It’s so sweet. Jon and Jilly have just renewed their vows. She looks just gorgeous in her off the shoulder cream fitted dress that clings to her gorgeous curves until it fishtails out at the bottom. I don’t know who it’s by but it looks muy expensivo. Oh crap, I’ve been spending way too much time around Richie. I’m even starting to sound like him. I look around trying to spot my erstwhile partner but fail.
Oh god my back hurts. It’s not easy being this pregnant and I still have five weeks to go. I have so much empathy for Jilly now when she was carrying Libby, who, by the way, was just so adorable as a flower girl in her pale pink dress and little crown of red roses that she made me well up with tears at how gorgeous she looked. Of course it didn’t help that she saw me and waved which, of course, set me off crying again. Damn bloody hormones. Richie bloody Sambora didn’t help either, telling me how proud he was that I was carrying our child.
Next time he can bloody well do it, cause I’m not going through this crap again for no-one. Not even Mr Sexy-pants Sambora.
I feel so fat, like a bloated whale and everything hurts. My ankles are swollen, my fingers look like sausages and my hair’s a mess. I’m just so damned tired all the time I can’t even be bothered to straighten my hair so it’s gone back to curly and where I had it cut so short it just gets in my eyes. I’ve not had a fringe before and now I know why. It’s a pain in the arse. Talking of which don’t even get me started about piles….
“Hey babe.” Richie says as he plonks himself down next to me, all breezy and slim and smiling and suddenly I hate him.
“What’s up?” he asks, catching sight of the deep frown on my face.
“It’s not fair. You’re so slim and smiley and I’m just a fat whale, compared to every woman here. Why would you wanna be seen with me?” I know I’m moaning but I can’t help it.
“Oh Pip,” he says in that deep smoky molasses tone of his, “Y’ain’t fat darlin’, you’re carrying our child which makes you the most important person here, in my eyes. In fact you’re the most important person in my life.”
I look deep into his dark chocolate eyes, waiting for the rebuttal when he takes it all back and says I’m second only to Ava, as he usually does but it doesn’t happen. I must look as confused as I feel as he smiles at me and takes my hand in his.
“Come dance with me.” he whispers as he helps me to my feet and we shuffle, quite awkwardly onto the dance floor. I thought, early on in this pregnancy, that I was going to be one of the lucky ones and get away without putting too much weight on but in the last month I have just ballooned to the size of India. I’m even bigger than Jilly was in her last few days.
Still it’s nice to be held by my man, even if he is at the side of me and not in front. I close my eyes and shuffle along to the music, breathing in his unique scent. I am just the luckiest woman on the planet. I have the man I’ve always loved, who helped me through all my personal demons and didn’t flee when things got rough, and I’m going to have his son. Talking of which, he’s woken up and is moving around.
Ooh, you little bugger, stop kicking and don’t even think of doing a hand stand on mummy’s bladder. Oh too late.
I make my excuses and hurry, well hobble, off to the loo. I see Jilly in passing and wave. She looks at me with sympathy for my plight and follows me to the loo.
I pull up the skirt of the satin wrap dress I’ve managed to shoe horn myself into and sit down with a sigh of pleasure. Never thought peeing would bring me so much pleasure but don’t knock it. When you’re this pregnant it’s the greatest thing in the world next to Cookies and Cream Hershey bars.
“Pip? You ok?” I hear Jilly call.
“I am now. Junior decided to do Olympic gymnastics on my bladder.” I say as I stand up slowly, my centre of gravity isn’t where it used to be and I have to be careful how I stand if I don’t want to pitch head first to the floor.
I join Jilly at the washbasins and after washing, I redo my lippy and try to make sense of my hair. I have started to resemble Hermione Granger in bushiness and generally frizziness. It’s such a pity I don’t have a wand and a tub of Sleakeezies hair potion.
“I don’t remember your hair doing this when you were carrying Lib.” I moan as my hair does its own thing.
“That’s cause I don’t have the amount of hair you have, mine’s baby fine remember?” Jilly smiles, looking every inch the radiant renewer.
