17 - The Times They Are A-Changin

“He did what?!  You mean to tell me, after all these years, he finally divorced her?”  was Cara’s shocked response. It was phrased like a question, but it wasn’t really.  It was more like a matter of fact.

Or so her friend thought. 

“Not exactly,” Ariana hedged, back to picking at her bagel so as to avoid the cutting look that was inevitable.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s… going to tell her he wants a one as soon as he gets home.”

Risking a glance at Cara’s face, Ari found her friend’s eyes wide and round with disbelief.  Now that she’d heard what it sounded like outside the confines of a love cocoon, Ari supposed it didn’t sound all that great. 

“Please tell me he didn’t propose to you while he is still married?  Ariana, you must have been pretty fucked up for him to finally do it.  Now, I’m not saying that in a bad way.  That man has loved you from the get go and would have asked you a hundred times by now if you would have let him.”

“Cara!” she exclaimed.  “What the hell?  So now it’s all on me?  You, of all people, should understand why I never wanted… couldn’t let him do that. He has a family!  It wouldn’t have been fair to them.”

“But don’t you see, Ari?  You have been the other woman.  All these years of you trying hard not to be, and you still ended up that way.  How was that fair to you?”

Ariana was stunned by the astuteness of that observation – and how she’d let herself do this to… herself.

“I....  God, I don’t know.”

“You were being a martyr.” 

“Uh, no. It’s was being practical. It’s not like I sat around waiting for him.  I had others.”

A sharp frown tugged at the corners of Cara’s mouth as she shook her head with impatience.  “They were mere distractions because you couldn’t have what you truly wanted.  Maybe your head wasn’t waiting for him, but your heart sure as hell was.”

“My head was doing the right thing. Not breaking up a family.”

“Your head was being stubborn. That has always been your downfall.  You think about everyone but yourself.”

“Cara, he had – has – four children!  What if they hate me?  Shit, I’d hate me for breaking up their family. That’s what was going through my head.”

“Ari, how perfect is it really? You have been having an affair with him since you were twenty-four.  That’s nineteen years! Children are resilient, as long as they know their parents love them, and I’m sure his do. It may take some time, but it will all work itself out.”

“I still haven’t given him an answer.”

The heat of an exasperated glare landed squarely in the center of Ariana’s forehead. “Please don’t tell me you’re still having doubts! Pour l’amour de Dieu, it’s about time you start thinking about you.  Jon loves you. There is no doubt about that.  And you love him, no matter how hard you try to deny it.”

“I’ve never denied my feelings for Jon.” 

“You’ve denied the extent of them and how much they affected you.”  Cara leaned forward smacking a demanding palm on the table.  “Name one time you’ve been truly happy.  Tell me a single day you haven’t thought about him or found yourself turning to tell him something – before you realize he’s not there.”  

Ari gaped like a fish out of water as she struggled to find an answer.  There was a day.  There were many days.  Weren’t there? 

She was spared having to answer by the insistent vibration of her phone.  Turning it over, she found a text from Jon.

[2:26 PM] Jon:  Hey, Crash. Hope you’re having fun. Miss you.

Despite the inquisition/intervention taking place at the hand of her best friend, Ari couldn’t help but smile at the screen as she tapped out her reply. 

[2:30 PM] Ariana: We are. Did you just get up? xoxo

“Don’t think you're getting off that easy. Answer my question.”

She put her phone aside with a sigh and decided that she didn’t have to provide the specific instance that was being demanded of her.  Ari brushed it off with a confident, “I’ve been plenty happy on my own.”

“Stop it with the independent woman crap! You can’t really be happy the way you’re living now. And you’ll wonder how you ever pretended you were, once everything’s out in the open.” 

“Don’t you get it?  Having it out in the open is exactly what I’m afraid of! What will people think once they find out how long we’ve been together?”

“Do ‘people’ live in your house?  Do ‘they’ control your life?”  She held up a hand to stave off any response.  “Let me answer that for you.  No, they do not!  The details you tell ‘people’ is up to you and Jon.  But, yes.  Someday, you might have to tell his kids.” 

It was nice to believe what the public discovered was within her control, but that just wasn’t the case.  “Cara, you forget its public knowledge that I’ve worked every tour since Slippery.”

