Jul 12, 2008

Chapter Twenty-Four

When Samantha arrived outside Jon’s Victorian mansion, she found him strolling out across the great lawn. He waved as the cab deposited her on the massive driveway, and she headed toward him. She had gotten lost in her thoughts on the drive over here, and she had come to a hesitant conclusion. She was dealing with too much right now. She didn’t have any other choice.

“Hey, Sam!” he greeted her with a hug. “Thanks for coming, darlin’. I haven’t seen you since before the tour started – how are you?” he noticed her skin was slightly pale, and he swore he saw dark circles under her eyes, though she had done a good job of covering it all up with makeup.

“I’m hanging in there,” she laughed shortly. “Can we go inside? I need to talk to you.”

Jon gave her a curious look. “Sure, come with me,” he led her into the studio and shut the door behind them.

“What’s up?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Samantha drew a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to perform the duet.”

Jon looked like he had just been hit in the face. “What, why?!”

Samantha hated not being straight with him. “Well, at least not right now. Not next week. It’s – it’s just not a good time right now, that’s all,” she swallowed. “I – I need some time before I’ll be ready.”

Jon continued to stare. “Not a good time…?”

“Yeah…I mean, I’m really not ready and I have no idea when – or if – I will be.”

Jon’s mouth was still open, but he furrowed his brow. “Sam, everyone gets nervous. It’s normal. But you can’t let that stop you. I’m not going to let you quit.”

Samantha blinked furiously to keep away the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m not quitting, just postponing. I’m so sorry, Jon, really I am. Things just sort of – happened – and life is insane right now. I hope you understand, I never wanted to make things difficult for you…I just…everything is just so wrong…” she faltered, and suddenly tears were falling freely down her face.

Jon had his arms around her in two seconds. Samantha buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, her entire body shaking. He stroked her hair, comforting her quietly.

“Oh darlin’,” he whispered. “What’s the matter? This is more than just a change of heart, I know you better than this. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t,” Samantha sobbed. “I’m sorry, Jon, I know this must be horribly frustrating for you, but I just can’t talk about it right now. It’s just too personal.”

Jon was quiet for a minute, then squeezed her gently. “All right,” he said softly. “I understand, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Things started clicking into place in Jon’s brain as he soothed her. Neither Richie nor Samantha answering their calls since the band had gotten home on Wednesday…no word from Richie about rehearsal…Samantha indifferent to Jon’s mention of the fact…

Richie. Jon had had a hunch that this had to do with him.

And he was going to kill him.

_____________

After Samantha left, Jon jumped in the front seat of his black Aston Martin and tore off for Richie’s place. He got there in about eight minutes flat and slammed the car to a halt on the driveway, sending rocks flying.

He banged on the front door twice, “Rich!” There was no answer, so Jon tried the handle. It was locked.

“Richie!” he pounded furiously. “God damn it, open up!”

After a minute, the door swung open to reveal a squinty-eyed Richie.

“What the FUCK is your problem?” Jon started, before Richie grabbed him and yanked him inside. “Get inside, will you, the light’s killing me.” Richie shut his eyes tightly and rubbed them.

Jon stared at him. “Shit,” he breathed. “What’s gotten into you?”

He smelled strongly of beer, and there was a half-empty can in his hand. He looked at Jon, a mixture of anger and shame on his face. He shrugged and turned away, his face hard. “What do you want?”

“I came over here to find out what you said or did to Samantha to make her so upset,” Jon snapped.

Comprehension dawned on Richie’s features, and he instantly put up his guard. “How do you know she’s upset?” he turned to the living room and collapsed on the leather sofa, avoiding Jon’s angry eyes.

“She just quit the duet. Told me she just ‘couldn’t do it anymore’.”

Richie looked up, surprised. “What?! When did she tell you that?”

“Just now. I called her to see if she could come over for rehearsal since you’ve been avoiding my fucking calls all week, and when she got there she just dropped it on me. Burst into tears. She looked like hell, too – dark circles under her eyes, blotchy face. Like she’s been doing nothing but crying lately.”

Richie’s heart twisted to know she was hurting, but he forced his face to remain passive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t. Neither one of you would answer your calls this week, and when I mentioned that I couldn’t get a hold of you, she didn’t say a thing. WHAT is going on with you two?”

Richie shrugged again and lifted the can of beer to his lips. Jon crossed the room in two strides, grabbed the can from him, and crushed it in one fist.

“Talk to me, Richie!” he said warningly. “I swear to God you had better tell me what is going on or I’m going to go nuclear.”

“Nothing, Jon.” Richie said shortly, knowing full well he couldn’t hide from his best friend. Jon saw right through him and knew him even better than he knew himself sometimes.

