161 - Big Balls

Arriving in Pennsylvania, Jon learned of Tony and Ariana’s phone conversations. Yes, plural, and he was not happy. Actually, the entire crew and band knew just how unhappy he was as he barked orders right until he stepped foot onto the stage. The show was nothing stellar. Vanilla, as the fans would say. Of course, there was Murphy's law rearing its ugly, causing a few technical issues with the video sync, mics and teleprompter, but nothing the untrained eye or repeat tour goer would notice. 

Despite his earlier mood, Jon seemed to have fun. Maybe the purple glow-in-the-dark dildo that surfaced during the circle segment had something to do with it. Richie sure was amused by it. It even got a smirk from Captain Grouch. The rain held off mostly, with a few drizzles here and there. After the final bows, they were wheels up before the last fan made it out of the stadium.

 

With the time difference, Jon could only let Tony know just how he felt about him calling and involving Ariana. After he specifically told his brother not to. Oh, he knew good and well Tony was not the only one at fault. Nope, Ariana was not a hundred percent innocent, and he had every intention of letting her know just how he felt about it.

 

He was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table, not watching as the images of Baseball Tonight flickered across the wide screen. In one hand he held a glass of wine, the other, his phone. He was waiting for the digital numbers to turn to two a.m. That would make it eight a.m. in Italy. The time Ariana had been sending him good morning texts since he had left.

 

“S’cuse me boss.” Jeanie’s voice startled his closing eyes. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to go to bed.”

 

“You sure you don’t want me to call you a car. I’m sure Kennedy would be happy to see you.”

 

“Nah. It’s okay. She’s probably asleep already. I’ll just go in the morning.”

 

“S’up to you.” Dropping his feet to the floor, he topped off his glass and offered the bottle up to her.

 

“No thanks. So, do you need me for anything else?”

 

“Nah. I’m good.” he paused, remembering there was something he wanted to say to her. Turning, he looked in up at her. “Hey, Jeanie….”

 

“Fahgettaboutit.”

 

Jon couldn’t help but snicker. No matter how hard she tried, she could never get the New Jersey dialect down. “Really, thanks again. For everything.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you don’t owe me.” she gave him a wink and turned towards the guest room, “Goodnight, Boss. Don’t give her too much of a hard time. She loves you. Why? I don’t know.”

 

Jeanie waved off her boss’s open mouth and retreated to the guest room she had called home for the last week. Something told her it would be her home for the foreseeable future or until the doctors gave Ariana the all clear to fly. They had a busy week coming up with foundation business, interviews, and a few promotional dinners involving the opening of the new stadium.

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

Stepping from the shower, Ariana wrapped the oversized towel around her body, then one around her dripping long locks. Today was the day. The day she was breaking free of this prison, she’d called home for the last week or so. Dr. Cummings came through like she said she would and got her clearance to go out. Although she wouldn’t be running any marathons anytime soon, she could go out and walk. Not far to Carmela’s was about as far as she could go, but she’d take that. No more eating in her bed. She had been thinking of what she wanted for breakfast since Nicole knocked on her door last night to give her the good news. Now she hoped that the rest of her roommates were up because she was starving.

 

Slipping the simple, ivory laced maxi dress she loved over her head, she knocked free the towel that held her still damp hair. Not in the mood to bother with the umber-colored locks, she gave them a quick towel and shook them free. The distinct sound of Mick singing Miss You coming from her phone halted her quest for her shoes. Looking at her watch, she wondered what he was doing up at this hour.

 

“Hey babe. What are…” the rude, drunken words that flowed from his mouth interrupted her.

 

“Don't you babe me. You just couldn’t fuckin listen. Could you? Noooooo. Ariana Moretti doesn’t have to listen to anyone. Fuck ‘em. Her life's motto. I will do what I damn well feel like doing.” A few hiccups echoed on the line. “Well, let me tell ya something, sweet cheeks. That day you said, ‘I do’ and signed your name. Well, that made you mine. And that baby is just as much mine as it is yours, and if the fucking doctors tell you to sit and not work, then that is just what you are going to do. Do you understand me? If I have to have Dr. Cummings glue your fat, stubborn ass to the fucking chair, I will.”

 

Ariana couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was drunk, but his callous, vindictive words were totally uncalled for. Drunk or not. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled before she spoke. 