“How are you?” I ask her, my meaning a bit deeper than the question suggests.
“We’re fine, now.” she replies, knowing exactly what I meant.
She told me all about the marriage counselling and had me in fits of hysterics as she described Jon’s behaviour that day. Having spent time with the man when he was in one of his pissy moods I had some sympathy for the counsellor. Not much, as by all accounts he was a bit of a git, but some…
We make our way back to the dance floor, arm in arm, laughing and wondering how in the hell did we end up here.
Two regular girls from South East London, both with the men they’ve loved since they were able to know what the word meant.
I’m still pondering over that fact when my back twinges again.
I stand still and reach behind to rub the aching muscle, smiling as Richie walks over to me, when I feel something warm trickling down my legs.
The look on my face says it all. The look on his face is priceless.
Wednesday 4 November 2009
Chapter Ten - Jon's Story
I’m going to Marriage Guidance Couselling. Me? Couselling? Gimme a fucking break. Still it’s what Jilly wants. Personally I think it’s a waste of fucking time. You know, spending an hour sitting in front of some conceited ass who’s probably single or gotta string of divorces under his belt and spilling all my secrets.
Nah, not gonna happen.
Shit.
Jilly’s giving me that look again. You know the one. It says quite clearly that I’d better be on my best behaviour and not embarrass her in the slightest whilst at the same time she wants me to dig deep into my psyche and spill every little secret I’ve ever had, all in the space of an hour. Yeah whatever. Like that’s gonna happen.
Oops was that sigh too loud?
Yeah, yeah I know I’m scowling under my shades but fuck it, I’m wasting time sitting here in this opulent office when I could be laying down some great tracks in the studio. Yeah, I know. Best behaviour, right?
The door opens and a tall dark haired, quite handsome in an Ivy League way, man in a suit comes in.
“Ah Mr and Mrs Bongiovi? I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting.” he says as he sits down in his high backed leather chair, framed by vast windows showing a gorgeous view of the pacific ocean.
Smarmy git. Hate him already, with his Harvard accent and Hugo Boss suit. I look down at my tattered jeans and tight tee and my frown gets deeper. It was people like him who drove me into music during high school. So I suppose really I should thank him but I can feel something primal stirring deep down inside in response to his presence. Fucking assholes who think they run the school just cause they’re popular. Huh, showed them huh? Guess who’s more popular now?
Oh shit, they’re both looking at me. Musta missed something he said.
“Er, sorry, I was deep in thought.” I manage to stammer. Oh fucking great my stammer’s back. Of all the fucking places it could come out, it chooses here.
“That’s perfectly okay Mr Bongiovi. I was just saying that this will be a preliminary appointment for the pair of you to air any grievances you may have with each other without prejudice. I want you two to have a place to come to get everything off your chest without carrying it back home with you.”
Carry it back home? What is it? Fucking takeout?
El Smarmo continues. God even his hair is perfect, the way it sits just so on his head, makes me wanna rip his fucking eyeballs out and have him suck them like gobstoppers...
Ok, even I’m officially grossed out by that thought, still with all this anger I evidently have, seems I’m in the right place.
“So Mr Bongiovi, would you like to go first?” He turns to me, “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable if you removed the sunglasses. Eye contact is always important in good communication.”
Ok, now my eyebrows have officially moved into my hairline but still I find my hand moving to remove the glasses without a conscious thought. Hmm.
I look at him, squinting slightly as bright sunlight pierces through the clouds outside and shines through the window. He presses a button on his desk and a shade falls slowly, mechanically into place. Cool! I want one.
“If you’d like to face your wife, Mr Bongiovi, and tell her what exactly you wish to accomplish by being here.”
“Well,” I start then stop, this isn’t easy this whole truth thing. Then it hits me. She wants the truth I’ll give her the truth. After all it’s been three months since the day she came into the studio and hugged me and that was the last time we had any real physical contact. We’ve talked, we’ve even kissed, but little Jonny ain’t had no action and he’s getting mighty twitchy by now. Plus he’s sick of the sight of my own hand.
