Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Chapter 9

Saturday, after they’d finished breakfast, Joan pulled Tori and Richie aside. “Why don’t you two take off and spend the day together?”
Tori frowned. “The kids...”

“Rosa and I will look after the kids. Ava will help.”

Richie searched his mother’s eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been on the road so much and you’re only home a few more days before you head out again.”

“Which is why we’ve been focusing on family time.” Tori pointed out.

“Mmmhmm, and that’s great, but couples need time alone to reconnect too without the distraction of kids.”

“Oh, we’ve had alone time.” Richie assured her.

Joan rolled her eyes. “Obviously or Tori wouldn’t be so tired. I’m talking about more than the physical. Trust me on this. Now, go for a walk on the beach, or shopping, go out for lunch, go to a movie, whatever you want to do, but go do something together!”

Not wanting to argue with her mother-in-law, Tori obediently headed for the stairs to change her clothes.

Richie started for his studio, waving his mother to join him. He reached for an acoustic guitar and a case. “Ok Ma, what’s up? What are you seeing that I’m not?” She rarely interfered with his marriage – unless she was asked or saw something that had the potential to become a major problem or help for them, especially since their past problems.

“Richie, you’re a good husband and father, but as a man, there’s just some things you wouldn’t notice or understand, and Miss Bongiovi up there won’t tell you about what she sees as a weakness. You know what a hard time she has dealing with the hormone swings. At this stage they make her needy and clingy, which is the last thing she wants to be, not only because of her independent nature, but she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty while you’re on tour.  You were home for this stage with the other two, but you’re going to be away a lot for this one. She needs your undivided attention for a little while when you’re home this time around.”

Richie sighed and nodded.

Joan knew he wasn’t as annoyed at the prospect as he was pretending to be. “No one said a full life was easy. But isn’t it worth the effort?”

Full lips twitched. “Yes.” He gave his mother an assessing look and reached for a second guitar. “You really are a romantic at heart aren’t you?”

“Where do you think you get it from?” She chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Now go romance your wife.”

“Yes ma’am. Any other instructions?”

“Smartass. Don’t sass your mother! Do I really need to give you instructions on how to take care of your pregnant wife?”

A low chuckle rumbled around the room. “No, I think I can figure it out.” A slight frown furrowed his brow. “How did you know she was pregnant again anyway?”

“Just because the good Lord only saw fit to bless me with one, doesn’t mean I don’t recognize the signs.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain it. She just has that certain aura around her.”

“Ah. I see.” Right. Not a clue, but he’d go with her flow.

“I have to say I’m surprised that you’d have another one so soon.”

“So were we.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” No further words were needed on the subject. “What time do you want us back?”

“Not before dinner, but before the little ones go to bed. Just let us know whether you’re going to be here for dinner.”

“Got it.”  Picking up the guitar cases, he headed for the garage.




They wandered an outdoor craft/artisans market where Tori picked up a few trinkets she planned to make into new danglies for his pants. 

Richie picked up a couple pairs of small earrings. “We can share them. A little connection when I’m on the road.”

That comment got him the hug, kiss and tears that he expected. The only other sign of her condition – and one only he would notice – was her constant physical contact. She either clung to his hand or stood close enough that some part of their bodies touched. He noted it, but wisely didn’t mention it. He’d dealt with Bongiovis long enough to know drawing attention to what they considered a weakness – even if no one else did – was a very quick way to an angry argument.

They stopped for lunch at Tori’s favourite cafe where Richie was treated to the sight his wife dipping her roast beef sandwich in vinegar. As he fought to keep his eyes off the stomach churning vision, they chatted...about the tour, the guys, the girls and their family.

Since it was a warm sunny day, Joan’s suggestion of a walk on the beach sounded like a great idea. Parking near their favourite spot, they took off their shoes and socks and walked, hand in hand at the edge of the water and talked about the kids – all four of them – including some possible names for the baby.

Finally, Richie retrieved the guitar cases, along with a blanket he always kept in the back of the Hummer for occasions just like this, and spread it over a sunny, yet sheltered area of sand. Tori sat and took the guitar he held out to her.

They played together for awhile, Richie teaching her part of a song he and Jon were working on so that she could play that part and he could work on harmonies. Then Tori set aside her guitar, leaned back on her hands, face lifted to the sun and listened to him play.

Richie shifted position, lying on his back, his head in her lap, fingers strumming idly. Tori sifted her fingers through his hair. “You let them cut your hair again.”

“Yeah. It’s easier to style.”

“I wish you’d let it grow a little.”

“Angel, I’m fifty, not twenty, even if I am a musician.”

“I don’t care how old you are. It suits you better a little longer. I’m not talking like it was in the eighties or early nineties – although you looked fantastic then – just a couple inches.” She rubbed a few strands. “And what the hell have they done to it? It’s fried! I have some deep conditioner at home. We’ll have to give you a treatment.”

“Yes dear.” She was obviously in caretaking mode and if she wanted to use those skills on him, he was more than happy to let her.

The chord progression flowing from his fingers caught her attention. “What’s that?”

“Another new song we’re working on.”

“What’s it called?” She knew the way they wrote – the title came first.

“What Do You Got. Next line is ‘if you ain’t got love’, but that’s as far as we’ve got with the lyrics.”

 “Play it for me – or as much as you’ve got.”

He obliged, watching her face, her eyes closed, humming along. The creative juices were obviously flowing and he waited silently, eagerly, to see what came out. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d helped with a song and he was always amazed at what she came up with.

“Again.” She instructed when he came to the end of what they’d written. When he’d finished the second run through, she motioned to start again. Eyes still closed she began to sing. “What do you got, if you ain’t got love? Whatever you got, just ain’t enough. Walking the road, but you’re going nowhere, trying to find your way home, but there’s no one there. Who do hold in the dark of night? You want to give up, but it’s worth the fight. You can have all the things, you’ve been dreaming of. If you ain’t got love, it’s all just keeping score, if you ain’t got love, what the hell we doing it for?”

Richie stared at her, caught in the moment, the familiar feeling of witnessing something special being created prickling along his nerve endings. Sitting up, he reached for his iPhone to record it. “Do that again.”

When it was finished, he leaned over, framed her face with his hands and kissed her soundly. “I love you! Do you mind if we use it?”

“Not at all. Feel free if you think it’s good enough.”

“It’s perfect! Jon’s going to love it too.” As he spoke, his finger flew over the tiny keyboard sending their creation to his writing partner. “Remind me to get you to collaborate on my next solo album.”

“Okay, but let me finish percolating our current collaboration before you get me starting on another one, will you?”

Richie glanced up to see her resting her hand on her stomach. Reaching out, he covered her small hand with his own and kissed her softly. “Deal.”

Tori smiled and stroked his cheek with her free hand. “Remind me to thank your mother when we get home.”

“Mmm..it’s a good thing she uses her powers for good and not evil.”

No comments:

Post a Comment