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