I clear my throat and look at her, taking her hands into mine, feeling the soft skin under my calloused fingertips.
“Firstly, I wanna get though this session as quickly as possible, then write a cheque out for what will probably be a horrendous amount of money, then I wanna go home and fuck your brains out.”
There, that truthful enough for ya?
Silence.
Mr smarmy pants is so shocked he’s speechless. Probably cause he’s thinking of the cash he ain’t gonna get cause I’m fucked if I’m coming back here again.
I look at Jilly. She’s sat so still, her face blank as she stares into my eyes.
Ooooh shit! I’m thinking I may have dropped a bollock, when I see the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.
Ha, got ya! I think as the twitch develops into a smile then a laugh forces its way out of her beautiful mouth. Suddenly she’s rolling on the sofa with laughter. It’s infectious as I find my self joining in.
“Jilly? We don’t need this. I’m sorry I haven’t told you what’s on my mind, you know me, sometimes I forget to tell you how much I love you but it doesn’t mean I don’t, and everything I said to you in anger? You know I don’t mean it, I love you with every beat of my heart, you’re my soul mate, my companion, my love and without you I’m nothing but an empty shell.”
Albeit it one with better hair than Le Smarmarino.
Jilly looks at me and smiles. She sighs and then gets up from the sofa, holding her hand out.
“Let’s go home Jon.”
Nah, not gonna happen.
Shit.
Jilly’s giving me that look again. You know the one. It says quite clearly that I’d better be on my best behaviour and not embarrass her in the slightest whilst at the same time she wants me to dig deep into my psyche and spill every little secret I’ve ever had, all in the space of an hour. Yeah whatever. Like that’s gonna happen.
Oops was that sigh too loud?
Yeah, yeah I know I’m scowling under my shades but fuck it, I’m wasting time sitting here in this opulent office when I could be laying down some great tracks in the studio. Yeah, I know. Best behaviour, right?
The door opens and a tall dark haired, quite handsome in an Ivy League way, man in a suit comes in.
“Ah Mr and Mrs Bongiovi? I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting.” he says as he sits down in his high backed leather chair, framed by vast windows showing a gorgeous view of the pacific ocean.
Smarmy git. Hate him already, with his Harvard accent and Hugo Boss suit. I look down at my tattered jeans and tight tee and my frown gets deeper. It was people like him who drove me into music during high school. So I suppose really I should thank him but I can feel something primal stirring deep down inside in response to his presence. Fucking assholes who think they run the school just cause they’re popular. Huh, showed them huh? Guess who’s more popular now?
Oh shit, they’re both looking at me. Musta missed something he said.
“Er, sorry, I was deep in thought.” I manage to stammer. Oh fucking great my stammer’s back. Of all the fucking places it could come out, it chooses here.
“That’s perfectly okay Mr Bongiovi. I was just saying that this will be a preliminary appointment for the pair of you to air any grievances you may have with each other without prejudice. I want you two to have a place to come to get everything off your chest without carrying it back home with you.”
Carry it back home? What is it? Fucking takeout?
El Smarmo continues. God even his hair is perfect, the way it sits just so on his head, makes me wanna rip his fucking eyeballs out and have him suck them like gobstoppers...
Ok, even I’m officially grossed out by that thought, still with all this anger I evidently have, seems I’m in the right place.
“So Mr Bongiovi, would you like to go first?” He turns to me, “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable if you removed the sunglasses. Eye contact is always important in good communication.”
Ok, now my eyebrows have officially moved into my hairline but still I find my hand moving to remove the glasses without a conscious thought. Hmm.
I look at him, squinting slightly as bright sunlight pierces through the clouds outside and shines through the window. He presses a button on his desk and a shade falls slowly, mechanically into place. Cool! I want one.
“If you’d like to face your wife, Mr Bongiovi, and tell her what exactly you wish to accomplish by being here.”
