Chapter One Hundred Three

“How’re you doing?”  Jon had intended to call his friend about band business, but when the news had been splashed all over the nation about Richie’s girlfriend being in the hospital, work had been forgotten.  It could wait.  Would wait until his wingman and his girl were healthy and in a happier place.

“I’m doing all right, now.”  He was still sad, still felt the loss in his heart, but he was dealing with it as best he could. 

“How’s Stephanie doing?”

 Richie nearly snorted.  And there was the question of the day.  It had been more than a week since he had brought her home from the hospital.  Ten long, quiet days.  He hadn’t expected her to be all smiles and laughter, but anything would be better than the eternal quiet he had gotten from her.  She wouldn’t talk to him more than absolutely necessary.  He looked out to the patio where she sat with her breakfast.  She was still wearing that god awful sweater too.  His eyes moved to her plate.  She hadn’t eaten anything either.  Again.  She had become an expert diverter of questions and pusher of food around the plate.  He watched her pick up her mug of tea.  At least she was drinking.  That was something, at least. 

“Pretty much the same.  I just wish she would talk to me.”  He was nearly at the end of his rope.  He had no idea what to do for her.  He had held her while she cried, told her everything would be all right, tried to get her to tell him what she was feeling, thinking.  But she shut him down at every turn.  He was running out of ideas.  “How do I get her to talk to me?”

“Just give her time” Jon told him.  “That’s the best I got.  She’ll talk when she’s ready, so just give her time.”

“I guess.”  Richie wasn’t sure that was the best answer, since it had been ten days already, but what else could he do?

They talked a bit more and when they ended the call Richie watched her out the window for a minute. She was just sitting there, staring off, seemingly oblivious.  Running a hand through his hair he came up with one final idea.  He put his coffee mug and plate in the dishwasher before hurrying to his music room.  Grabbing one of his acoustic guitars he headed back toward the kitchen. 

“Hey.”  Stephanie was scraping her breakfast into the garbage and putting her dishes in the dishwasher.

“Hey” she answered quietly, almost timidly.  She noticed the guitar case in his hand.  “Going somewhere?”

“Yes, we are” he told her.

She shook her head, “I really don’t want to go out, not right now.”

But he wasn’t taking no for an answer.  “Come on, Sweetheart, it will do you good to get out, just for a little bit.”

She looked up and sighed at the hopeful look on his face.  He had been so good to her, taking care of her, being there for her.  How could she not go with him, just for a little while?  She finally nodded, “okay.  But where are we going?”

He took her hand and pulled her toward the garage, “you’ll see.”  He snagged her keys off the hook by the door and ushered her into the passenger seat of her Camaro.

Backing out of the garage, he put the top down and headed for the beach.  Their beach.  It was his last option.  They had had numerous serious conversations on Zuma Beach.  It was their neutral territory.  They could say anything to each other without reservation, without consequence.  If this didn’t work, he would have to turn to the professionals to help her. 

Richie found a parking spot close to the opening in the concrete barrier.  Putting the top up, he left his shoes on the floor and got out, pulling his guitar and a blanket from the back seat.  Stephanie was still just sitting in her seat. 

“You coming?”

She nodded and toed off her shoes before stepping from the car.  Combing her fingers through her hair as they walked, she pulled the curling mass away from her face and into a haphazard ponytail.  She wrapped her sweater around herself and followed him across the sand.

There were surprisingly few people on the beach today, but kids were back in school, it was a work day and the clouds in the sky didn’t make it an optimal day for soaking up the sun and surf. 

He stopped a short way from the car and set his guitar case down and unfolded the blanket.  “Help me with this?” 

She nodded and took a corner of the blanket, helping him to spread it out.  Together they sat and watched the tide crash into the shore and sweep itself out again.  It was very soothing.  She sat, so lost in thought she didn’t realize Richie had started strumming his guitar and until his voice teased her from her musing.

There's a world in every drop of rain
Embracing oceans sweep us home again
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie

They say for every living thing
There's a guide up in the sky
That helps you pass from world to world
So you never really die

Then with scythe and cloak
Death comes waltzing to your side
As the visions pass you ask
If there was meaning to your life
As you strain to hear the answer, spirits sing, and devils fiddle
As he bends to whisper in your hear, he leaves you one more riddle

Oh, the answer lies beyond the pain
All the questions in our minds, we surely ask in vain
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, and you shall find another life

She turned her head toward him.  That was one of her very favorite songs of his.  And he had to choose now to sing it to her?

