6 - It's Just Me

Jon wasn’t sleeping worth a damn, so he tossed the covers off and swung his feet to the floor to grab his phone.  Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found it was two in the morning.  The phone went back to the nightstand with a restless sigh and leaned over to the heap of denim on the floor, pulling the jeans up without bothering to fasten the button.  There was no dress code on the terrace, and he grabbed his smokes and a lighter to go straddle the chaise lounge.

He lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, the red tip glowing bright as he stared out into the darkness and thought about Lili Leblanc. 

She was one of the most amazing, generous women he had ever met.   Not in the beginning thought because it took her some time to warm up him.  He understood why.  His relationship with Ariana wasn’t what anyone might call traditional, but it had worked for them – so far.   

Taking another drag of his cigarette, his thoughts circled back to what really had him tossing and turning.

Ariana. 

He knew she couldn’t be taking this well, and the thought of her out there trying to deal with it.  Alone. 

Where could she be?  Better yet, why the hell hasn’t she called me?

Throughout their twenty-five years of friendship, they were always there for one another.  If not for her, he would not have survived those grueling months during the Slippery and New Jersey tours. 

Then there was Rio, when they surrendered to the feelings that they had both been harboring for some time.  It was a big step for them both, and one he’d had to convince Ariana to take.  Yes, they had had some rough patches over the years, but they always managed to come back to each other.

He’d made a point to be there when she needed him.  Hadn’t he dropped everything when her father had a heart attack?  He’d spent a week with her, both of them sleeping by Sal’s hospital bed until there was nothing more the doctors could do.  He’d held her hand while she said goodbye.

They had a history, and that’s why he was so frustrated she hadn’t called him the minute she heard the news.  Running a hand through his hair, he reached for his phone, pulled up her contact and tapped the screen.

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

Fly me to the moon

Let me swing among those stars

Let me see what spring is like

On Jupiter and Mars

From a great distance, the familiar ringtone filtered through the fog of her sleep and had Ariana jolting from her dreams.  She didn’t let herself think when patting around on the tousled bed.  She just picked up the phone, pressed “Accept” and held it to her ear… waiting. 

“Hello?..... Hel-lo?...... Ari?.....  Baby, are you there?”

The sound of his voice brought a wave of emotions that came crashing down like a torrential sea, and she tried to speak through the uncontrollable sobs. 

“Oh Jonny, she’s gone! My Mamie! How could she… I didn’t get to say good-bye...  They are all gone now. I am all alone. There is no one left but me.”

Jon’s chest tightened when he heard her weeping bitterly, his mind racing back to an eerily similar conversation when her father passed away.  But this one held a sharper edge – an edge of desperation and despair that scared the hell out of him.   

He tried to remain calm as he spoke.

“Babe, listen to me.  You are not alone.  I’m here.  Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.  Promise.” 

Taking a drag on a newly lit cigarette, Jon paced the terrace as he waited for her to answer.

All she heard were the words they’d both spoken before.  Tonight, they were empty and pierced her aching heart even more.

The more she cried, the more her speech became incoherent. 

“But, you... are... not... heeere.  You’re somewheeere... around the world... Not with me... You... are... with... your... family... I... have... noooo... family... anymooore.”

“Dammit, Ari!  LISTEN to me!” He didn’t want to yell, but he needed her to focus on what he was saying. “I’m here! In Montreal. Just tell me where you are, so I can get to you!”

With the state she was in, it took her a couple of seconds to register what Jon had just said.  She had to concentrate to remember exactly where she was before answering.

“I am heeere tooo.  Ouuuur place.  Please, baby.  I need you.”

“SHIT!  Ari, baby, are you at the Saint-James?  What room?” Jon waited for an answer, but there was none.  Not even the sound of her crying anymore. 

“Ari, baby.  Ariana?  Jesus Christ, answer me!”  He called to her over and over with no response. 