 

“You arrogant sonofabitch. You better make sure you have your ears on, cause I'm only gonna say this once. Not now. Not ever. Will you own me. Where do you come off thinking just because I married your sorry ass that I was now one of your possessions is beyond me."

 

"Oh, but you are..."

 

"Ha. I can't tell if you're really drunk or really stupid. But I can tell you, you are walking on thin ice, mister. I did nothing wrong. It was a fucking phone call."

 

"Trrreeee". he slurred and held up three fingers, as if she could see him. 

 

"Who cares if it was 20. I wasn't climbing the damn rafters."

 

"Same difference. Your orders were NO work, and I expected you to follow them. Not go behind my back and scheme with my brother."

 

"Oh, dear lord. You have lost your bloody mind. Maybe we should end this now and wait till you get your head out of your ass."

 

"My ass is right where it belongs, planted on my fucking couch and where yours belongs. So, let me tell you this, as of now you are no longer an employee of Bon Jovi Management. Any contact with any of its employee is now a violation and breach of contract, which you so happily signed. If you contact anyone, Tony included, you will hear from my lawyers."

 

Carol and Nicole heard the yelling coming from Ariana's room and went to see who she could be yelling at at this hour. 

 

"Guess that means you too, you fucking genius. Why don't you talk to someone who actually gives a shit?"  

 

With that, Ariana shoved the phone in Carol's face and stormed out the door. Dr. Cummings chased behind her. 

 

"Ariana! Ariana! Wait a minute." She called after her as she went down the hall and out the front door. When she reached the bottom of the cobblestone stoop, Ariana turned and looked at the good doctor. 

 

"I think you need to call your boss. I was just informed it's a breach of contract to speak with any persons employed by his sorry ass. That means you too."

 

"What on green earth are you talking about?"

 

"As per Jon. I am no longer an employee, which means I can't speak to you. You'll need to take it up with him. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to have breakfast. Please let Carol know where I am."

160 - Build Me Up

May 19, 2010

Hershey, PA: Hershey Stadium

Show # 35

 

Hershey, Pennsylvania — chocotopia of happiness. Right? More like hell no. Everything that could possibly go wrong was doing so ten folds. It was the first date of the stadium's leg of the tour and using the new stage. Bigger stage, bigger equipment, bigger problems, all of which are expected on a tour of this caliber. It was a good thing they tested it all out before loading it up and heading home to the New Meadowlands Stadium next week. And where better to give it a dry run than in the state where they built the stage.

 

Hershey Park stadium was not one of the better stadiums they've played but it was most definitely not the worst. It was a good thing Tony had met the crew and buses up there the day before to oversee the building of the new stage and to make sure his equipment and screens were being set up correctly. The first five technical rehearsals found numerous glitches. The weather wasn’t cooperating, muggy with sporadic raining. Toss in a couple of hot-headed Italians and a missing roadie extraordinaire, and you have a recipe for a headache the size of Texas and pounded harder than the Hitman himself. All this, and Jeanie and Jon hadn’t even left New Jersey.

 

Three days ago, Jeanie met Jon in Teterboro and had not left his side since. With what had transpired over his last few days and him having to leave a very pregnant Ariana in Italy with his mother, she had prepared for his off-kilter moodiness, but this, this was a whole new level, even for the CEO himself. 

After a trip to the city to check on the kids and assure them that their stepmother and baby sister were fine, she had to literally step in between him and Dorothea and drag his sorry ass out of the penthouse. From there, they headed back to the Jersey house where they had been holed up ever since.

 

Jon’s bark, a harmless one at best, gradually worsened over the course of those days, and he was in full-blown dickhead mode. Not something she needed on show days, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Her morning started when she had come in from her morning jog along the river and could hear Jon yelling down the hall. At whom the recipients of the day, she wasn’t sure. But from his tone and infliction, he wasn’t happy, that was for sure. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she headed straight towards the rumbling sound of his voice. Walking into his office just in time to hear him telling Matt to handle the shit himself or to call her.  

 

Geez, just what she needed, more stuff to do.

 

“Nice of you to show up for work today?” Jon spat, tossing his phone on the desk.

 

“Morning to you too, buttercup. Since when do I work for Matt now?”

 

“Since he can’t find his dick with both hands.”