She listened some more.  She knew what he was trying to do.  Knew what she should do, but it still hurt so much.

And now my life is like a storm
Growing stronger every day
Like the unrelenting wind
That comes to blow our lives away
So I live each day like I know it's my last
If there is no future there must be no past

Now I know the answers never meant a thing
And with each instant that I breathe
I feel the joy that life can bring
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie

“I’m sorry” she blurted out when he stopped playing.

He slowly set the guitar back in its case.  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She nodded her head, “yes there is.  I lost your baby.  It’s all my fault.”

He reached for her, “no, Sweetheart, it’s not.  It’s not anyone’s fault.”

She shook her head and evaded his touch.  “But it is.  Don’t you see?  I’ve been pregnant before.  I should have recognized the signs.  I should have taken better care of myself.  I shouldn’t have pushed myself to do so much in the last few weeks.”  She sighed brokenly.  “I should have known.”

The devastation in her eyes was almost more than he could bear.  He shifted on the blanket and gathered her into his chest.  “There is nothing you can say that will make me believe that any of this was your fault.”  As much as it pained him to admit, he added, “it just wasn’t meant to be.”

They sat, pretzeled together and with her head resting against his chest she could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart.  She realized he must be hurting too.  She had been so wrapped up in her own grief and guilt that she hadn’t given any thought to how he must be feeling.  Angling her head she nuzzled his neck.  “How are you doing?  I’ve been such a mess I haven’t even considered how you were dealing with this.  You must not think very highly of me at the moment.”

His hands moved up and down her back a gesture of comfort for the both of them.  “Nothing could be further from the truth.” 

“But-”

He shushed her.  “I know this was horrible for you, you just take all the time you need dealing with things and don’t worry about me.”

She was quiet for a long moment before sitting back and asking him the question she hadn’t even considered before now.  “Rich, did you want another baby?”

His eyes were full of emotion when he looked down into hers.  “Until I met you, there hadn’t been anyone in my life important enough to even think about having a baby with.  Now, though, even after all that happened in the last ten days, I think I would.”

A long silence stretched between them.  She untangled herself from him and stood at the front of the blanket, letting the sand sift between her toes.  “I wasn’t even sure I could get pregnant again.”

“Why?”

She felt him behind her, rested her arms on his when they circled her from behind.  “It took us-Mark and I-several years to get pregnant with Ben.  Then, I never got pregnant again.  The entire time we were married we never used any kind of birth control.  The doctors couldn’t find anything physically wrong with either one of us either.  It just didn’t happen, except for that one time when all the planets aligned and lo and behold, one of his swimmers hit its target and we ended up with Ben.”  She shook her head sadly.  “Why does this have to hurt so much?”

He squeezed her gently.  “I wish I could take all that hurt away for you, Baby.”

She turned in his arms, tucked her head under his chin, she felt better for being with him like this.  “You make it easier to handle.”

He chuckled quietly and kissed the top of her head.  “At least I’m good for something.”

Angling her head, her mouth grazed his neck, his chin and up until her lips met softly with his.  “You’re good for a lot of things” she murmured against his mouth. 

And there, on a late summer day on their breezy bit of beach, she found hope and healing in his words and in his kiss.  And she thought maybe, just maybe things would get back to being okay again and she could give Richie what he wanted. 



**The Answer ~ Richie Sambora

Chapter One Hundred Two

He paced the length of the room alongside the bed where Stephanie lay.  He had pulled every string, including the “do you know who I am” thread to get her an actual room in the Emergency Department instead of a cubicle with a curtain.  He didn’t want the whole world to know their business.  He was already sure some paparazzi had managed to get a shot of him carrying her purse into the Emergency Department.  He looked down at her.  He’d deal with whatever media shit came down on him later.  Right now, he just wanted her to be okay.  She was much too pale for his liking.  She very nearly matched the color of the sheets she was covered with. 

