July 9, 2010
East Rutherford, NJ: New Meadowlands Stadium
Ariana was bound and determined to make it through this day. No ifs, ands or buts about it. The last time the band played here she was stuck halfway across the world. The furthest away she planned on being was the porta-potty she had maintenance set up right behind the stage for her.
Giants Stadium had always been a pivotal venue for the band. Hometown bragging rights and all that. The crowds were always loud with ultimate participation. They literally put the ROCK in rock the house. Tonight would be no different.
After dropping the kids off at their grandparents, she shared a lovely lunch with Cara and Jon at Barnacle Bill’s before heading over to the stadium. Paul and Jeanie were already there waiting to usher Jon and the band through the day's never ending press parade of entertainment shows and local newspapers, who were there to interview the hometown boys. That left the two amigos pretty much to do what they wanted.
“Ariana Moretti! If you don’t sit still, my niece will be born on the fifty-yard line.”
Cara cried out after her as they crossed the field for the umpteenth time today. She had been like the energizer bunny on crack, with no signs of slowing down since they arrived. Helping anyone who asked and offering to those who didn’t.
“It’s Bongiovi now.”
“Kiss my ass!”
“No, thank you.”
“But seriously, you need to slow it down. It’s hotter that a whorehouse on nickel night and it’s only soundcheck.”
“You visiting whore houses again?” Ariana took a seat in the empty row just in front of the soundboard and stretched out her legs.
“You know what I’m talking about. We have been running around this stadium non-stop. There are people who are actually getting paid to do what you are doing right now. Can’t you just let them do their jobs?”
“O-kaaay, Jon!” Ari rolled her eyes at her friend and went back to tinkering with the soundboard. “
“Try it now, Ton,” she spoke into the black wire falling from her ear. Pushing a button here and lowering a lever there, she looked over at Cara, who was standing with her hip cocked and her arms folded across her chest.
“What? You heard it straight from the doctor's mouth,” she rubbed her hands over her hard belly, “this goose is still cooking.”
“Yeah, well, we all know well enough how that could change on a dime.”
“Fine. If it will make you happy, after this we will go join them for dinner and then I’ll rest.”
“Promise….”
“Cross my swollen ankles.”
“Not. Even. Funny.”
♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱
Ari hadn’t seen or spoken to Jon all day, other than lunch and soundcheck. He’d been swamped with one reporter after another, or with the never-ending flow of people who always popped out of the woodwork for one of the hometown shows. So, she wasn’t surprised he wasn’t at dinner either.
After she checked in with Jeanie to make sure Jon had eaten, she enlisted her brother-in-law for some help. Her instructions were simple and non-negotiable - no interruptions prior to showtime. No exceptions! She wanted to spend the remaining time they had before the crazy train began with her husband all to herself.
“Look, I have cankles?” Laughing, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Hey, they’re beautiful cankles, if I do say so myself.”
“Your opinion doesn’t count.”
“Oh, it doesn’t now?”
“Nah, you promised in front of God and all our friends to love me, in swollenness and fatness, till death do us part.”
“Funny, I don’t remember saying those exact words.”
“Yeah, well, you were too drunk to remember much.”
“Oh, contraire mon aimee.” He shifted so she was facing him and dragged her legs into his lap. Slipping off her right flip-flop, he tossed it on the floor and did the same to the left.
“Wanna know what I remember?”
“Sure.”
“I remember the only thing swollen and fat that night was my dick when I came in your hand, like some lovesick boy getting his first-hand job.”
Ari tossed back her head and laughed. “Touché.”
“So, what have you and Frenchie been up to all day?” He let his fingers dig into the bottom of her foot.
“This and that. Tony and Obie were having a few glitches…” he gave her a sideway glance. “Before you say anything, I was sitting the whole time. Well, other than the walking back and forth from the video console and soundboard.”
“What kinda of glitches?”
“You know, the pre-show Murphy’s Law kind. Rechargeable batteries acting up, the VCA and DCA wouldn’t mirror properly and the di-box connections were being squirrelly.”
“And I assume it was you who got it all figured out.”
“Yup!” she said proudly.
“You are your father's daughter, you know that.”
“Moretti’s… best in the business.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it,” he switched feet. “So, all good now?”
“Uh-huh. Obie even let me add some tweaks to the mixing console while he did his walk around during soundcheck.”
“He did now. Care to share what you did?”
“Ancient Moretti secret. If I tell ya, I have to kill ya.”
“You do know I have final say. What if I don’t like it?”