 

“And how’s that my problem?” she snapped.

 

Ten years working side by side with this man had earned her a little more than the usual boss - assistant rhetoric, that’s for sure. They respected each other, but she let him know early on that she would not be treated like a doormat. Before he had a chance to answer her, his phone was ringing again. This time it was Tony, and from what she could tell, he was bitching about the specs for the new stage and video screens. Something about them not configured the way he originally drew them up and between the weather and him being short one crew member, Ariana, it was making his life difficult. He was calling Jon to find out if he could call her and see if she could walk him through what he was having trouble with.

 

“ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY NOT, Ton. She needs to rest. Not have you calling, asking her to help.” Jeanie watched as he paced between the desk and piano, one hand on the phone, the other pulling at the crown of his hair. “For fuck's sake, you know damn well if I let you call her. She will get stressed if she can’t help. Figure it out yourselves. Not the first time you had to erect a fucking stage without her.”

 

Ah, two words that shouldn’t be in the same sentence. Ariana and erect.  

 

Not when her fearless leader, well more like her whining, pouting, stay the fuck out of my way, wishing I was in Italy getting laid boss was wound up tighter than one of his designer watches. All the years she’d worked for him, this was the worst she’d seen him. Knowing this call was far from over, she grabbed her laptop and returned to the kitchen. From the way things were going, water would not cut it. Coffee. Strong and black, is what she needed.

 

“Hey, Jeanie.” Jon walked into the kitchen and found her standing over the island. “Can you help me pound one out? I figured, you being a lesbian and all, it wouldn’t be considered cheating.”

 

“Sure Bill, and when we're done, we can go back to these Soul Kitchen contracts.” Lifting her eyes from the stack of papers she was reading through, she was met with his trademark smirk.

 

“Exactly.”  

 

Having enough of his mood, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shoved him into the adjacent wall. “I know you’re all kinds of tense right now, but you need to get a grip.”

 

Jon couldn’t help but grin. If it had been anyone other than Jeanie, or maybe Ari or his mother, he’d have thrown them across the room by now. But she knew him. Always kept him in check, and he rarely saw this side of her. God, he loved a strong woman.

 

“Oh my God, Jon! Wipe that grin off your face and just go take care of it so we can stop walking on eggshells! Seriously! Do you need me to draw you a map? GO!”

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

“Yeah. Yeah. I can see it now. Looks like one side of the wheel isn’t rotating enough. Move it again.” Ariana stared into her laptop screen as Tony maneuvered the remote joystick for the robotic camera. “And your sure tracks are level?"

"For the twenty-eleventh time, yes."

"Okay, okay. I was just making sure.” 

 

She and Tony had been at this for the last hour, going over every probable scenario as to why the damn thing wouldn’t move. There was one last thing she could think of, an ancient family secret, sorta.  

 

“I know you tried greasing the ball bearings, but I want you to try one more thing. It’s going to sound bizarre, but trust me, I’ve seen it work. My father taught me this trick. You’re gonna have to clean and dry off everything really good. Tracks and ball bearings. Then I want you to get some olive oil."

"Say what?"

"Yes, olive oil. Trust me, I’ve seen it work. You’ll need to put it in a spray bottle. Once everything is dry, I want you to re spray everything.”

 

“Didn’t we just do that with the W-D40?”

 

 Yes.” she sighed. “It’s like using W-D40, but better. Well, at least my father thought so.”

 

“What are you doing?” Startled by the female voice, Ariana turned to see Dr. Cummings propped against the doorjamb, her arms folded against her chest.

 

“Um, Tony, I’m gonna have to call you back. Yeah, okay. Try that and let me know. Ciao.”

 

Ending her call with her brother-in-law, Ariana tossed her phone and her laptop onto the bed. “Nicole, what a surprise?”

 

“Oh, I bet. What were you doing?”

 

“Nothing, just helping Tony. What are you doing here?”

“Jon thought it would be a good idea for me to be here, and I can see why.”

 

“Oh, please.” Ariana huffed as she lowered herself down on the bed. “I wasn’t doing anything I’m not supposed to.”

 

“You were working.” Dr. Cummings crossed the room and took a seat in the rocking chair Ariana had vacated.

 

“Was not! I was sitting in a chair, exactly what I am supposed to be doing and have been doing and talking to Tony.”