Now frantic, Jon hung up and dialed again, but it went straight to her voice mail.  Warning bells were clanging like fire alarms in his head. He had to find out where she was.

Over the years, he had seen her in all kinds of states – both physically and mentally – but this time he was really worried about her. 

Running to the room phone, he pressed the button for the front desk.

Answer the fucking phone!

Patience not being one of his strong points, Jon hung up and tried again.

Doesn’t anyone work in this fucking place?

Not able to wait anymore, Jon was out the door before he had a chance to pull his shirt completely over his head or put on shoes.  He raced down the corridor and pounded the elevator button frantically, willing the doors to open.  As soon as they did, he was inside the car stabbing furiously at those buttons.

Come on man. Hurry the fuck up!

When the elevator touched down in the lobby, he was out the door and at the front desk before they’d slid completely apart.

“Excuse me. Do you have an Ariana Moretti registered?”

“Good evening Sir.  Let me check. Yes, we do.”

“Can I have her room number please?”

“Sir, it is our policy not to give out other guest’s room number."

“Listen fucker, I don’t give a rat’s ass what your policy is.  I know she’s here.  I need that room number, and I need it NOW!”  This was one of the rare occasions he felt compelled to play the celebrity card.  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“As a matter of fact, I do not, and it quite frankly wouldn’t make a difference.”  Even though he wasn’t familiar with Jon or his famous stink-eye, the man at the desk realized maybe that was not a good choice of words by the look Jon shot him.

“The way I see it...” Furious blue eyes dropped to the employee name tag. “Alexandre, is it?  You have two choices here. One, you could give me her room number, and I’ll be on my merry way, or two, you can call security to escort me through the hotel while I BANG ON EVERY FUCKING DOOR TILL I FIND HER!  Am I making myself clear?”

Jon’s yelling resonated throughout the lobby, causing the manager to appear and excuse Alexandre.

After Jon calmly explained why it was imperative to have Ari’s room number, a security guard appeared to escort him up to her room.  For precautionary reasons, they knocked once.  Upon receiving no answer, the guard proceeded to open the room with his key.   It was barely unlocked before Jon pushed his way in, calling her name while running through the darkened rooms. 

When he reached the dimly lit bedroom, it was to find Ariana weeping on the bed.  The place reeked of booze, which went a long way toward explaining her incoherent state.  She’d drunk herself into a stupor, but it didn’t stop him from being at her side in three swift strides. 

Cupping her tear-ravaged face in his hands, Jon pleaded for her to open her eyes and see that he was really there.  When she did, Ariana clung to him as if he were her only lifeline and she couldn’t let go.

Gentle kisses peppered the crown of her head as Jon tenderly rocked them both.  Her upper body heaved as she sobbed in agony, crying like her heart had been wrenched from her body. 

“Shhh…. Shhh…. Baby, it’s okay.” he soothed her with a gentle touch. “Let it all out. I’m here now.  I won’t leave you.”

They scooted onto the mattress, so that they could lie in one another’s embrace.  Each was equally afraid to let the other go, although for different reasons, and they didn’t.  They held one another as Jon sang softly to her. 

Ariana let the soothing sound of his voice ease her weary body, as he sang their song.  Her song.

He had come for her, just like he said he would. 

She buried her face into the warmth of his chest, letting his familiar musky scent, his strength and tenderness envelope her.

She was home.

He continued to sing until he heard the soft whimpering sounds fade to the silence that indicated she was asleep.

Pulling a blanket over her, Jon watched Ariana as she slept.  It was as if he was afraid to close his eyes. Afraid if he did, she wouldn’t be there when he woke up.  He couldn’t stand the thought of it, and considering how much thinking he’d been doing the last few hours…

With a single tear rolling down his face, Jon came to a decision.  It was something he should have done years ago, but he supposed it was better late than never.

Now all he had to do was convince Ariana.    

The first signs of dawn were peeking through the curtains when Jon finally allowed his eyes to close. 

“I love you, Ariana Moretti.”