Two different nurses had been in and out a dozen times, but they weren’t talking beyond the standard fact finding questions and the doctor was certainly taking his or her own sweet time making his or her way here.  But he already had a bad feeling he knew what was going on.  He was nearly positive she had a miscarriage right there in the bathroom.  It was the only thing that made sense.  Why else would she have passed out in his arms and left a puddle of blood on the floor?

A nurse came in, interrupting his thoughts.  “Just need to check her temperature and her blood pressure again.”

Richie nodded.  “Sure.  Where is the doctor?”

“She’ll be along as soon as she can.”

He sat down in the small metal chair next to the bed and picked up Stephanie’s hand.  “You doing okay, Sweetheart?”  She had woken up in the ambulance, but had been eerily quiet since then. 

She shrugged noncommittally, “I guess.”  She was sure she knew what had happened too, but until it was confirmed, she didn’t want to think about it.

The nurse marked her stats on the chart and left the room again.

“Rich-”

“Sweetheart,”

They both forced a laugh.  “You first” she told him.

He shook his head, “nope, after you.  Ladies first.”

“I just-“

The door opened and the doctor walked in, picking up the chart from the end of the bed.  “Stephanie Stinson?”

Stephanie turned her attention from Richie to the woman standing next to the bed.  “That’s me.”

“I’m Dr. Christine Walsh, OB/Gyn.”  She looked across the bed to Richie, “and you are?”

Richie stood and extended his hand, “Richie Sambora, Stephanie’s boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, but I need to ask you to step out for a few minutes.”  She looked back at Stephanie, “we need to discuss what’s going on with you and what course of action we’re going to take.”  Privacy laws being what they were now she had to ask.

Stephanie gripped Richie’s hand tighter.  “He’s staying.”

“Are you sure?”  Dr. Walsh had to be sure her patient was absolutely certain before she disclosed any medical information.

“Doctor, he’s not going anywhere.  Just tell me how far along I was and if getting punched in the stomach had anything to do with the miscarriage.”

Richie’s eyes widened and he was sure shock registered on his face.  She had known?  Did that mean she had known she was pregnant too?  If she had, why hadn’t she told him?

Stephanie felt Richie’s hand go slack in hers and she looked over to find a gob-smacked look on his face.  “No, I didn’t know.  It’s just an educated guess, all things considered.”  She turned back to the doctor, wincing with the pain of another set of cramps.

Before the doctor answered she lifted the blankets, “hasn’t a nurse been in here?”  Stephanie was sitting in a small pool of blood.

“Just to take my temperature and blood pressure and to hook up the IV.”

“I’ll get someone in here to take care of this.  But first, when was your last period?”

Stephanie searched her memory, trying to remember when she last had it.  It had been less than regular ever since Mark and Ben had died.  “I think it was while we were in Europe.”  She looked over at Richie, “we were in…it was just before we got to Portugal.”  She looked back at the doctor, “late July.”

Dr. Walsh did a little mental math.  “I’d say you were anywhere from six to eight weeks along.  We’ll need to do a pelvic exam to make sure there isn’t any tissue left behind.  We may also have to do a D and C.  And to answer that last question, no, a punch to the stomach wouldn’t have caused the miscarriage but, if it had already started, the punch could have moved things along.”

Stephanie nodded.  She couldn’t blame this on the punch from Kyle. So it was most likely her fault for all the stress she had been under and working so damn hard on the Habitat project.  “Okay.  Can I go home tonight?”

The doctor shook her head and patted Stephanie’s leg.  “I think we’ll keep you until tomorrow.”  She made a notation on her chart.  “I’ll have the nurse come in and clean you up and I’ll be back to do the exam.”

The doctor left the room and Richie got up and paced again.  Stephanie stayed suspiciously quiet.  The nurses bustled in and out, changing sheets, bringing in a tray of instruments for the doctor, making sure Stephanie was as comfortable as she could be, all things considered, and still they didn’t talk to each other. 

When the doctor came back Richie stayed by Stephanie’s side while she did her exam.  He followed along and donned a set of scrubs before entering the operating room.  He held her hand while they gave her an epidural.  She remained stoically silent.  He sat up near her head while the doctor cleaned whatever remained of their child from Stephanie’s body.  He wondered if the heaviness he felt in his heart was anything like what she lived with every day since Ben had died. 