“Well,” I start then stop, this isn’t easy this whole truth thing. Then it hits me. She wants the truth I’ll give her the truth. After all it’s been three months since the day she came into the studio and hugged me and that was the last time we had any real physical contact. We’ve talked, we’ve even kissed, but little Jonny ain’t had no action and he’s getting mighty twitchy by now. Plus he’s sick of the sight of my own hand.
I clear my throat and look at her, taking her hands into mine, feeling the soft skin under my calloused fingertips.
“Firstly, I wanna get though this session as quickly as possible, then write a cheque out for what will probably be a horrendous amount of money, then I wanna go home and fuck your brains out.”
There, that truthful enough for ya?
Silence.
Mr smarmy pants is so shocked he’s speechless. Probably cause he’s thinking of the cash he ain’t gonna get cause I’m fucked if I’m coming back here again.
I look at Jilly. She’s sat so still, her face blank as she stares into my eyes.
Ooooh shit! I’m thinking I may have dropped a bollock, when I see the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.
Ha, got ya! I think as the twitch develops into a smile then a laugh forces its way out of her beautiful mouth. Suddenly she’s rolling on the sofa with laughter. It’s infectious as I find my self joining in.
“Jilly? We don’t need this. I’m sorry I haven’t told you what’s on my mind, you know me, sometimes I forget to tell you how much I love you but it doesn’t mean I don’t, and everything I said to you in anger? You know I don’t mean it, I love you with every beat of my heart, you’re my soul mate, my companion, my love and without you I’m nothing but an empty shell.”
Albeit it one with better hair than Le Smarmarino.
Jilly looks at me and smiles. She sighs and then gets up from the sofa, holding her hand out.
“Let’s go home Jon.”
Monday 4 May 2009
Chapter Nine - Jilly's Story
I stick my tongue out at my reflection. My eyes are all puffy and hot, with the lashes glued together with hardened tears, and I feel like shit. I can’t believe Jon said that yesterday. That he doesn’t love me anymore. Part of me knows he doesn’t mean it but there is a part of me that wonders if that’s the reason why I hardly see him anymore. I miss him.
I don’t really know when it started only that I woke up one morning to find Jon gone and realised that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up next to him.
Sadly I watch as tears form in my eyes and make their way down my face. Thankfully Lib’s staying with Stephie at the moment so she doesn’t have to see me like this.
Is this what my marriage has come to? I feel numb inside, my stomach is in knots. I love my husband more than anything in the world but I think I’ve lost the ability to tell him. Every time I look at him now all I do is shout at him for not being there for me, while inside my heart is screaming out for him to just hold me and tell me everything will be ok between us but it gets lost in translation between my heart and my voice.
I can’t even talk to Pippa about this anymore as a) she’s pregnant and I don’t want to stress her, and b) Richie doesn’t want me to. I know he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to say anything, I could see the way he was looking at her whilst Jon and I were behaving like the mature adults we are and I just wanted Jon to look at me like that, as he used to. To look at me and undress me with his eyes before giving me that little knowing smile of his that told of things to come.
Sighing I finish brushing my hair and wonder about getting it cut. Ever since Libby was born all I’ve done with it is scrape it back into a ponytail. God I can’t even remember when I last had it cut. Critically I look at my face in the full length mirror and grimace. My eyes look tired as well as puffy and since when did my mouth turn down at the corners? My hair is lank and lifeless. I look a mess, I feel a mess. Ugh no wonder my husband isn’t around…scratch that. I don’t look like this all the time, it’s that damn studying I’m doing. I’d started to study in the evening, after Libby was asleep and before Jon used to get home from the Studio. Hmm this was back when Jon used to come home every evening.
I sit on the toilet seat and sigh. I can feel something rushing through me. Anger. Anger that he’s never here, anger that he made this decision without consulting me and anger that our marriage has seemingly gone down the pan. You know most marriages that end in divorce don’t end as a result of a major argument, just lots of little ones that go unchecked. There’s never a moment that you can look back at and say “There it was, that’s when it happened.” You just wake up one morning and everything you held closest to your heart is gone.
