164 - Dear Asshole

S’alright. I’m not always an angel, but let’s face it, being an angel is overrated. 

 

The black SUV slowly pulled up to the curb in front of Jeanie’s SoHo apartment. Turning to her two cohorts, she grinned wickedly and told them that the night was too young and she was not ready to turn into a pumpkin just yet. 

 

 “We should go for a nightcap.” She suggested.

 

At first, Jon was dead set against the idea. Tomorrow was a big business day for all of them, and some of them were already feeling no pain. Going out for more drinks would not be a good idea for any of them, but Jeanie wouldn’t let it rest, and the debate between boss and assistant went back and forth. After a few moments, Richie opened his big mouth and joined Team Jeanie. With it now two against one, the great Jon Bon Jovi was not going down as this ship’s party pooper. So off to Cipriani’s it was.

 

Pino, the maitre’d, greeted them at the door and informed them that there was a sizeable party of women inside, which didn’t surprise them. Any time there was a show in the tri-state area, fans would show up at places they had frequented, hoping to get a chance glimpse of the band. Pino suggested he set up one of the tables out front, but they declined. The weather was too hot and humid to sit outside. Taking their chances, they opted to sit at the bar instead. There were three stools available at the end closest to the door, in case a quick getaway was warranted. 

 

It didn’t take long to be recognized. First the whispers started, then some slowly worked up the courage to approach them for a few autographs and photos. And what was supposed to be three friends out for a nightcap soon turned into a couple hours of drinks, and lots of laughs with some overzealous, overly handsy fans.  

 

Funny, it was Jeanie who was the first to cry uncle, claiming she would be the one to have to save their sorry asses in the morning. Declining their offer to see her home, she waved Jon and Richie goodbye and left them drowning in the alcohol and giggling women.  

 

The flickering of house lights meant they had closed the place down and it was time to go. Bidding adieu to the entourage that had formed around them, Jon gave Pino the thumbs up as they headed out the door. Light bulbs flashed as they were greeted by a few paparazzi who were informed they were there. Instead of being annoyed, they playfully hammed it up for the cameras for a few minutes.

 

“Where the fuck’s the car?” Jon slurred.

 

“Dumb ass, you let Jeanie take it.”

 

“Shit. That’s right.” Rubbing his brow, Jon thought for a moment. “I have an idea.” he said as he stepped off the curb and hailed a cab. 

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

“Sssshhh!” Jon loudly hushed his compadre. “You’re gonna wake everyone up!”  

 

“Well, fucktard. You ain’t opening that door with the key upside down.” Snatching the key, he hip checked Jon, “get outta the way, you drunken idiot.”

 

“O-kay pot.” 

 

Squinting, Richie bent far enough, so he was eye level with the keyhole and slid the key in nice and slow.

 

“Soooo sexy.” Jon laughed. “Hope that’s not how you look when you’re sliding your dick into some chick?”

 

Richie didn’t bother looking up, “Said the man who ain’t getting any pussy. Straight or lesbian, for that matter.”

 

“Jesus H. Christ. Drop it, will ya.”

 

“No can do, amigo. You ain’t livin’ this one down. Not for a long time.”

 

“What-ehv-aa…” There was a rustling noise on the other side of the door. “Oooops. See, I told you to be….”

 

Just then, the door flung open, making them both straighten up and step back a few steps. Standing on the other side of the door, with her hand on its edge, was a very annoyed Dorothea.

 

“What the heck are you two imbeciles doing here at this hour?”

 

“Uh. Umm..., hm.” Slapping Jon’s shoulder, Richie fumbled for words, “It was all his idea.”

 

Not wanting to do this in the hallway, Dorothea stepped aside so the two of them could come in. Not knowing quite what to do, Richie just stood there while Jon continued into the living room and plopped his ass in the oversized leather chair.

 

“Excuse me.” Dorothea tugged on the belt of her robe. “What do you think you are doing?” 

 

“Sitting.” Jon said smugly.

 

“Why exactly are you here?”

 

“We’re too drunk to go home. We uh…” He hesitated at the lasers shooting from her eyes, “were just gonna crash here?”

 

“Over my dead body.”

 

“C’mon. Don’t be a bitch. Rich can have the guest room and I can sleep in my parents’ old room.”

 

“You gave up your right to sleep here months ago.”

 

“Dad?” The sleepy sound of Romeo’s voice from the top of stairs brought about a mumbled oh-shit from Richie, an exacerbated sigh from Dorothea, and a big indignant grin from Jon.

