Chapter 115

Jon woke up and growled at the brightness of the sun. Fuckin' world should be gray, not all bright and cheerful. There was nothing to be cheerful about. He'd been so wanting to enjoy his wife last night. She had danced so erotically in the pit, he knew he was in for a good night.

Had that happened though? Of course it hadn't. It hit yet again, that fuckin’ nausea all pregnant women lived with. Damn he was getting fuckin’ tired of her being sick. Deep down he knew it wasn't her fault but why the fuck did she have to be pregnant?

Things had been so good. He found a girl that could deal with his moods and dish it back but now it was all ruined . He glanced at her and threw back the covers. He needed to burn off this excess frustration or he might take it out on her, and although he really wanted too, he knew he’d better find another way to get rid of the excess energy before he took his mood out on his wife. I'll go running, running always helps.

He threw on some jogging pants and a tshirt, then slid on his gym shoes. Maybe a good long run will do the trick. I’ll stop by and see Rich. Maybe he’ll want to go with me, IF hes not busy fuckin’ like a rabid rabbit.

He wanted Richie to go with him, and so help him if he got some last night he’d be missing some nuts.Taking one last look at his wife he walked out the door and down to Richie's room not bothering to leave a note. She’ll probably sleep the day away as it is, she always did after a night long vomit marathon.

As soon as he reached Richie’s door his fist starting pounding upon wood.

She stepped from the bathroom as the pounding started. It had been a rough night, the seafood Richie had wanted for dinner had played mean and nasty tricks on her which had ended up with her plans for a hot night under the sheets turning into a cold miserable spell praying to the porcelain god. It was times like this that she knew the greater being was laughing at her. He'd given her Rich AND a coming baby, and took away all the fun in one fell swoop.

At least Richie had been sweet about it, even offering to go find that exact kind of ice cream she'd suddenly started wanting to help her upset tummy.

She started towards the door laughing as she opened it, "Forget your..." Her voice trailed off as she watched a very snarly front man brush past her into the sitting area. The look on his face screamed frustration and anger. "Well good morning to you, where's Harpo and Chico?" She winked at the reference to Groucho Marx and his obvious mood.

His eyes swept over her, her perky disposition lighting a match to the smoldering embers of his discontent. "Don't even start with me. Where is Rich? " Jon growled as he pushed his way inside and glanced around.

She closed the door and turned at the snarl in her voice. "He's not here." She watched him pace as she stepped further into the room. He was playing the part of coiled and tensed spring to perfection. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Yea like I’ll tell you so you can jump on my ass. Where’d he go anyway?" Jon glared at the woman who was taking pregnancy by storm. She looked like she’d never seen the backside of any toilet or puke. The pent up frustration caused by no sex was building by the moment; if he didn't get a release soon he was gonna blow .

She couldn't stop the sweet grin from coasting to her face. "Ice cream run. I think it will keep the icky nausea at bay."

"Oh ain't he just the sweetest thang?" Jon rolled his eyes at the bright smile on her face. That smile had to go, that smile spoke of things he'd wanted the night before but not received. "Got him pussy whipped already I see."

Her brow arched at the sarcasm in his voice. "No, he's just considerate, unlike SOMEONE I know." She felt her mouth revving up, Jon’s snotty attitude was not helping her to control her usually mile a minute tongue.

"What the fuck you saying? I am being considerate. Just because you don't see it don't mean I ain't. I aint into PDA's you should know that."

"Nah of course not, kiss fuckin' stranger's every night, get on your knees to pray so they can feel ya up while you ignore the woman that loves ya." She stood there watching as his brow rose and felt the room heat by degrees. "Oh yeah, you're really not into those displays of affection. You're not into being anything but fuckin' boring as it is."

She took a step back as Jon's eyes grew a dark blue and he took a deep breath. She could damn near feel the anger pouring off him in tense waves.

His shoulders tensed further as she talked. This girl was enough to try the patience of a saint, but to say he ignored his wife that was crossing the line. " I don't ignore G you know that. So where the fuck do you get off saying I fucking ignore her? I take her everywhere I go, I do things for her. "

She nodded sweetly. "Of course you do when its the easy stuff, the stuff that anyone would do, but what about when it truly counts huh? Have you let the world know she’s yours? Have you given her just one kiss where anyone but the almighty band could see it? Oh wait how about holding her hand? Of course not. That's reserved for the nameless masses of fans. NOT the wife. Richie at least will hold me close in public, always touching me in some way even if its just to brush my hair from my face. HE's not afraid of showing affection. YOU? Big bad jersey boy, he's fucking afraid of it."

She took a deep breath and continued. "But then we are talking about bland plain white toast boy. You probably don't know how to be anything other than cardboard perfect right?"

His mood went from snarly to nasty in an instant. "Oh like Sambora gives you that much attention from stage. It’s our fuckin’ job to make out with all of them. Besides, how the fuck do you know what she wants? Oh wait you're her,” His voice went high, as his hands lifted to mimic air quotes, “best friend forever. Well let me tell you, she's happy. She don't need the lovey dovey, show the world I’m his skippity do dah day shit. She’s not as fuckin’ needy as you. Now fuckin’ stay our of our business!" Jon shouted the words as the anger coarsed thru this veins, his words turning mean even as he tried to control himself.

"No can do Xerox. Like you said she's my best friend. She's had a rough time of it in her life. Her own fuckin' parents barely gave her time of day. She LOVES, that’s L-O-V-E-S," she spelled it the second time for effect, "to be shown she’s worth something. For someone to show they love her? And the ONE man she cares the most about can't see past his own stupidity to hold her damned hand in public?? YES it bothers her you stupid jackass."