“So?  People may speculate, but they’ll never have all the facts unless you provide them.”

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle all that,” Ariana sighed.  “Let’s play devil’s advocate.  If I say yes, what happens to Petit Soho? I can’t just expect him to drop everything and move here.”

“If? Don’t you mean when?” her friend inquired pointedly.  “Have you talked this out with Jon? What does he have to say about all of this?”

“Yes, we’ve talked.”

“But you have no faith in him.”

“I trust him with my life.”

Cara snorted rudely.  “Apparently not.”

“He asked me to marry him and to trust him.  I agreed to that.” 

Ariana studied the band on her finger.  Those words symbolized everything they’d been through.  She did believe in them – so much that she had the tattoo to prove it.

Exhaling, she looked up at her friend, “I do want this...him, Cara. I always have.”

Warm hands enfolded Ari’s and Cara squeezed supportively when rationalizing, “Then say ‘yes’.  You’ve been selfless a little too long.” 

“I guess I’m saying yes.”

Cara jumped off the stool, pulling her friend into her arms. “It’s about fucking time! Guess you’re having a wedding.”

“Whoa, don’t get too excited!” Ari laughed, not realizing how much weight that decision would remove from her shoulders.  “I never was the big princess wedding type.”

“Gurl, I don’t care if you get married in a hut wearing a burlap sack. I’m just happy you two will finally be together.”

“Me, too, but let’s just keep this to ourselves for the time being.”

“So, no telling Max?”

Ari tipped her head to one side and smirked.  “It’d be nice if Jon knew first.” 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

Tossing his phone on the desk, Tony leaned on his forearms and stared at the computer screen in front of him.  To anyone watching, it would appear that he was engrossed in his latest editing project, but he was blind to the frozen image on the screen.  He was thinking about Jon and Ariana.

If it wasn’t for their relationship, he and Jon wouldn’t have the relationship they had.  Though there were only four years between them, they hadn’t become truly close until Tony started working for him – and stumbled into one of his and Ari’s intimate moments. 

The promo portions of the Keep the Faith tour had just kicked off, with the band recharged and ready to go.  Tony had arrived at the venue – Toronto’s RPM Warehouse – purposely early.  He wanted to check out the new equipment to ensure everything was set up and working correctly for the show. 

Nobody ever wanted to disappoint a crowd, but that was doubly true in Canada.  The country held so many memories for each of them, and he was about to find out just how special it was to Jon. 

Tony was tinkering with some recording equipment when he heard voices. It was too early for the band, but he was positive it was Jon’s he heard.  Curious as to why his brother was already here, he abandoned his third round of equipment checks to seek him out and ask.

The voices got louder as he got closer to Jon’s dressing room, and Tony could now make out a female voice as well.  That was interesting, but not astonishing.  There were several women on the crew, including the wardrobe mistress.  Maybe they were doing a jacket fitting or something.  That would make sense.

That was the mindset he had when ambling up to the open dressing room door. 

His mindset was wrong. 

It was Ariana in there with Jon, and she was sitting on his lap, getting a lower-back massage.  Not just a friendly “can you rub this knot for me” kind of massage either.  There was an intimacy between the two that reached out into the hallway and smacked Tony in the face. 

To say he was shocked would be an understatement.

He cleared his throat to make his presence known, and the gesture visibly startled them both. Ariana leapt from Jon’s lap and ducked her head as she slid past Tony with a mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

He was upset at first.  He knew his brother wasn’t an angel; none of them were, but this?  This was serious.  Ari wasn’t some random chick with a backstage pass.  She had been around since the beginning. The sister they never had.

He wasn’t sure how Jon could do this. 

When Tony was done delivering his opinion on the scene he’d just witnessed – and ripping Jon a new ass in the process – Jon hadn’t fired back as expected.  He took the time to explain that there was more going on that it appeared, and by the time he was done, Tony had a much clearer understanding of their relationship. 

Tony really was kind of indebted to Ari, since he and his brother had bonded that day.  If Tony hadn’t walked in on that scene and confronted Jon, there might not have been another opportunity for that to happen.

So, no matter what the future held, Ariana would always have his gratitude.