 

“About work.”

 

“So? It’s not like I was there pushing the damn camera myself. Is that why Jon sent you to spy on me?”

 

“No, it isn’t. He figured you would be at your wit's end by now and figured if I was here, maybe we could do a little more than sit in bed. But now I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Can I speak honestly?”

 

“I expect nothing less.”

 

“Ariana, I’ve watched you for the last month or so and you can’t sit still. It’s not in your nature. I am afraid that if I give you an inch, you will take six.”

 

“Nicole, I can’t change who I am, and Jon is well aware of that. I can tell you this, this baby means more to me than anything in the world, and I won’t let anything happen to her. But by keeping me in a bed with nothing to do isn’t helping either. It’s just a different stress and the stress of that is not good either.”

 

“You have a point.”  

 

“Besides, it was just a phone call.”

 

“You mean it was the only one you got caught making.”

 

“Actually, it was the first. I’m not going to lie and say I’m going a little nuts. One can only take so much Italian television and card games. I’m not asking to run a triathlon.”

 

“Okay, let me look over the latest doctor's notes and see if we can come up with a compromise of some sort.” 

 

“Thank you!” Ariana sighed.

 

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m certain it won’t be much. Maybe just a brief walk outside for fresh air. Nothing more.”

 

“I’m fine with that. Anything more than these four walls would be a welcome change.”

 

Pushing herself off of the chair, Dr. Cummings crossed the room just as Ariana’s phone rang. Shaking her head, she silently slipped from the room. She knew when Jon called her about going to Italy, it would not be a walk in the park, but she at least thought she would have some time to have to deal with something like this.

159 - Never Say Goodbye

"Stay!" 

She caught his wrist as one last ditch effort in stopping him, yet again. She didn't want him to go. Who would be her rock? Who would be there if something went wrong? It was him. Always him. If she held on to him a few minutes longer, maybe she would open her eyes and this whole thing would be a dream. 

 

It had taken a few tries, but they were able to get her contractions under control and forty-eight hours after arriving at the hospital, they sent her home with new meds and strict orders. One of which — no flying. At least not in the foreseeable future. To say that restriction put more than a few kinks into their life was the understatement of the year. The first leg of the US/Canadian Stadium shows started on the nineteenth with a show in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and ended with the three New Meadowland shows. Not to mention his other commitments. He hated to leave her. He spent countless hours talking with the doctors here, as well as Dr. Barnes, Dr. Laurent and Dr. Cummings, and they all agreed on one thing; Ari should not, could not, and would not travel. Neither of them was exactly happy, but Ariana was having more of a hard time with it. 

 

"Crash. I gotta go. The car is waiting."

 

"I can't do this."

 

"Yes, you can. And you will." His hands flanked their child growing inside her. "Lily needs you too, and if there is anything I know and love about you, it's your infinite love and protectiveness to those you love."

 

"I'm so scared."

 

With the back of his knuckle, he nudged her chin up. Iridescent pools of green looked back at him. Killing him. With every blink, he watched her tears break from the corner of her eyes. One lone, scared tear at a time. Given what happened to her mother, he often thought about something arising, but never something such as this. Him having to leave her and as much as he was scared too; he had to be the stronger one. 

 

"Trust me, I get it. She's my mother, and she still scares the bejeezus out of me." he tried to make light of the mood, maybe get her to smile, but it wasn't working.  

 

After the first round of meds didn't help, he immediately called his mother. One, even though he was this big rock star persona, he was still just a kid from New Jersey, and he was scared. Two, she was the only person besides Ari he could talk to about it. It took less than a heartbeat for Carol to tell him she was on her way and would be on the first plane he could get chartered for her. Carol may not have liked how things transpired between her son- and daughter-in-law, but that didn't stop her from liking Ariana. She was one of them now and when one of them needed something, the Bongiovi's came together. 

 

Smiling, he wiggled four fingers at her. "Listen, four shows. That's it." 

 

Ariana pried up his pinky up and held up her two hands. "Fifteen days. Do you know how much could go wrong in fifteen days?"

 

"Nothing is going to go wrong. Not as long as you do what you're supposed to do. Ma is here and I'm just a plane ride away."

 

"Eight hours isn't close."

 

"No, but that's why Mom's here and if you want, fly Cara here, too. Whatever you want. It's yours."

 

"I want you..."

 

He hushed her with his lips. They could go back and forth over this a zillion times, and the results would still be the same. Him leaving her. Pulling away from the kiss, he fell to one knee and kissed her belly. 

 

"Baby girl, don't you be giving your mama a hard time. Ya hear me. We need you to hang out inside a little bit longer. Can you do that for daddy?" Three little kicks caught his lips. "That's my girl. Daddy loves you."

 

Ariana let out a soft laugh at the sound of him smooching her belly and again at his puckered duck lips he presented to her when he rose. Doing the same, she met his lips with hers and pressed their foreheads together. "Love you."

 

"Back at you, Crash. It's gonna be alright."

 

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

Two hours had passed since Jon left and Ariana still hadn't left their bedroom. She couldn't bear to walk him to the door, so they said their see you later's, not goodbyes. She hated that word, then watched from the window as the car drove down the cobblestone street. The minute she couldn't see it anymore, she climbed into bed with one of his shirts wrapped around her forearms and hands. She had just pulled the covers over her head when her phone chimed. If not for the familiar tone, she would have let it be. 

 

Now she felt the smile grow as she reread their conversation from earlier and Jon's sad attempts at emojis. The first text had come as soon as she had climbed into bed earlier and continued till Vicky gave him the shutdown warning, made him turn off his phone. 

 

[6:22] Jon: lucky I have more than one black tee. 

 

[6:23] Ari: lol. Not wearing it. It doesn't fit. 

 

[6:25] Jon: Doubtful. Bet it fits just riiiiight.😋

 

She was in the middle of typing a response when he sent another warning her not to even go where he knew she would; he said this conversation would not be full of sadness, but instead it was going to be F. U. N..... just like the one they had had while he was in that long boring meeting when he sold the Philadelphia Soul. That made her laugh even more. She was drunk, horny and happy in love with him. Now she would kill for the first two. 

 

[6:36] Jon: Sooo show me your titties?

 

[6:38] Ari: Show me yours

 

[6:41] Jon: you can google mine. I'll beg...

 

[6:43] Ari: will you get down on your knees

 

[6:44] Jon: you like when I'm on my knees

 

[6:46] Ari: Well... You are mighty talented when you're on them 

 

[6:48] Jon: it's all in the 👅😜

[6:50] Ari: OMG, did you just google yourself?

[6:51] Jon: fuck no. Going through my emails. I’m a multitasker baby. Now where are my titties?

[6:52] Ari: you first ❤

 

6:53] Jon: I gave it to you. T-n-T. Tongue and titties.

 

[6:55] Ari: not even close. You don’t see mine till I see yours.😉

 

[7:05] Jon: 

Ari caught herself laughing out loud once again as she looked at his choice of pictures. She had wondered what had taken him so long to send a photo, but when it finally came through, she knew why. He had googled himself. At first, she thought she would call him out on that, but decided a good teasing would be more fun. She untangled herself from the sheets, adjusted her shirt, snapped a photo.

 

[7:10] Ari: Hey. That’s my shirt.

There was a soft knock at the door before it opened slowly. "Ariana, dear. Dinner is here." Carol's blonde hair peered around the door first, followed by the rest of her. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

 

"No. No. I was just reading something." Ari clicked off her phone and placed it on the nightstand. 

 

"Did you hear from Jon?"

 

"Yes. He took off about," Ari glanced at the grandfather clock on the wall. "Two hours ago. Have I really been in here that long?"

 

"I didn't want to disturb you. I figured you needed some time after he left, but it's late and you really should eat something."

 

"We were texting till the plane took off. Then I got distracted reading some of what we talked about." Ariana bowed her head. 

 

"He loves you. You know that?"

 

"With all my heart. It's just..."

 

Carol crossed the room and took a seat on the bed. "You're scared and I'm not him."

 

"That has nothing to do with it. I'm very grateful you are here. None of this was supposed to happen this way. Maybe if I had just listened to him in the first place and not pushed to work or even planned this stupid trip. None of this would have happened."