I finish in the bathroom and head out onto the balcony to have what will be possibly my fifth or sixth cigarette since I woke up about an hour ago. My head hurts and it’s not just because I spent the night crying so much I glued my own eyelashes together as a result. It hurts because I’ve stopped viewing this in small sections and have started to look at our problems as a whole and I don’t like what I’’m seeing.
I ground out the cigarette as another wave of anger overtakes me. Christ! My emotions are haywire and we’ve not even separated yet!
Bollocks to this!
I stare at my wedding ring.
I’ve had enough of this pussy footing around. Being with Jon for this long has taught me a few things about standing up for yourself and your loved ones and I’m fucked if I’m going to let him destroy us, especially without consulting me first!
I knock on the door of the studio. No response, which is hardly surprising as I can hear the music out here so god knows how loud it must be inside. I’ve never been in the studio before, even though Jon had it built on our land after Libby’s birth so that he would always be close to home. Little bit of irony there, me thinks….
Grasping what little courage I’ve got I push at the door, find it open and walk in.
It’s a weird place. A sort of reception type room at the front with a couple of doors leading off. One has Studio printed onto it and the other has nothing on it. Hedging my bets I choose the Studio door. I push it open quietly, not wanting to disturb the guys but once I’m in there I find that Jon’s the only one there.
He looks up from where he’s sat, hunched over a guitar, as I walk in. He grabs a remote and turns down the music that is blaring from huge wall mounted speakers, and turns back to his guitar.
I stand for a few minutes just looking at my husband. To anyone else he looks unchanged but I can see the slight slump to his shoulders and a stiffening of his back muscles. His jaw is clenched and every muscle in his body is in a state of high tension.
He looks as miserable as I feel, which ought to make me feel better but it just makes me feel sad; that we’ve allowed our marriage to come to this.
I look at him, waiting for my mouth to open and words of platitude to come tumbling out as has been the case lately, but nothing will come. I remember doing a sponsored silence for some charity when I was younger, which Pippa refused to do with me, and after the first two minutes I found it very easy not to speak for the rest of the day. It was as if I had a heavy weight in my jaw that prohibited me from speaking. I can feel that now and know that it doesn’t matter what’s happening between us, right now I’m physically incapable of speaking.
Jon looks up at me with unspoken questions and wariness in his eyes.
I can’t speak! I try to open my mouth even but nothing… I can see Jon looking at me questioningly, his bright blue eyes dulled with unshed tears and pain.
Oh god, I know I have to say something, my stomach is telling me to say something, anything to get the ball rolling, but it just won’t happen! Work mouth! Please!
Before I can change my mind and flee, which is what my mind is telling me to do, I cross the room and wrap my arms around my husbands neck.
Jon is startled and almost drops the guitar. I said almost, he is a musician after all…I can smell anxiety and fear on him and know immediately that he is just as scared as I am that we’ve irreparably broken us.
As I lay my head on his shoulder and feel the warmth of his body seep through into my embrace, I can feel a lone tear work it way down my nose and drip onto him. As it falls the spell is broken.
“Jon, I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”
I don’t really know when it started only that I woke up one morning to find Jon gone and realised that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up next to him.
Sadly I watch as tears form in my eyes and make their way down my face. Thankfully Lib’s staying with Stephie at the moment so she doesn’t have to see me like this.
Is this what my marriage has come to? I feel numb inside, my stomach is in knots. I love my husband more than anything in the world but I think I’ve lost the ability to tell him. Every time I look at him now all I do is shout at him for not being there for me, while inside my heart is screaming out for him to just hold me and tell me everything will be ok between us but it gets lost in translation between my heart and my voice.
I can’t even talk to Pippa about this anymore as a) she’s pregnant and I don’t want to stress her, and b) Richie doesn’t want me to. I know he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to say anything, I could see the way he was looking at her whilst Jon and I were behaving like the mature adults we are and I just wanted Jon to look at me like that, as he used to. To look at me and undress me with his eyes before giving me that little knowing smile of his that told of things to come.