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

It had seemed like a good thing for Ariana to hang out with her friend, but Jon was over the solitude.  Boredom had him looking at his watch.  He calculated that she still wouldn’t be back for a while, so he guessed he’d call Richie. 

Calculating the time difference between Montreal and California – and factoring in his guitarist’s vampire tendencies – it was a safe bet that Rich was at least conscious. 

He tapped the screen and placed the call.   When the phone rang four, then five times, he wondered if he’d miscalculated the other man’s love of sleep.  Jon was expecting it to go to voicemail when a familiar “hello” voice came over the line.

“Hey ol’ man!  What took you so long to answer the phone?”

“Gettin’ nosy in your old age, I see.”  Jon could practically hear the grin. There was soft murmuring, a smack of lips, some movement, and finally… silence. “What’s up?”

“Rich, I need your undivided attention.  Do I have it?”

“You do now. What’s on your mind?”

“What isn’t on my mind?”  He leaned back on the suite’s couch and propped bare feet on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle.  “I’m in Montreal, if that gives you an inkling.”

“Montreal usually means Ari.  She okay?  Are you okay?”

After already telling this story once today, Jon was starting to feel like broken record, “She’s doing better. Lili passed away. As for me, guess you can say I’m good. I asked her to marry me.”

“Whoa.  I was with you up until that last thing.  You what?  Bro, are you sure?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Well, in that case... it’s about fucking time!”

“Tell me about it,” he drawled, bringing up a forearm to rest on top of his head.  “I’ve wanted this for a long time.  You know that.  It was always her holding back.”

“I know, but damn!  She sure waited a long time. What changed her mind?”

“Lili’s passing.  She has no one... no family left.  She still has some reservations   You know, the usual ones.  She’s worried about my image.  The kids.”  The hand above his head flexed mindlessly as he got to the heart of the matter.  “Bottom line is that we love each other.”

“Man, I’m sorry to hear about Lili, but fuck image. You don’t have anything if you don’t have love, and the kids will be fine once they see how happy you are with her.”

“Exactly what I said. Now I just have to survive telling Dottie.”

“Don’t envy you there, brother, even though she ain’t no saint, either.  I wish you the best of luck. One point in your favor is that she’s not the type to make things acrimonious.”

“Nah, she’s not. It’s been a long time coming, and she knows that.  She deserves to be happy just as much as I do, and I just don’t do it for her anymore. I’m sure it will hurt knowing just how long this has been going on, though. It was never my intention to hurt her.”

“Wow man, you’re spilling it all? If you come out with that, she might want to hurt you.” 

“Honestly, I haven’t thought that far, but if I’m coming clean, it might as well be from the beginning.”

“I have no idea how you can soften that blow, but you’re right.” 

“I don’t think I’ll tell her I proposed. Ari doesn’t want to go public just yet.”

“Well, duh. You’re still a married man. Don’t make her feel like she’s being traded in.” 

“Well, when you say it like that…” he chuckled at his friend’s bluntness before moving onto something that was hopefully less dramatic.  “So tell me what you’ve been up to?”

“Met a girl. Well, a woman. I’m really diggin’ her, and we’re seeing how things go.”

That could be very good or very bad, depending upon the woman, but Jon kept that thought to himself. 

“Cool, man.  That’s great! Hope she’s not like your other conquests?”

“She’s not.  We met at a charity event. Last night was our fifth date, and before you ask, I haven’t slept with her.”

“Losing your touch there, Sambora.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Say whatever you wanna, but we’re not rushing into anything. I think it’s a good change.”

“It’s definitely a big change for you, but I hope it works out. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks, man. Her name’s Shira. Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard? And she has this accent that’ll curl your toes. She’s from London.” 

“Geez, are you gonna be like this the whole tour?”

“Fuck you, man,” he retorted mildly.  Richie had given up getting riled by Jon’s shit a lot of years ago. “She is making breakfast as we speak and I am needed.”

“Breakfast and you didn’t even hand over an orgasm? She’s either an alien or she wants something.”

“My presence.” They both laughed. “Listen man, call me if you need me.”

  

“Thanks for letting me babble. I’ll call you in a few days.”