Jul 9, 2008

Chapter Twenty-One

Richie leaned back in the spacious leather recliner and looked out the window of the private jet. The night sky pressed against the windowpane and showed the reflection of the inside of the plane, where the other band members were settling in for the five-hour flight to Denver.

Tico was across the aisle, arms crossed and chin resting on his chest, hoping to catch a few hours of shut-eye. Dave was somewhere behind Richie toward the back of the plane, rummaging through his suitcase, looking for something. Jon, as usual, was restless, seated in another recliner a few feet from Tico, tapping his boot against the footrest in front of him and going through a folder of paperwork.

Richie sighed and turned back to the window, focusing on the night sky. His thoughts traveled back to the night before, at Samantha’s mom’s house. He had had such a wonderful time – Carol and James West were so friendly, so open, so real and down-to-earth. Just like Samantha.

It was perhaps the single most attractive thing about her – the fact that she was so normal. Richie had learned long ago that when the music industry was your career and life, you were surrounded by wannabes and has-beens, people who were so transparent you could see right through their every move and word, people who were nothing but spineless blobs of nothing that filled whatever mold they felt they were supposed to…people who were merely empty shells and had no substance whatsoever. But Samantha didn’t try to be someone she wasn’t, and she was comfortable in her own skin. There was something insanely refreshing about that.

But lately, she hadn’t seemed as though she were so comfortable. Frankly, she still didn’t seem…like herself. Something was still off, and though she had put on a fantastic façade of normalcy and acted like nothing was wrong at her mom’s house, Richie could sense that she was still pulling back. Once again, she hadn’t returned the ‘I love you’ when he had whispered it in her ear back at her apartment, and the only reason he had dared to say it again was because he was leaving and they wouldn’t see each other for a few weeks. He loved her so much, cared for her so deeply, and had come to do so within a relatively short amount of time considering his past, so the fact that she wouldn’t – or couldn’t – open up to him nearly broke his heart. She wasn’t blatantly distant or outright distracted like she had been a couple of times lately, but he could sense that she was building a wall around herself, and he didn’t know why.

To protect herself from getting hurt? Richie had never shown anything but love and compassion for her, so he was entirely perplexed as to why she might feel threatened by him.

To prevent herself from getting too close to him? If it wasn’t that she felt she’d get hurt, why else would she resist closeness? Because she didn’t take relationships seriously? Because she was seeing someone else? Because she had the emotional capacity of a rhinoceros?

Richie shook his head. He knew she wasn’t that type of person.

But if it was something else that was bothering her, why wasn’t she talking to him about it? Why was she keeping him in the dark?

And more importantly…how long was he supposed to sit there in the dark?

Richie closed his eyes, wanting to shut out the millions of questions swirling around in his head. He didn’t have any answers, which annoyed him greatly, and more than anything he wanted to get to the bottom of it. But he couldn’t. He was 25,000 feet in the air on the way to the first stop of a world tour with his band. He had a new agenda to deal with, and Samantha would just have to wait.

He only hoped that the distance and time apart would give her time to think and figure things out, instead of make things worse.

_________________________________

Samantha tried to go about her life as normally as possible without Richie. Though she figured it would be easy, figured she’d just do what she always had done before they had met, she found it more difficult than she’d imagined. Her weekends suddenly were free, and she spent a lot more time on her work than she had over the last few months. She also spent a ton of time with James – shopping or watching a movie or catching a quick bite to eat on their lunch breaks. When they weren’t out about town, he was at her place, challenging her to board games and walking the dogs with her, acting like they were a pair of teenagers.

Samantha tried to give Richie time to get settled in at Denver the weekend he left, and when he called to let her know they had landed on Saturday morning, she was grateful. She knew he had a busy day ahead of him, and then the opening shows on Saturday and Sunday nights, but when she hadn’t heard from him by Monday, the edges of concern started creeping in. Yes, he was busy; yes, he was probably exhausted, but hadn’t he promised to call her every day?