“Oh, really? Nothing? It sure didn’t look like nothing, Rich. It looked like something to me. That poor girl had heartbreak written all over her face. Any idiot could have seen that she was hurting. That wasn’t nothing!” Jon was becoming frantic, and he stared wild-eyed at Richie, who finally looked back at him angrily.

“Why is it automatically my fault that she quit?”

Jon snorted. “You’re her boyfriend. You must have screwed something up, because I sure as hell didn’t do anything to her.”

“I didn’t do anything to her either – we just had a falling out.”

“A falling out,” Jon repeated.

Richie glanced away, his face hard. After a brief pause, he shook his head.

“Just forget it, Jon, you wouldn’t understand.” He leaned back and rubbed his face.

“I wouldn’t understand? Damn it, I knew this would happen.” Jon closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

Richie narrowed his eyes and looked at the singer. “Knew what would happen?” he asked, an edge in his voice.

Jon didn’t hesitate or soften his words. “You pushing her away. Putting up your guard and that damn wall you have around you to prevent yourself from getting hurt. You play with her emotions and bring her in, for the mere comfort of company – but then when she gets too close, you back off with your hands out in front of you. It doesn’t work that way, Rich, it never has. You can’t hold her close one day and then draw invisible barriers around yourself the next.”

“I’m not pushing her away,” Richie snarled.

“Bullshit you aren’t,” Jon snapped. “That’s what you’ve done ever since Heather, and I’ve watched you do it. You get in with the girls you know aren’t going to last, and that’s safe for you, because it’s all just shallow and physical. It’s all the daily pleasures and shallow crap that makes you feel good – there’s no substance. No emotion. No feeling. Those girls were all just there to fill the void, because you couldn’t allow yourself to get close to somebody who was worth it all.”

Richie’s eyes were narrow slits and he fixed them on Jon with a deadly glare. “What does that have to do with Samantha quitting the duet?”

“Because this woman is finally worth it!” Jon threw up his hands in exasperation. “And you’re pushing her away again!

“How do you know? And who are you to analyze what I do in relationships? Fuck, Jon, you don’t know how I feel or what my intentions are. It’s none of your damn business anyway.”

“THIS is my business, Richie! Samantha is my business. She’s become my business the last few months that you have been together. And I’m your friend, even when you’re being a complete moron, so that automatically makes it my business.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Richie was furious.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about, Richie, just shut up and listen to me for once! Samantha is a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman, and you know damn well she’s good for you. Hell, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to you. And I REFUSE to stand here and let you screw it all up – ”

“I KNOW she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jon! I know that! I’m madly in love with the woman!” Richie interjected angrily and jumped to his feet, ignoring the pounding in his head. “Have you happened to notice that she’s the one always pushing away? That she’s the one always ‘retreating with her hands out in front of her’? I give her everything – I’ve been open and honest and all the things I haven’t been able to do in ages. And I’m fucking sick and tired of playing these games, so I lost it on Wednesday night at her place and left. She’s like a fucking brick wall – I can’t get through to her. She has never once said she loves me – did you know that?”

Jon faltered. “I – no, I didn’t know that…”

“Of course you didn’t! Because you’re too focused on MY faults. I appreciate you looking out for me, Jon, I really do, but you have to give me some credit. You automatically assume Samantha is perfect and has everything together, and therefore I must be the insecure asshole who screwed things up. But the truth is that she’s got some issues to work out herself – she’s got a Heather in her past too, and she’s trying to deal with it. Just like I did. Just like I had to.”

Jon considered him before he spoke, trying to assess the difference between the situation he saw and the situation that was real. Finally he spoke, “So let her deal with it.”

Richie stared at him as if he had lost his marbles. “Have you been listening at all? That’s what I’m doing!”

Jon shook his head impatiently. “No, you’ve given up on her. You’ve figured she has her problems and issues and they won’t get resolved. That’s not the case. Look at how long it’s taken you to get over Heather. It takes time. Give Samantha the chance to get over whatever she needs to.”

“So you’re saying I’m just supposed to sit around and wait for her to figure out her feelings? Just stand by and watch until she realizes who she is and can overcome all that interior damage to move on? That’s a damn risky move if you ask me – what if she never gets through it?”

“That’s a risk you take with people you love, Rich.”

“I know…but that’s superhuman strength, Jon, I don’t know anybody that patient.”

Jon simply looked at him. “What do you think I’ve done all these years?”

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

OMG I just want to give Richie a big warm squishy hug and tell him its all going to be ok.....

It is all going to be ok isn't Becky lol.

Love the latest two chapter now stop reading this and get back to work girl lol xx

Becky said...

LOL thanks Fee!

I stopped reading and posted ch. 25. ;)

Sambora_Wanted said...

I could just cry for both Richie and Jon. Sam needs to pull it together.