 

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin’ up?”

 

Romeo descended the stairs. “I heard voices. Whaddya doin’ here?”  

 

“Uncle Mook and I are sleeping here tonight.”

 

“Jon!” Dorothea shot him a look.

 

“Wha? We’re here now.” Jon pushed himself off the chair. “C’mon Rich. You know where to go.”

 

“Can you tuck me in?” the sleepy boy asked.

 

“Sure can do.” Jon scooped the boy over his shoulder, making him break out into a fit of giggles. 

 

“Sssssh. You’re gonna wake up your brothers and sister.”

 

Jon made it about halfway up the stairs before Dorothea was calling him. Turning, he found her waiting with her hip cocked to one side and both hands planted firmly on them. He’d seen that look a thousand times before, but he also knew she wouldn’t cause a scene in front of Romeo.  

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

To the naked eye, it was one of your typical mornings. Like old times, Jon and Rich were up to their usual antics in the kitchen as the kids watched Meatball follow every morsel of food that passed between hands. Dorothea sat off in the distance, arms and legs crossed tightly, clearly still annoyed. She clutched her cup of coffee and if looks could kill, they’d both be dead several times over. After breakfast, he sent the kids upstairs to gather up their things. With the tension so thick, Richie excused himself, leaving the two of them alone.

 

“You had some nerve pulling this stunt.”

 

“C’mon Dot. No harm, no foul.”

 

“Bullshit, Jon. A — It’s totally inappropriate for you to spend the night here. What’s Romeo going to think now? What if it was Jake who came downstairs last night instead? B — you’re an asshole, and I certainly don’t want you in my house for any extended period of time.  C — maybe… just maybe, I’m tired of your fucking bullshit childlike antics. You’re an adult. Act like it for once.” 

 

Slamming her cup on the granite counter-top, she stalked out of the kitchen, nearly knocking Richie over in the process. They both jumped as her door slammed and rattled its frame.

 

“She’s not happy.”

 

“She’ll get over it.”

 

“Man, you better straighten your shit up. You’ve got too many women pissed off at you. You’re not safe anymore. I’d be scared if it was just Bella and your mom... but now Dot too? Tread lightly.”

 

“Okay, Casanova. When did you get promoted to hostage negotiator?”

 

“Suit yourself.” Shrugging, he moved towards the door as children filed down the stairs.

 

Clapping his hands, Richie got everyone’s attention. “Alright! Has everyone got everything they need? We’re not coming back for anything. Romeo, hold on to that puppy. Tightly. Actually, Steph, you watch your brother and the dog.”

 

The black SUV was about a block away from entering the tunnel when Jake let out a jagged squeal. “Dad, we gotta go back. I forgot my social studies project.”

 

“Dammit Jakey. Didn’t Richie ask if you had everything?”

“Yeah. But I forgot it and I need it.”

 

“You’re not going to school for a few days. Why do you need it now?”

“I have to finish it. Please. Can we just go back?”

 

“Fine.”  

 

Jon looked at the driver, who promptly took the next left and headed back to Mercer Street. Pulling up in front, Jake jumped out and made a beeline for the door. Jon hopped out of the front seat and pulled his phone from his pocket. It would be three-ish in Italy now. He was about to press send when out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of an old, familiar face. Someone he hadn’t seen in a while.

 

“Bobby!” Jon stepped away from the car. “How’s it going, man?”

 

Caught off guard, Bobby stopped dead in his tracks. “Jon. How’s it going?” he extended his hand to greet his old friend.

 

“Good. Good. Just waiting for Jake. What brings you to SoHo? Slummin’?”

 

Bobby huffed out a laugh. If he only knew, he thought. A few minutes later and you’d see exactly who brought me to SoHo. “Nah. I’m meeting a friend at the gym.”

 

For the next few minutes, they chatted about what the other had been up to. Bobby did act somewhat surprised when Jon spoke of him and Dorothea splitting and he remarrying with a baby on the way, claiming he had seen it in the news. He told Jon he had stopped practicing and finally opened that bar he always wanted.

 

“Got it, Dad.” Jake came flying out of the opened door. “Oh, hi.” he nodded to the man who was talking to his father.

 

“Jake, this is Bobby. Say hello.”

 

“Hi.” The boy smiled. “I’m good to go.”

 

“You sure this time?” Jon slapped a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Yep. Bye.” Jake said as he climbed back into the car.

 

“Bobby. It was good to see you.”

“Yeah. Same here, Jon.” The two men shook hands one last time.