“Ah baby, I thought you liked it when I tweak it.”
His boisterous laugh filled the room as she swung her feet off his lap and set them on the floor. “Hold that thought. I have to pee.”
Standing, she walked across the massive locker room and into the equally massive bathroom. One of the perks of being Jon Bon Jovi; you were the only one given the honor of using the Giants' locker room as your dressing room.
This morning she was half tempted to dig out her faded 49ers shirt even though she knew it wouldn’t have fit when she dressed this morning, but she wasn’t that cruel. Instead, she went with one Matt and Dez had given her for her birthday. They made her promise she would wear it tonight. It would be the one and only time she would wear the silly pink tank with ‘Daddy’s little Giants Fan’ written across the belly.
When she returned, he was sitting with his foot resting on his knee. His trusty legal pad was in his lap and his sharpie dangling between his lips. Making a quick stop at the long buffet table, she pulled two water bottles from the bucket of ice and crossed the room back to the couch. Setting his bottle down on the table, she tucked her leg the best she could under her and curled next to him.
Watching as he scribbled away, they talked about his never-ending afternoon of interviews and how exhausting it was repeating the same thing over and over. She joked that she finally had a better understanding of how he felt. At every turn today, Carol was there introducing her to yet another family member. She couldn’t believe just how many cousins he actually had.
True, the Bongiovi lineage was a long one, with her father-in-law having only one brother, there seemed to be a lot of them. Okay, maybe there weren't that many, but to her, anything over one was a lot. He explained that there were so many cousins that even he had a hard time keeping track of them. That he would just nod his head and smile because he couldn’t remember all their names.
They discussed the after party that took place in the stadium’s private suites upstairs and that when she was ready to leave, all she’d have to do was just give the sign and they’d be gone. Jokingly, she teased him about how convenient it was having a pregnant wife for getting out of things he didn’t want to do. Their time together had been so relaxing they couldn’t believe how much time had passed when they heard Kid Rock taking the stage. It also meant it was his cue to start getting ready. And when she stayed on the couch instead of going out to watch Kid, he called her old.
“Show time, bro.” Matt banged on the door.
“Time to go shake my ass.” He swished his hips in one of his signature moves.
“Try not to break anything, old man.” She grabbed a handful of his ass.
“Hardy, har, Mommy’s funny.” He lowered to kiss her belly, then her. “Ready?”
Opening the door, she stepped out into the corridor. “Let’s do this.”
♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱
“Black or red?”
Tipping his chin at the red one, he peeled off his soaked shirt. He reached for one of the open water bottles Dawn had placed in front of him and plopped down in his chair. Like a well-oiled machine, Dean worked his neck and throat as Dawn worked the blow dryer.
“Having fun, Crash?” He winked in between gulps.
“Always.”
“It’s hotter than a motherfucker. You drinking enough water?”
Nodding yes, she pushed away the bottle he offered her and stepped out of the way to make room for Rew.
“Goin’ with the setlist?”
“Nah. Crowds on fire might as well give them their money’s worth.”
With the information he needed, Rew took off, followed by Dean and Dawn. Kindly giving them the two seconds of privacy that had become part of his quick-change ritual, for nothing more than a quick kiss and check-in to see how his girls were holding up.
“Money’s worth, eh? Someone’s feeling generous.”
Tugging the shirt over his head, he pulled her into his space and planted a wet one on her. “That’s right. Got my favorite girl by my side…” grins grow on both of their faces as they felt the movement between them, “girls,” he exaggerated the s as he bent to kiss her belly.
Fifty seconds into the third song of the encore, Ariana felt the stadium walls slowly closing in one treacherous inch at a time as she watched the image of Jon in pain on the monitor.
“Get him the fuck off the stage!” she yelled to anyone who would listen to her.
“Ariana. You need to calm down. It’s not good for you or the baby.” Nicole tried securing the cuff around her arm.
Ari pushed the doctor's hands away. “Really? How the fuck would you like me to do that when my husband is hurt, and no one is doing a God damn thing about it?”
“If you don’t let me take your blood pressure, I will have Cliff hold you down, so I can.”
“Fine!” she puffed out a breath.
“Tony, can you shut that fucking thing off?” Nicole barked.
“Not really.” Tony turned his chair, so he was half watching his monitor and half looking at his sister-in-law.
“Ari, look at me. Matt and Dean are handling it. You need to let Nic do what she needs to do.”
Closing her eyes, she let her head hit the back of the chair.
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