She gave him no indication of any emotion so how could he know?  He wanted to ask, wanted to know what to do with everything he was feeling, but she had gone totally silent on him.  She hadn’t uttered a word to him.  The only time she spoke was when the doctor or one of the million nurses asked her a direct question.  The one time they truly needed each other and neither one of them was talking. 

He stared out the window of her room as the nurses got her re-settled in the bed.  His stomach growled, loudly.

“Why don’t you go home, Rich?”

He turned, surprised to hear her speak to him.  “I’m fine, Sweetheart.  I’ll stay with you.”

She turned her head, trying to get a better look at him.  It had been one hell of a day and his features were drawn and he looked exhausted.  “Really, it’s okay if you go home.  All I’m going to do now is sleep.  Besides, I’ll need clothes to go home in tomorrow.  I can’t exactly wear what I came here in.”  She had been wrapped in a bath towel when the ambulance arrived at the house.

He moved back to the ridiculously uncomfortable chair by her bed.  “We need to talk about all this.”

“I know” she answered quietly.  But she couldn’t do it now.  She was barely holding on to her emotions as it was.  She couldn’t let go now.  She might never get a grip on them again.  “We will.”  She reached a hand across to his, wrapping her pinkie around his.  “I promise.”

~

After cleaning up the mess in the bathroom-there was no way he wanted Stephanie to have to deal with it and his cleaning lady shouldn’t have to deal with it-he spent a restless night in their bed alone.  A baby.  He would have been a father again.  Ava would have had a sibling.  He sat up in bed and propped his forearms on his knees.  Did he even want another baby?  At his age?  He shook his head.  He didn’t know but this ache in his chest told him he would have loved this one, no matter what. 

He got out of bed and crossed to the small shelf in the corner of the room.  He picked up a picture of him and Ava when she was just a few months old.  The picture blurred and he blinked away the moisture that clouded his vision.  He had loved her from the moment Heather had told him she was pregnant.  Loved her with a ferocity he had never before known the minute he held her for the first time.  He hadn’t known he had that much inside him for another person.

He set the picture back on the shelf.  Who was he kidding?  Of course he wanted more kids.  He always had.  Heather hadn’t and that had been just one of the sticking points that had led them down the road to divorcing.  He wandered to the door that led to the balcony and stepped outside.  Daylight was just hinting at the eastern sky.  Yeah, even at his age, he wanted more kids.  But after all that Stephanie had been through, would she want to try again?  He couldn’t even begin to imagine how she must be feeling. 

He turned and headed back inside, angling toward the bathroom.  A hot shower and a pot of coffee would go a long way toward keeping him going today.  He was going to grab her some clothes, get to the hospital and bring her home as soon as they would let him.

They had a lot to talk about.

~

It took longer than he would have liked, a lot longer, but finally they were home.  As they walked through the front door he gripped her fingers.  “Do you need anything, sweetheart?  Something to eat maybe?”  He was sure she hadn’t eaten anything since the day before.

She shook her head, “no, nothing.”  She was nearly at her breaking point.  If he was any nicer to her, she’d crack.  She turned away from him and headed to the stairs and slowly made her way up to their room.

She hadn’t spoken to him the entire ride home.  She knew he had to be hurting too, she could see it on his face and the sadness in his eyes was killing her.  But what could she say to him?  ‘Sorry I lost your baby.  I didn’t even know I was pregnant.’  Very lame.  How could she not have known?  She had been pregnant before she should have seen the signs.  But she hadn’t.  And now, it was too late.

Stepping into their room she rubbed her arms.  She was so cold.  She dug in the closet and found her favorite and most comfortable sweater.  She pulled it on and wrapped it around herself crossing her arms over her middle as if she was trying to hold herself together.  Moving toward the bed she stopped and focused on the shelf in the corner.  She picked up the picture of Ben and dropped to the floor by the door to the balcony.  She held the picture against her chest and stared out into the rainy wetness of the day.  At least the weather matched her mood.  How could this have happened? What had she done in her life to deserve losing two children? 