Her words echoed in his head but he was too damn stubborn to admit that. He never knew about her family. She never talked about her family ever. Not that I took the time to ask either He just was too damn busy, he did what needed to be done . She got pregnant, they got married simple as that. She knew he loved her. For God's Sake he had told her in the shower, what more could she want?

"Look if she wanted that she would have said it . Who are you to tell me how to handle my wife? " Jon shot back the question without thinking.

"Add deaf to your other negative traits? " She sighed a moment and stepped closer. "She won’t TELL you, then she'd be weak. You know a lot like YOU Superman. Besides, to be honest SOMEONE needs to tell you to how to handle a woman, you sure don't seem to be getting the idea of it."

She turned to walk to the patio door muttering, "Someone needs to just fucking be brave enough to tell you the damned truth about it all."

Jon stormed over to her. "And you think you should be the one to point out all my fucking flaws? NO one can have it happily ever after. What gives you the right to tell me how to be? " He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her wrist and turned her around to face him." You are to be seen not heard from this point on.IS that clear enough honey? Like a good little girl you keep your goddamned mouth shut to me. I am so sick of your bitching. If you're so unhappy with things here on tour, why don't you go the fuck home and stay home a be a good little wife?"

The desire to wipe the look from his face with a slap rose ruthlessly. "I am a good wife, more than you are a husband."

She jerked her arm away with a wince, the pain egging on her fury. "I'm just the person to tell you the truth. YOU don't sign my paycheck, I don't carry your last name and I ain’t scared of a stuck in the rut, lying piece of cardboard that wouldn’t know variety if it walked up to him and punched him in the way too perfect face."

"For the love of God how can Richie stand to put up with you? I know I sure as hell couldn't." His hands arrowed through his hair as the next words came unbidden. "I'm sure you push G around too. Why they find you so great-- I haven't a clue." His anger roared as the words studdered from him. Hell he hadn’t been that mad in years. Figures Miss Bri would be the one to make him nuts.

She rubbed at her wrists, the ache there almost distracting. "THEY love me because they know I won’t hide shit from them. They can trust my very words. They KNOW come hell or high water I'll be there for them. Can't say that about you. YOU lie to your fans, you lie to your wife and most of all you LIE to yourself. "

"Ok Miss Fuckin’ Know it All. I lie about everything? Just how do you know that? Can you see into my brain? " Jon spat the words. Honesty to him was one thing, fuckin’ disrespect his abilities to love? Not gonna happen.

She slid past him and moved to the small table with her laptop, punching at the power button as she growled. "Ok we'll start with a question. WHO said, I'll never repeat a show? Who said, When we start being a nostalgia band we'll quit?? Who said I'm gonna be doing more rare stuff this tour?? HMMMM WHO?"

"I did, " he bit out.

She clicked a few times and brought up her excel spreadsheet. "Right. Gave them all a list of seventy fucking songs out of what two or three hundred songs over twenty five years? Well Xerox, take a look at this." She tapped her screen then moved back.

"Gouge up the prices to line your pockets, give them ALL this false hope of seeing something different.. Then hand them that. Oh I grant you there are a few slivers, and I Do fucking mean SMALL slivers of unique. But all that shows me is you’re exactly what you swore you wouldn’t be. When they called you white toast in the eighties?? THEY knew what they meant."

She started to laugh as she continued. "The same fucking 25 or 30 songs every night.. Maybe in a different place, but usually not. I know what you're gonna do before you fucking do it. YOU FUCKING BORE me. The fans scream because your polished and good and they love you. And you do them a disservice, especially in the states."

Jon glanced at the screen then growled in a low voice, " YOU have no fuckin’ idea what I have to go through . For one thing the ticket prices are out of my control, and before you smart mouth me back come to a DAMN FUCKING MEETING with these guys and you will see. As for the setlists, we did have production errors. Anyone with half a fucking brain knows my basic setlist changes depending on the crowd. Why the fuck am I explaining this shit to a fan who got what she wanted? You got a member of the band and you’re married to him so SHUT THE FUCK UP'

Her eyes widened, "I certainly will not! That setlist is all about you. Fuck production issues, that hasn’t been a problem since Seattle. Admit it old man, you’re stuck in a rut. Easy to do. They still scream why change it up?? The tickets are already sold. Fuck you Jonny, what happened to the guy HUNGRY to hear more than a few screams?? You think you got nothing to prove now?? Its all Jonny jonny he's our man?? No band?? Where’s the nods to Richie or Dave or Teek? Show it all to Bandiera on the jukebox too, and now you wanna throw my BEST FRIEND who saved my life into one of your snappy rut like boxes?? I won't let it happen!"

Her voice started to raise right along with her blood pressure. "I won't shut up! It's bad enough you're doing this to my best friend, but you're doing this to my man too. AT least in the last tours he played more than ONE song. He's done the SAME DAMN song sixteen fuckin' times in a row!! He's got more talent than that. I told you, you needed a teleprompter once, I reinstate that. Hell, you couldn't even remember the lyrics to that Cohen song you keep shoving down everyone’s throats. It's a beautiful song, don't get me wrong, but the more you do it the more you lessen its specialness."

Her eyes teared up she forged ahead. "I'm not trying to be a bitch, or to *get on your ass* as you so sweetly put it, but hell I thought we had started to be friends, and I THOUGHT you had enough Jersey balls to take criticism given in love. Guess I was wrong. You're just a famous jackass that forgot where he came from."