Don’t worry about it, she told herself. He’s fine, he’s just caught up with a million things. She willed herself to be patient and understanding, and she got through another day.

By Wednesday night, she was worried. She wasn’t used to going for several days straight with no contact, and her counterargument that he was busy was starting to wear thin. She checked her phone incessantly, worried that she might miss his call if she didn’t have it on her at all times, but when she flipped it open for the upteenth time on Wednesday night, she had to fight back tears when nothing new showed up.

He finally called early Friday morning, just as she stepped out of the shower to get ready for work. She threw a towel around her dripping body and ran into her bedroom, snatching up the phone just before it clicked to voicemail.

“Hello?” She panted.

“Hey Sam,” Richie sounded tired.

“Richie! Finally...”

“I am so incredibly sorry I haven’t called before now.”

Samantha felt a mixture of annoyance and relief. See, she told herself. He didn’t forget about you.

Richie went on. “Things are absolutely insane here. The sound crew screwed up and forgot some equipment for the opening nights, which, as you can imagine, sent Jon off into space. Tic had problems with his drums during the first performance, Dave caught a nasty head cold and hasn’t been able to sing backup vocals for the last few days, and I sliced open two fingers on my old Stratocaster Tuesday night. You know, the white one? Yeah, it’s now got bloodstains all over the fret board.”

Samantha gasped. “Oh my God, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but it took a few stitches to sew me back up. I tell you, there’s nothing more painful than playing guitar with skinless fingertips.”

“Oh honey…”

“Sam, I feel terrible. I really am sorry I didn’t call, I know I promised you I would every day.”

Samantha felt her anger ebb away at the sound of his voice. He was so sincere and apologetic.

“It’s all right, honey, I’m not mad. I figured you were busy.”

Richie snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. But how are you? How is everything at home?”

“Boring,” Samantha said truthfully. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that you’re gone.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, I miss you here too. Women are always screaming and flirting with us in the front rows, and I have to admit, I usually dig it. But now, all I keep seeing when I look at them is your pretty face.”

“Awww,” Samantha said quietly. “That is so sweet.”

“It’s true.”

Samantha could hear the smile in his voice. “So when do you come back for the Garden shows? We need to rehearse before the debut, you know.”

“Oh don’t worry, I know. Jon’s been freaking out about that too. Keeps asking if you’ve been practicing, because there’s only so much time we have to do it together. He wants you to practice your part – the vocals and harmonization and what not. We’re flying back into Newark May twentieth. We’ve got five straight nights at the Prudential Center in Jersey, and then the Garden is next. So that gives us about a week for last minute rehearsal time and to finalize everything,” Richie blew out a puff of breath. “I think we can do it. And if not, hey, it hasn’t been announced that we have a guest performer, so we could even introduce you elsewhere if we don’t get enough time to work everything out.”


“That sounds good,” Samantha mentally calculated how much time she’d have to take off work. “I’ll practice, I promise, and I’ll be ready when you get back.”

“Good,” Richie paused for a moment. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Has something been bothering you lately? I mean, you just haven’t been one hundred percent it seems, and I want to make sure that you know you can talk to me about whatever it is.”

Samantha adjusted the towel around her body. She really didn’t want to tell him about Shane. Not now. He had a million other things to worry about.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she lied. “I’m fine.”

Richie was quiet on the other end. “Right,” he tried to sound nonchalant, but Samantha heard an edge of anger in his voice. “Okay, well, I have to get going now – we’re leaving for brunch and then it’s off to sound check for tonight’s show. We’re in Atlanta, by the way.”

“Wow - you’re just hopping all over the map, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…listen, I’ll try to call you again soon, all right?”

“All right – good luck tonight and have fun.”

“Thanks. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Richie.”


Samantha hung up and looked at her phone for a minute before returning to the bathroom, realizing that Richie hadn’t said he loved her.

No comments: