Chapter Twenty-One

As the morning light seeped across the walls, Richie rolled onto his back, punched the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.  Sleep had not come easy.  Even after tossing one off in the shower he had lain awake most of the night.  He never should have pushed Steph like that and he certainly shouldn’t have kept filling her glass just to see how far she would go if she was drunk enough.

How could this one woman have him so twisted up?

He closed his eyes and there she was, decked out in that modest black bikini.  Sinking further into the memory he could practically feel her under his hands again.  She was soft and real.  Untouched by the California madness that drove perfectly lovely women to inject and inflate themselves needlessly.  Everything about her screamed east coast natural.  That was a look that had always appealed to the jersey boy that lurked inside him.  He even liked that she was a brunette.  He wiggled his fingers, her hair was so silky and soft, he wanted to feel it running through them again.

But it was more than just her physical beauty.  She was strong, stronger than any other woman he had been with lately.  She’d had to be to survive what she’d been through.  And there was that hint of vulnerability that he could see every time he looked at her.  There was just something about her that called to him. 

Sighing, he ran his hands over his face.  There had to be a way to get her past her hang up over her dead husband.  He just couldn’t seem to figure out what that way might be.  And of course, the tour was starting again soon and he’d be leaving next week, not coming back until damn near Christmas.  How would he ever get Steph to let go and move on with him if he wasn’t even here?

He growled in frustration and the pillow under his head flew across the room.   Could the timing suck any more?

Kicking off the blankets he picked up the mangled pillow and tossed it back toward the bed. He should call her, just to make sure she was okay.  He picked up his phone and nearly dropped it when it rang in his hand.  The image that popped up indicated it was Jon.

“Hey man.”

“Hey, I didn’t disturb your beauty sleep did I?”  His friend didn’t sound like his usual chipper self this morning.

“Nah, I’m awake.”  That wasn’t a lie. He had been awake for a while now.

Jon listened to the undertone in his friend’s voice.  Something was bothering him.  Setting aside the real reason for his call he pressed his friend.  “What’s wrong?”

Richie sat down on the edge of the bed.  “Nothing.  What did you need?”

“I’ll get to that as soon as you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Richie shook his head.  Like a dog with a bone his friend was.  “Nothing gets by you does it man?”

Jon chuckled.  “How long have we been friends and you still have to ask me that?”

Richie smiled, it was nice having people care so much about you.  “I started seeing someone.”

Jon eased himself back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk.  “Really.  Another Hollywood wannabe?  What’s this one look like?”  Knowing his friend like he did, he could probably answer that question himself.

Richie frowned.  Is that what his friends thought, that he only dated bimbos?  “No man, she’s not a wannabe, starlet or otherwise.  She’s a transplant from New York.  And she’s beautiful.”

Startled by his friend’s admission, Jon abruptly sat up.  “You mean she’s normal?  And by beautiful, let me guess… blonde and built?”

Richie nearly sighed.  Leave it to Jon not to mince words.  “Yes, she’s normal. And she’s a brunette with a nice rack.”

Jon pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it.  He was sure he dialed Richie’s number. But that certainly didn’t sound like his friend at the other end of the line.  A brunette?  Since when?  “Rich, man, did I hear you right?  Did you say she’s a brunette?”

“Yeah, I know, different for me, right?  But I,” he paused.  “I don’t know man, there’s just something about her that tugs at me.”

Jon snickered.  “I just bet.”

“It’s not what you think” he said quietly.

Richie’s tone was so serious Jon pulled the phone away from his head and looked at it again. What was going on with his friend?  “You mean you haven’t slept with this woman yet?  You’re losing your touch old man.”

Richie was quiet for a long moment, not sure how much he should say.  

“Rich, man, you still there?”  Jon was starting to worry.  This was so not like Richie. Normally, he couldn’t say enough about the woman he was with.  He liked to extol on their virtues.  But this, Jon couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Richie couldn’t or wouldn’t talk about this mystery woman.

“Yeah man, sorry.  Got a little distracted.  And to answer your question, no, we haven’t slept together yet.  She has some issues she’s working through, so we’re taking things real slow.”  Much to his dismay.

Jon’s eyebrows beetled together.  Issues?  The last thing Rich needed was someone with issues.  He had enough of his own to deal with without taking on someone else’s baggage too.  “Are you sure you’re ready to handle someone with issues?”

Richie nodded as he spoke.  “Yeah, I am.  She’s not a drinker or anything if that’s what you’re thinking.  She’s just been through a lot in a short amount of time and is trying to deal with a loss greater than you would ever want to imagine.”  He still couldn’t fathom going a day without his daughter in his life.

Jon let Richie’s words roll around in his head.  What could this woman have possibly lost to keep her from Rich’s bed?  “Come on man, how bad could it have been for her to resist you, the King of Swing?”  People always thought he was the charming one, but really, it was Richie with his smile, easy demeanor and that damned dimple of his.

Richie stared out the glass door to the balcony.  “She lost her husband and son in one fell swoop.”

Jon’s mouth dropped open.  He hadn’t expected that.  “Tell me.”  He wanted the whole story, not just the bits and pieces Rich was feeding him.

“It’s not my story to tell, but I will say this.  She had been married nearly as long as you and Dot, and her son was Ava’s age.”

Jon was quiet, trying to digest what Richie was saying, trying to imagine his life without Dorothea and his kids.  He shook his head.  He couldn’t do it.

“She’s a good woman, Jon.  Better than any I have met in a long time.  I don’t want to fuck this up, that’s why we’re moving as slow as we are.  She’s not a fling.  She’s a forever.”  A forever?  Richie silently berated himself.  Where the fuck had that come from?

Jon let the fling/forever comment slide for now.  They were terms they had used a million years ago to describe the chicks they’d find backstage.  The forevers were few and far between back then and even then the guys stayed away from them.  None of them had wanted to even think about a forever girl when the flings were lined up around the block it seemed.  Luckily for Jon, his forever had stuck around through the flings and once he smartened up, he forgot about the flings and hung on to his forever with both hands. 

He circled back to the “forever”.  Could this be a good thing?  Was Rich finally taking steps in the right direction, getting his life back on a totally different track from the one he was nearly out of control on?  When Jon finally spoke, he kept his tone light.  He wanted his friend to be happy, that was the bottom line.  “Issues or no, I think I need to meet the woman who could tell you no and still have you mooning over her like this.” 

Richie smiled.  “Eventually man, eventually.”

They ended the call and as Richie was setting his phone back on the night table a tone indicated he had missed a call while he was talking to Jon.  Picking the phone back up he pressed a button and sighed. 

Stephanie had called.

~

Frowning at the phone in her hand, Stephanie inhaled deeply and pressed send.  She had debated with herself for an hour about calling him, but she needed to know.  Waiting, she went over in her head what she was going to say.  When his voicemail came on she swore.  Now she’d have to wait for him to call her back.  Damn it.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she set her phone on the night table her gaze landed at the bottom shelf of the bookshelf.  Reaching out, her hand came back with the one photo album she had unpacked.  Settling back on the bed, she set the album on her lap and opened the cover.  The spine cracked and her breath caught.  The very first picture was one from their wedding.  She traced the couple’s faces, they had been so young.  Just 21 when they said their I Do’s.  A lifetime ago it seemed.  Sucking in a tremulous breath she turned the page.  Snap shots of their life scattered across the pages.  Parties, outings, get-togethers with friends, with family.  It was all here, a testament to a life full of joy and love and laughter.

Sniffling, she kept turning the pages, her life, their life changing, growing.  His large, strong hand on her belly, swollen with their baby.  Always they were together, the two of them, then three.  After years of trying, they were finally blessed with Ben.  There wouldn’t be any others, but he was enough.  Their sweet, chubby baby boy had blossomed into a tall, lanky, smart-as-a-whip young man.  A young man robbed far too soon of all the wonders life would have held for him. 

Reaching for a tissue, Stephanie mopped her face and turned the last page of the album.  There they were again, the last photo she had of the two of them.  A snap shot from a backyard barbecue.  She traced his face.  “Oh baby, I miss you so much.”  For a long time she stared at their faces, their forever had ended much too soon.

Closing the album, she left it on the bed as she moved to the window.  Staring out into the late morning sky another man’s face swam into her vision.  Her heartache eased as she thought about the handsome guitarist with the warm brown eyes and easy smile.  She wanted him.  Her body had told her that much last night.  But could she let go of Mark and let it happen?

The clouds shifted and A ray of sunshine streamed through the window, bathing her in its light and warmth and then, she knew.  Mark wouldn’t want her to spend the rest of her days alone.  He would want her to be happy and to find someone else to love.

Smiling through her tears she turned and picked up her phone again.