Sighing I finish brushing my hair and wonder about getting it cut. Ever since Libby was born all I’ve done with it is scrape it back into a ponytail. God I can’t even remember when I last had it cut. Critically I look at my face in the full length mirror and grimace. My eyes look tired as well as puffy and since when did my mouth turn down at the corners? My hair is lank and lifeless. I look a mess, I feel a mess. Ugh no wonder my husband isn’t around…scratch that. I don’t look like this all the time, it’s that damn studying I’m doing. I’d started to study in the evening, after Libby was asleep and before Jon used to get home from the Studio. Hmm this was back when Jon used to come home every evening.
I sit on the toilet seat and sigh. I can feel something rushing through me. Anger. Anger that he’s never here, anger that he made this decision without consulting me and anger that our marriage has seemingly gone down the pan. You know most marriages that end in divorce don’t end as a result of a major argument, just lots of little ones that go unchecked. There’s never a moment that you can look back at and say “There it was, that’s when it happened.” You just wake up one morning and everything you held closest to your heart is gone.
I finish in the bathroom and head out onto the balcony to have what will be possibly my fifth or sixth cigarette since I woke up about an hour ago. My head hurts and it’s not just because I spent the night crying so much I glued my own eyelashes together as a result. It hurts because I’ve stopped viewing this in small sections and have started to look at our problems as a whole and I don’t like what I’’m seeing.
I ground out the cigarette as another wave of anger overtakes me. Christ! My emotions are haywire and we’ve not even separated yet!
Bollocks to this!
I stare at my wedding ring.
I’ve had enough of this pussy footing around. Being with Jon for this long has taught me a few things about standing up for yourself and your loved ones and I’m fucked if I’m going to let him destroy us, especially without consulting me first!
I knock on the door of the studio. No response, which is hardly surprising as I can hear the music out here so god knows how loud it must be inside. I’ve never been in the studio before, even though Jon had it built on our land after Libby’s birth so that he would always be close to home. Little bit of irony there, me thinks….
Grasping what little courage I’ve got I push at the door, find it open and walk in.
It’s a weird place. A sort of reception type room at the front with a couple of doors leading off. One has Studio printed onto it and the other has nothing on it. Hedging my bets I choose the Studio door. I push it open quietly, not wanting to disturb the guys but once I’m in there I find that Jon’s the only one there.
He looks up from where he’s sat, hunched over a guitar, as I walk in. He grabs a remote and turns down the music that is blaring from huge wall mounted speakers, and turns back to his guitar.
I stand for a few minutes just looking at my husband. To anyone else he looks unchanged but I can see the slight slump to his shoulders and a stiffening of his back muscles. His jaw is clenched and every muscle in his body is in a state of high tension.
He looks as miserable as I feel, which ought to make me feel better but it just makes me feel sad; that we’ve allowed our marriage to come to this.
I look at him, waiting for my mouth to open and words of platitude to come tumbling out as has been the case lately, but nothing will come. I remember doing a sponsored silence for some charity when I was younger, which Pippa refused to do with me, and after the first two minutes I found it very easy not to speak for the rest of the day. It was as if I had a heavy weight in my jaw that prohibited me from speaking. I can feel that now and know that it doesn’t matter what’s happening between us, right now I’m physically incapable of speaking.
Jon looks up at me with unspoken questions and wariness in his eyes.
I can’t speak! I try to open my mouth even but nothing… I can see Jon looking at me questioningly, his bright blue eyes dulled with unshed tears and pain.
Oh god, I know I have to say something, my stomach is telling me to say something, anything to get the ball rolling, but it just won’t happen! Work mouth! Please!
Before I can change my mind and flee, which is what my mind is telling me to do, I cross the room and wrap my arms around my husbands neck.
Jon is startled and almost drops the guitar. I said almost, he is a musician after all…I can smell anxiety and fear on him and know immediately that he is just as scared as I am that we’ve irreparably broken us.
