn’t immediately resume lashing out at one another.

Every time she opened that creaky door to the studio, Rachel was struck by the thought that not one of the men who frequented this place had ever thought to spray a little WD-40 on the hinges.  It was a real estate thing, she supposed, and she made a mental note to take care of the little nuisance herself the next time she came. 

Quietly closing the door behind her, she heard music coming from the depths of the studio.    That was to be expected, she supposed, although it was still enough of a novelty that she took conscious note of it. 

When she rounded the corner she could see the rooms were filled with people, each doing their own thing at various place throughout the studio – drinking coffee, talking quietly, twisting knobs, doodling on notebooks. 

She propped herself against the corner of the doorway, focusing her attention on the man she’d come to see.  His eyes were squinted shut and a set of headphones only covered one ear as he sang from....  Well, from a place that felt like where her heart had been living lately.    

The world is cracked, the sky is torn

I’m hanging in, you’re holding on.

We can’t pretend that nothing’s changed

Living in the shadows of the love we made

Back when we were beautiful

Before the world got small

Before we knew it all

Back when we were innocent

I wonder where it went

Let’s go back and find it

Some dreams live

Some will die

But the you in me is still alive

Now am I blessed or am I cursed

Cause the way were are ain’t the way we were...

Absorbing every word that was emoted from the lips that she hadn’t kissed in so long, Rachel felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart.  She couldn’t help but assume he was singing about them – about their relationship. 

Jon caught sight of her as he finished the second verse and stopped.  Pulling his headphones completely off and dropping them on the console, he moved toward her as though drawn by a magnetic force and his eyes were locked intently on hers.   When he reached her, he crooked his arm around the back of her neck, pulling her into his chest. 

His whispered, “Hey,” just before he kissed the top of her head was the only thing he said.  

Her quiet, almost timid voice seemed like a stranger’s, even to her.  “Hey.  I can see you’re busy.  I just wanted to tell you I was back.”

“S’okay….”  Taking half a step backward, he lifted her chin with a single knuckle while leaning down to kiss her properly, if not passionately.   “I’m glad you’re home.” 

So absorbed were they in one another and trying to hear the unspoken words that were running through each other’s minds, Jon and Rachel both missed the group of people in the studio exchanging looks and trying not to gawk.  The confusion etched into the eyes and forehead of everyone besides Richie clearly said they couldn’t understand the palpable tension between these two.

Turning her attention from Jon to the men, Rachel said hello and made pleasant chit chat for a moment before telling Jon, “I have a couple of calls to make, so I’ll let you get back to work.”

He only nodded, his fingers crammed into the front pockets of his jeans as they always were when he was uncomfortable. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

The silent sigh imperceptibly lifted and dropped his shoulders. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

Rachel extended her goodbyes to the puzzled crew before she and Jon made their way outside and down the exterior stairs.  Neither of them spoke during their short journey to the ground, and she hated the awkward feeling that hovered between them.  It was of little consolation to pivot and find his shoulders hunched up, fingers still in his pockets - although that could now be from the chill of the air instead of discomfort. 

“I’m sorry if I interrupted your work.”  Her gaze flicked to the studio door and back again.  “Kind of a sad song you were singing when I came in.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.   But yeah, it’s kind of a downer song.  I don’t know if it’ll make the record or not, but we’ll see.”  His feet planted wide, those fingers left his pockets to cradle the back of her head as as he gave her a lingering kiss. “I’ll try not to be too late... okay?”

His kiss, his touch made her feel oddly emotional. The softer emotions that had been pushed away since Turks and Caicos demanded to be remembered and they made Rachel tired.  She was tired  of fighting with him, so she merely nodded and muttered, “Take your time.” 

She stepped away from his touch only to have Jon pull her back to him. 

“I did miss you.  And I’m very glad you’re home.”

He had tried not to be late, but when things were flowing with the band there was no way he could stop.  Recording, re-writing and rehashing had taken far longer than he planned, making it the wee hours of the early morning before he found his way to Rachel’s door. 

There, the warm reception he’d hoped for was little more than the porch light being left on for him.  It wasn’t much, but he’d take it. 

Locking the door and pushing the key back into his pocket, he  knew she’d be asleep, but climbed the stairs two at a time anyway.   Anytime he was headed home to Rachel, he was in a hurry.  Even if she was pissed at him.

The only sound in the bedroom was that of her soft breathing and then the plop of his clothes as he stripped bare and crawled between the blankets with her.   He flipped to his right side and instinctively rested his hand on her left hip.   Even in her sleep, Rachel wiggled her body up against his until her back was pressed firmly against his chest.  The silky sleepshirt that she wore, rode high on her thighs, begging to be lifted and it’s underneath explored.    His fingers itched to dance under her gown remembering her every curve .  She never wore panties to bed... –

He was cursing himself for throwing a fit and insisting they not have sex until the birth control issue was resolved, even though she was being stubborn about discussing it.  Jon would be more comfortable if she were on the pill or some other form, but he did trust her.   There was no doubt in his mind that she was completely innocent of trying to pull something over on him.  That just wasn’t his Rachel.

He found his fingers gently bunching up the hem of the gown – where he knew he’d find nothing but her sweet skin. 

Damn, he wanted her.   But he didn’t want this... stuff hanging in the air between them when he had her.  Didn’t know if he could stand the thought that he was admitting he was wrong. 

About the time his stubbornness kicked in full-force and he’d  decided to retreat to his own side of the bed and just go to sleep, she turned onto her back.

She wasn’t awake.  Her breathing never changed when her movement  positioned his hand on her lower abdomen.  Rachel might be mad, but her subconscious still wanted him and this new temptation turned out to be more powerful a force than his stubbornness. 

As his hand was given liberty to wander at will,  it didn’t take long for Rachel to stir. 

The arm closest to him curved around his neck and she pulled him in for a sleepy kiss.   The hem of her gown was scrunched up far above the spot his fingers most wanted to be and, eventually, Rachel pulled it over her head and threw it off the bed. 

Their naked bodies, now so familiar to each other, knew what to do – without  any words of love or apology.   Her body opened to him and thoughtless instinct had him assuming the position that he’d taken with her so many times before.

“So good, baby…”

Jon’s slightest encouragement had her bucking her hips off the mattress with mindless, wild abandon.  For every natural thrust of his hips, she met him with an equal blind fervor. 

“Need you, Jonny.”

Those  few words were all there was.  Nothing was resolved, no hearts had been mended, no hurtful words had been erased.  Their breathy panting was the only sound in the air beyond the impatient coupling of their sweat-slickened bodies, trying to find solace in familiarity.