Tears ran, unchecked, down her cheeks and she laid her head against the window.  She couldn’t do this.  She wasn’t strong enough to go through this again.  She had nothing left for anyone.

Richie watched her from the doorway, his heart breaking for her.  When she slumped to the floor, he set the mug of steaming tea he carried on the dresser and crossed to her gathering her close.  Gently he held her while she cried.  His lips grazed her hair, her temple when she turned her head against his chest.  His own face was wet with tears for her and for the baby they both had lost.  “It’s okay” he murmured.  “It’ll be okay.”

She listened to the steady beat of his heart and wondered if anything would ever be okay again.

Chapter One Hundred One

To:     The Girls

From: Q

Re:     Catching Up

OMG girls, so much has been going on I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I should start by apologizing for being absent for so long.  Things have been so crazy here I am just now starting to find my feet again. 

So, let’s see, way back in July (while we were in Europe) I got a phone call from my real estate agent who helped me find the house I was renting in Burbank.  Guess what?  The guys I was renting from wanted to move back.  Apparently the job wasn’t all it was cracked up to be so they wanted to come back to Cali and back to their house.  There was a whole lot of back and forth about that and when all was said and done, I was out of the house, they were back in and I got most of my money back.  Needless to say, Habitat got a nice donation.

Where am I living now you ask?  Well, Richie took me in.  And not without a whole lot of drama on my end.  I never imagined myself to be overly dramatic, but man, if you had looked up drama queen in the dictionary last month, you surely would have found my picture next to the definition.  *eye roll* *forehead slap*

So, after a slight hitch in our git-along (read that as nearly two weeks where we didn’t see each other and barely spoke to each other) I am now firmly ensconced in his house and all is well.  He even took me off to Hawaii for a short break before I start my next Habitat project tomorrow.  All I can say about that is, if you ever get the chance to go, do it.  Don’t hesitate, just do it.  And Hath, the flight, while long, is totally worth it.  You could even break it up and stop in LA and stay with us before doing the short jaunt to the islands. 

And now, for my last bit of news (and no, I’m not pregnant) I attached a couple of pictures, one of which is the ring that Richie gave me while we were in Hawaii.  Per him, it’s not an engagement ring, but a promise/commitment ring.  We haven’t talked marriage and, honestly, I don’t know if I want to get married again.  He says he does, but he hasn’t put a time limit on it and he’s not pressuring me about it either.  There hasn’t been any mention from him about babies either.  I think I’m okay with that too.  I’m 42, he’s 52, isn’t that too old to be thinking about babies?  As much as I loved being a mom, I’m not sure I want to go down that road again.  

I guess Rich and I need to have a sit down to figure these things out.  See where each other’s heads are at.  But there’s plenty of time for all of it.

So, that’s everything that has been going on.  I hope you and your families are all well.  If you ever want to come visit (and I truly hope you do) the door is always open.

Miss and love you all.

Q

~

Taking off her gloves, Stephanie pulled the bandana from her back pocket and wiped the sweat from her forehead.  How did she always manage to be working on the roof when it was a billion degrees outside?  She pulled her water from her tool box and downed half of it one long swallow.  Jesus it was hot.  She finished the water and tossed the bottle back in her tool box. She’d have to go down and get another one soon.  She glanced around, the project was going well.  With the roof nearly finished she’d be able to work inside soon.  That would be welcome after working out in the heat the last few days.  Her gaze landed on Kyle and Derek.  The two guys who had worked her over outside the sports bar after the Yankee/Angels game back in June.  Why were they just standing around?

“Hey!”

Two heads turned toward her, “yeah, what?”

They really needed to check the attitude at the door.  “We need some more shingles up here.  Go down and get the rest of the bundles and the rolls of underlayment, please.  And if you don’t mind, could you grab me another bottle of water?”

They mocked saluted her, “yes ma’am” and headed down the ladder. 

She shook her head and rolled her eyes to the sky.  Why had she thought this would be a good idea?  Pulling her gloves back on she grabbed her hammer, maybe she’d use it on them if they didn’t cut the crap.

By the end of the day she was hot, sweaty and more than a little grimy.  She climbed into her truck looking forward to going home and taking an hour long shower.  She had just put the key in the ignition when the rap on her window startled her.  She cracked open the window, “what do you want?”