 

"Nonsense. You did nothing wrong." Carol stretched her hand out to touch Ariana’s stomach. "May I?" She nodded. "My granddaughter is a Bongiovi and a Moretti. If she wanted to make an early appearance, she would have done it whether you were here or Timbuktu. She’s just like her daddy and wanted a little attention. Now that she's got it, she knows what she needs to do. And as long as you continue to do what the doctors want you to do, everything will be alright."

 

Ariana sighed, "How do you do that?"

 

"Do what?"

 

"Know just what to say. My grandmother used to do that too."

 

"You will learn, too. Now what do you say we eat? Carmela sent a delightful meal."

158 - Stop!! In The Name of Love

Jon couldn't sleep. He was too worried. Ariana had another cramp during dinner and two more since they got home. And again, she shrugged them off - claiming they were nothing but cramps from a combination of all the walking they had been doing and that she was tired. Still not satisfied with that, he ordered her to shower and go straight to bed, and she did. No fight, no smartass remarks about telling her what to do. She just went straight to bed, no questions asked, which, to be honest, caused him more than a little concern. He was on the road for a good portion of Dorothea's four pregnancies and missed a lot of these little things and had nothing to compare it too. Once she was settled and sleeping, he pulled the chair closer to the bed, so he could keep an eye on her, and fired up her laptop.  

He started with the obvious, third trimester pregnancy ABC’s. He found the typical your baby's the size of a large cabbage. Their living quarter was growing tight, yadda, yadda, yadda. His next search he added some of her symptoms. That's where things got interesting and worrisome. That search brought up a slew of things he could choose from. Reputable pregnancy sites such as; Babycenter.com, Whattoexpect.com, and Parents.com- not to mention the umpteen personal blogs and journals. Clicking every link, he skimmed each article, and everything so far seemed to be consistent with what she had been feeling all day. 

 

It was when he came upon an article about Preterm Labor from the American Pregnancy Association that he became more alarmed. The day’s events and her grimacing cries had him calling the driver and requested him to come back to the house to wait outside. He also called Carmela for hospital suggestions. Braxton Hicks, my ass, he thought. Those happen sporadically. But in the last forty-six minutes, she had three. Each one growing more intense, that he could tell. One more and he wasn’t taking any chances. They would be off to the hospital.

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

His fingers drummed impatiently while he waited as the asinine intern typed in Ariana's information. Seriously. What was taking him so long? He needed to get back there with her and see what was going on. She had two more in the car, making that six in an hour. Something didn't seem right, and the look of panic in her eyes as they whisked her away in a wheelchair was just....

 

"Are you done yet? My wife needs me." 

 

More like he needed his wife. He knew she was in excellent hands with all the doctors. She hadn't been back there all that long. Since she became pregnant, she kept a folder of her medical records and personal information for when they traveled. She had given the triage nurse what he needed and taken the rest with her. For the love of God, he didn't know what could take so long for him to type in what he needed. 

 

"If you could just sign...." Snatching the paper from his hand, he scribbled as if he was signing for some fan who intruded on his personal time. Annoyed, he tossed down the pen. "NOW! Can I go?"

 

Jon didn't wait for him to answer. He simply followed the corridor they took Ariana down and through the double doors. On the other side of the doors was another corridor that led him to a circular wing with a nurse’s station in the middle. He could hear the beeping sounds of machines coming from the rooms as he looked for someone to help him. 

 

"Jon." Immediately turning at the sound of her voice, he sought out which room it came from. Lying in bed, he could see she had an IV, a monitor hooked up to her, and a monitor strapped across her abdomen. When she looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes had him crossing the room in three strides. 

 

"Jon, I'm so scared. They say I'm having contractions. Lily can't come now, it's too early." 

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her in his arms to try to calm her. Now that she started crying, the machines beeped even more now. "Where are the doctors?" he smoothed her hair. "I want to talk to them."

 

"No. Don't. Go." She squeezed him tighter. 

 

"Shh... Shh. I'm not going anywhere."

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat drew their attention to the door where a man in his late sixties, wearing a white coat, was entering the room. He introduced himself as Dr. Rispino, head of the Obstetrics department and the one who would oversee Ariana's care. He explained that Ariana was, in fact, having contractions. About six to seven minutes apart. The monitor hooked to her stomach showed that although they were close, they weren't all that intense. 