As I lay my head on his shoulder and feel the warmth of his body seep through into my embrace, I can feel a lone tear work it way down my nose and drip onto him. As it falls the spell is broken.
“Jon, I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”
Tuesday 28 April 2009
Chapter Eight - Richie's Story
This is a fucking nightmare. I’ve got Jilly, with the aid of my darling Pippa, on one side and Jon on the other. Neither are talking to each other. This is just getting fucking ridiculous. All Jilly wants to do is study and all Jon wants to do is be in the Studio. Neither one of them is willing to give way. I know it’s really getting to Pip and now she’s six months pregnant I’m damned if I’m gonna have her get stressed out by two immature adults who ought to know better. Hell, even Libby’s acting more mature than they are at the moment.
Steph moved out last week which I know is upsetting Jon but him being who he is won’t talk about it. You’d think after the debacle ( see, Pip’s teaching me long words LOL) of Dot he’d have learned that to keep a relationship going you need to communicate but no, the writer of some of the world’s greatest rock songs is totally dry when it comes to his own life. God I just wanna smack his, and hers, let’s not forget about Jilly here, heads together.
Oh no let’s not forget about Jilly. She is not entirely innocent in all this at all. I think if she’d just come out and told Jon about her wanting to study at the time instead of hiding it from him then they wouldn’t have the trust issue that they obviously have at the moment.
I look over at the love of my life ( sorry, second love of my life, next to Ava) and smile at her. She smiles wryly back at me, through her fringe. She had her hair cut and invested in a pair of straighteners last week and I’m still trying to get used to shorter, straighter hair. Her hairdresser told her it would be easier to manage once the baby arrives and she’d be better off getting used to it now than later. That’s all right for the hairdresser to say but he’s not the one who misses running his hands through her glorious mane of curls.
I have had enough of this shit.
“Ok you two, start talking or me and Pip are going home and you two can fucking get divorced for all I care.” I say, vehemently
Jon looks up at me, all startled blue eyes and pouty mouth.
“Jon you’re the eldest you start. Spill it man.”
He looks at me and knows I am serious. Hell he’s known me for how long now? He ought to fuckin well know when I’m being serious, still 25 years and only one major argument isn’t bad ya know.
“I never see you anymore.” Jon says quietly, but to this crowd it’s a fucking explosion.
“And who’s fault is that then?” Jilly counters, anger evident, “You’re in that bloody studio from sun up to sun set. Libby’s not even sure you still live here.”
“Don’t you fucking bring Libby into this.”
“And why not Jon? What am I supposed to tell her when she asks if Daddy’s coming home tonight and I haven’t the foggiest idea. Hmm?”
“What about you then? I’m surprised you take your head out of those books for long enough to realise you’ve got a fucking daughter.”
“I spend three hours a day studying! How dare you insinuate that I put that before Libby!”
I catch Pippa’s eye and she looks worried. This isn’t going the way I thought it would.
“I’ve only got your word for that. How the fuck do I know it’s only three hours? Huh?”
“Well maybe if you dragged your sorry arse out of that studio more often then you’d be able to see it for yourself wouldn’t you? But oh no, Jon Bon Jovi would never put his family before his fucking career, would you? Given half a chance between having a family and staying at home or losing the family and touring all year, you’d fucking tour wouldn’t you? Go on admit it.” Jilly half shout as Jon looks at her with a stubborn, mulish expression.
“Half the time I have no idea whether you’re really in the studio or what. Or should I say who? Don’t think I don’t know about those texts you’ve been getting late at night.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Jilly, most of those texts are from Stephie and the others are from Dot asking about Stephie.”
“Well at least one of your daughters knows her father’s interested in her at least.”
“What the fuck? Lib knows I love her.”
“Really? You ought to be here when she’s crying her eyes out convinced you don’t love her anymore cause you’re never here.” Jilly yells, angry tears making their way down her face.
“It’s not her I don’t love anymore.” He replys softly.