Before she could hit the button and lock the doors, Kyle had it open and he was tugging her out.  “Come out here.  We need to talk to you.”  His grip on her arm tightened and he pulled harder.

She reached back as she was being pulled from the truck.  Her fingers found the pepper spray she kept in the cup holder.  It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

Fear clenched in her belly and a cold sweat added another layer to the grime on her skin.  This couldn’t be happening again.  Digging deep and with her finger on the button of the pepper spray, she found her resolve.  Looking them in the eye she asked again, “what do you want?”

She saw Kyle flex and before she could dodge it, his fist slammed into her stomach.  “You bitch.  This is your fault, you know.  We didn’t have to be here doing our community service with you bossing us around and embarrassing us in front of everyone by having us wait on you hand and foot.”  He reared back to hit her again and got a face full of pepper spray for his troubles.  “FUCK!”

She turned to Derek, spray aimed and ready.  “You want some too?”

He held his hands up in defense, “no way.”  He looked down at his friend who was writhing on the ground.  “He deserved that.  I told him to leave you alone.  But when he gets his mad on, he doesn’t listen to anyone.”

Stephanie managed to get back into her truck and locked the doors.  “I’m calling the police.  Don’t let him leave, please.”

Two hours later she parked her truck and let herself into Richie’s house.  She still didn’t feel right calling it hers.  Leaving her boots in the mudroom she stopped in the kitchen for something to drink.  She winced as she downed the cold water.  Setting her glass in the sink she rubbed her stomach.  Cramps, great.  My period is just what I need after the day I had.  She trudged up the stairs, a hot shower sounding better with every step she took.

“Hey.”  Richie came out of the office in time to see her heading up the stairs.

She turned and smiled wanly at him.  “Hey.”

He climbed to where she was and gave her a quick kiss on the lips as they headed toward the bedroom together.  “Rough day?”

She stripped down to her underwear and dumped her filthy clothes in the hamper.  “You don’t even know the half of it.”  She turned and he saw the bruise that had bloomed on her stomach.

“Damn it Stephanie, what the hell happened?!”  Fuck, that had to have come from one of the guys doing their community service work with her.  He knew having those two idiots doing their penance with her was a bad idea.

She moved into the bathroom and started the shower while she unloaded her day on him.  “After Kyle hit me I nailed him with the pepper spray you gave me and called the cops.  He’s in jail for now and I have an emergency order of protection against him.  He will be serving out his community service elsewhere.”  She rubbed her stomach again and searched the medicine cabinet for an Advil, Tylenol, something to ease the pain of the cramps. 

“Why didn’t you call me?”  He watched her find the pills she was looking for and take a couple.

“There wasn’t anything you could have done, Rich.”  She peeled off her underwear and dropped her bra to the floor, “I’m fine, except that I need a shower and some food.”  She kissed his cheek.  “Don’t be mad.”  She could see him working up to it.  “I really am fine.”

He watched her shower.  He had watched her take those pills, hadn’t missed her hand moving over the bruised area of her stomach more than once.  He knew she wasn’t as fine as she was trying to make him believe.

The hot water felt glorious as it poured over her tired, achy body.  The soap and shampoo felt nearly as good as the hot water.  Now if only these freaking cramps would ease up, she’d be nearly one hundred percent.  Glancing down, she saw the hint of red mixing with the foamy soap suds as it slid down the drain.  Shit.  She needed to get out and get dried off.  She reached for the taps and her hand clenched on the hot water handle, her grip white from the sudden cramping pain in her abdomen.  She took a deep breath, then another and managed to get the water shut off.  A third breath and she got the doors open and reached for a towel.  “Rich?”

He turned in time to catch her as she pitched forward, “whoa, Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She leaned heavily against him and when her knees buckled he lowered them both to the floor.  Her head lolled on his shoulder.  “I don’t think I’m fine.”

He looked down in time to see her eyes flutter closed and by the way she slumped bonelessly against him he knew she had passed out.  “Sweetheart?”  He nudged her, shaking her a little trying to get her to wake up.  Then he noticed the pool of blood slowly growing underneath her.  “Oh shit!”






Go here if you'd like to see the ring Richie gave to Stephanie.