 

A nurse entered the room pushing a portable ultrasound machine to which Dr. Rispino took the doppler and began moving over Ariana's stomach. He explained he was looking at how strong the baby's heartbeat was, along with her measurements. Once he found them, he rattled them off to the nurse, who wrote them down on a pad. Next, he explained he needed to do an internal examination to make sure she wasn't dilating. He warned her it would not be pleasant, but it needed to be done. Lying back, she placed her feet into the stirrups and clasped Jon's hand between hers. She even cried out as the doctor examined her. At this point, she lost all dignity, and she didn't care. She just wanted her little girl to be safe and healthy. 

 

When Dr. Rispino finished, he gave the nurse some instructions and turned his attention back to Jon and Arianna. "Mrs. Bongiovi." he said with a thick Italian accent. "Your contractions are four minutes apart. You are twenty-five percent effaced and one percent dilated. Though this is not good at this stage in your pregnancy, it isn't too bad. I will start you on magnesium sulfate to help stop the contractions. This will go through your IV. It's the quickest way. However, there are some side effects. Sweats, headaches, rapid heartbeat were the milder ones, you could possibly hallucinate and have some burning sensations." 

 

She and Jon both agreed that anything they tried would be worth dealing with, if it meant stopping the contractions. He was also going to do a fibronectin test to determine if she would deliver within the next two weeks. Another test that wasn't always accurate. She would receive one last shot to help with the development of the baby's lungs, just in case she did indeed deliver this soon. 

 

The nurse returned with all the medication. As she administered each one, she explained to Ariana and Jon their purpose. When she got to the magnesium, she warned Ari what she might feel, and she wasn't wrong. The minute she pushed the needle into the IV, Ariana felt her veins burn. She became hot from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She felt as if she was on fire and the devil himself was crawling through her veins. The nurse left and returned with a few ice packs, which she placed behind Ariana's neck, behind her knees and one each for her wrists. She told them she would be back to check on her in a little bit. 

 

"Hang tight, Lily. We’ll get through this." Jon whispered against her belly. 

 

"Yes, we will. As much as we want you here with us, it's too soon. Besides, you need to wait till we get to Canada." Ari moved her hand from the ice pack to her stomach. "Oooh. C'mon Lily. Settle down."

 

"Was that another one?"

 

"Yeah."

 

 Jon looked at his watch. "Okay. Tell me when you feel the next."

 

"Everything happened so fast. Did you call back home to let them know what is going on?"

 

"Not yet. I wanted to see what the doctors had to say."

 

"I'm pretty sure I'm here for the night. Observation and all. You should at least call your mother."

 

"You trying to get rid of me?" he said jokingly. 

 

"Nope. I just know you. And sitting here, helpless, is driving you insane. Go. Call your mom. I'll be fine."

 

"You forget who you're talking to, missy. You’re just as coo-coo as me. I'm staying put until..." Ari squeezed his hand and bit down on her lower lip, "Another?" He asked, looking at his watch.

 

"How long?" She took a few deep breaths.

 

"Four minutes, still. I'm going to get the nurse. Dont'cha be going anywhere on me now."  

 

Slipping from the room, Jon looked to his left, then his right, until he spotted who he was looking for, leaving Ariana to have a few moments to herself. Placing both hands on each side of her stomach, she began moving her hands in a small circular motion. 

 

"Oh, my sweet Lily, I need you to do mommy a huge favor. Can you slow it down in there? Okay. I waited my entire life to allow myself to want you. I'm scared. Scared that if you come too soon, something bad will happen. Scared that this is some sort of punishment for all the things I've done with my life. I want you more than anything I ever wanted, I swear. So please just chill for a little bit longer."

 

"Who ya talking to?" Jon walked into the room, with the nurse and the doctor behind him. 

 

The doctor went over to the machine, which was monitoring Ari's contraction, as the nurse injected two more syringes into her IV. One she knew immediately was magnesium, as she felt the familiar hot rush throughout her body. "What else did you give me?"

 

"Terbutaline." replied the doctor as he made his way to her bedside. "You'll be staying the night. You're still having contractions fairly close together, though not as strong. I want to get them regulated before I release you and send you home."

 

"Then I can have Dr. Barnes keep a watchful eye on me."

 

"No, I'm sorry. You didn't quite understand me. Mrs. Bongiovi, you can't travel back to the States. For the time being, you are on the no-fly list and on bed rest."