“Hello.”
“Ariana, it's Max.”
Feeling around the bed for Jon, she found the sheets cold and his side of the bed empty.
“Max, everything okay?”
“I wish this was a friendly call. I have some bad news. There was a fire at Petit Soho.”
In an instant she went from half asleep to wide wake. “What? When? Are you alright? Was anyone hurt?”
“I’m fine. No one was hurt. It happened earlier this morning. The fire marshals are here now, trying to figure out where or what started it.”
“Oh, Max. Is it bad?”
An uneasy feeling had settled in her stomach. That bar was her life, her whole life. It was all she had left of her family.
“Not too bad. Lots of water damage, that’s for sure.”
Ariana sighed and ran her free hand through her hair. “I’m gonna come home.”
“Ariana, why don’t you wait? At least till we know more.”
“No. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
This time it was Max who sighed. He knew well enough when he called her, she would want to come home immediately. Maybe he should have waited before he called.
“I will see you when you get here.”
Shaking, Ari scampered around the room, tying her hair in a knot on top of her head. She needed to find Jon, and fast. She needed to get home, and he was the only one to make that happen. The sound of Richie’s laughter coming from the kitchen didn’t stop her from continuing down the hall wearing nothing but Jon’s shirt. Walking into the room, she found Jon and Richie sitting at the island, eating the leftover Chinese food from the containers.
“Afternoon Bella, if this is the greeting I get, I’ll drop by more often.” Richie joked when he saw her standing at the doorway, but when she didn’t even crack a smile, he just tapped Jon’s hand, motioning him to turn around.
As Jon spun the stool around, she ran into his arms and buried her face in his chest. “I need to go home.”
“Hey, hey. What’s this all about?” Cupping her face, he pulled back and looked down at her.
“Max just called. There was a fire at the bar.”
“Aw baby, I’m sorry. How bad is it?”
“He said not bad. Lots of water damage, from what he could tell. The fire marshals are there now. I want to leave as soon as I can. Can I use the plane?”
Richie laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Bella, I’m sorry too. I know how much you love that place.”
“Ari, slow down. Why don’t you wait until you have a full report, then go from there?”
“I don’t want to wait. I want to go now.”
“You don’t even know how big it was or what’s damaged?”
“So, I need to be there.”
“So, it could be nothing.”
“Jon, there was a fire, that’s not nothing, it's something. I want to go home.”
“Ari, I didn’t mean it like that. All I am saying is to wait until the marshals finished their investigation and Max calls you back.”
“Listen, if you won’t help, I’ll make my own arrangements.”
“Whoa. I didn’t say I won’t help. Max is there, why not let him handle things, for now?”
“Listen, Jon, this is my life, my home. I can’t expect Max to do everything for me.”
“Your life and home are here with me now as well. What about what we have going on here? We have dinner with the kids tomorrow, Thanksgiving is next week, and what about your appointment with Dr. Barnes?”
“You’re really gonna go there? We can reschedule dinner. You knew I wasn’t planning to be here for Thanksgiving and as for Dr. Barnes, I will reschedule that too.”
Richie listened quietly and watched. Things had really progressed since he last saw them in London, but he could see this would not go well. He understood Ariana needed to go home, and he was sure Jon wouldn’t stop her, but his friend had never been one to convey his words well, other than in a song.
“Absolutely not. I’m not letting you put off Dr. Barnes. This is one of the reasons I wanted you here.”
The words were out before he knew it, and not the way he wanted them to sound. Ariana’s face slowly flushed red. Her eyes widened and bore into his.
“You fucking asshole! Did you really just say that? I’m not an imbecile, Jon. They have obstetricians in Montreal.”
“Did you ever consider that I’d like to go with you to the appointment? I want to be involved in this with you, and I don’t want you to be stressed out.”
“Ha! Like this is helping with the stress. I’m not saying you can’t be involved, Jon. Come with me, for Christ’s sake! We can reschedule the appointment so you can come, I’m fine with that, but don’t try to control me! I’m not an object that you own or possess, Jon. You can’t keep me from doing what I want, when I want. I’m going home! With or without your help.”
By this time, Richie was feeling incredibly awkward, trying to subtly find a way out of the room, but the only way out was between Jon and Ari. Luckily, he was saved by the trilling of Ariana’s phone. Shooing Jon away, she answered as she stalked back towards the bedroom.
“Hey, Max, any updates?”
Richie couldn’t hear much more than that, though when Jon went to stomp off towards the bedroom he spoke up, “Hey man, don’t go back there. Give her some time.”
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do, Sambora?”
“I’m not telling you what to do man, I’m just giving some advice. She needs some time to calm down. Gathering from that conversation, she’s under a lot of stress that she doesn’t need to be under. Oh, thanks for telling me by the way,” with a baleful stare at his best friend, Richie continued, “my advice to you is just let her have a couple of minutes and then go in there and apologize, you sound a lot like a controlling bastard, which, I know you are, but you don’t need to be like that to her.”
With an exasperated sigh, Jon looked Richie in the eyes and huffed out, “Fine! I’ll give her some time, but man, I’m worried about her. I’m sorry, yes, I’m actually sorry, I didn’t tell you about the pregnancy. We haven’t known for very long. We were going to tell you, but honestly I didn’t think of it.”
“Ah, I’m used to it, ya old fucker. No big deal. I can see that things have changed since last time I was here. I understand now. Go apologize to your woman. Support her and don’t try to control her. Surely you know that much about strong women? After all, they don’t come stronger than Ariana.”
“Tell me about it.” With only a shrug of his shoulders, Jon turned and headed towards the bedroom.
Richie finally let the smirk out he had been hiding. Collapsing onto the sofa, he clicked the television on and settled in for the afternoon. Down the hallway he heard Jon yell, “Oh, and Sambora, wipe that smirk off your face and call the plane in, Ariana is going to Montreal.”
Oh shit, Jon put his foot in his mouth!
ReplyDeleteI hope the isn’t bad @ The bar!
I can’t wait for more!