Jilly gasps, looking as if he’s just physically slapped her before her eyes well with tears. I can see she’s about to dart off and try to catch her to comfort her but she’s too quick for me. I can hear her sobbing as she runs off towards the house.
Jon lights a cigarette and looks out over his land.
I turn back to him and just stare at the worlds best exhibit of sheer stupidity.
“You stupid fuck.” I say in disgust, holding my hand out for Pippa to take to help her out of her seat.
I stand over from him as Pippa goes up to him to see if he’s ok. Fuck him. I don’t care anymore. And he wonders why his relationships don’t work out. Fucking prick.
“Pippa.” I say, sharper than I normally would, holding my hand out to her.
She kisses Jon on the cheek and walks to my side.
We walk back to the house in companionable silence, my arm round her waist. Although she’s six months gone it doesn’t show at all and she’s only just having to wear maternity clothes. I know Jilly laughingly said she hated her for it.
I love Pippa with all my heart and I know that no matter what happens we will never go the way of Jon and Jilly. Pippa may have her faults, and there are many lol, but she will tell me when something is wrong. Usually about 30 seconds after she’s discovered it, mind you. She is certainly not backwards in coming forwards.
As we walk through the house I can hear Jilly crying in the study. I keep hold of Pippa’s hand and she tries to break free to go to her friend.
“Pip, honey, let’s go home. I’m not having you get stressed out by all this bullshit. Jilly’s a grown woman, she has to learn to deal with this by herself.”
I can see Pippa’s not happy but she acquiesces and comes with me.
We reach our SUV and wearily climb into it. She is just so damn beautiful, she really is, even when she’s looking for the seat belt buckle and getting slightly flustered, with her tongue sticking out between her teeth slightly.
I lean over and kiss her forehead, buckling the seat belt for her.
She looks at me, a wide dazzling smile on her face.
“I love you Pippa.” I say, smiling, glad she’s mine.
“ I love you too Rich, what’s brought this on, you’re not usually this soppy out in public.”
“I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens I will never treat you like that.” I jerk my head back to indicate what had just transpired.
“ I know you wouldn’t, “ she smiles, “cause I would track you down and whomp your ass.” she continues, laughing.
“Jon’s such a fucking ass at the moment. I am so glad I’m the only male in our family. Me you and Ava, and bump, of course. Means I don’t have to deal with any male bullshit.”
I start the engine but Pippa puts out a hand to stop me from driving off.
“Erm Rich, I didn’t have a chance to tell you this earlier but I got the sex of the baby this morning. Erm, get ready for some male bullshit.”
I can’t help it, I let out a whoop of joy and I smile broadly all the way home
Steph moved out last week which I know is upsetting Jon but him being who he is won’t talk about it. You’d think after the debacle ( see, Pip’s teaching me long words LOL) of Dot he’d have learned that to keep a relationship going you need to communicate but no, the writer of some of the world’s greatest rock songs is totally dry when it comes to his own life. God I just wanna smack his, and hers, let’s not forget about Jilly here, heads together.
Oh no let’s not forget about Jilly. She is not entirely innocent in all this at all. I think if she’d just come out and told Jon about her wanting to study at the time instead of hiding it from him then they wouldn’t have the trust issue that they obviously have at the moment.
I look over at the love of my life ( sorry, second love of my life, next to Ava) and smile at her. She smiles wryly back at me, through her fringe. She had her hair cut and invested in a pair of straighteners last week and I’m still trying to get used to shorter, straighter hair. Her hairdresser told her it would be easier to manage once the baby arrives and she’d be better off getting used to it now than later. That’s all right for the hairdresser to say but he’s not the one who misses running his hands through her glorious mane of curls.
I have had enough of this shit.
“Ok you two, start talking or me and Pip are going home and you two can fucking get divorced for all I care.” I say, vehemently
Jon looks up at me, all startled blue eyes and pouty mouth.
“Jon you’re the eldest you start. Spill it man.”
He looks at me and knows I am serious. Hell he’s known me for how long now? He ought to fuckin well know when I’m being serious, still 25 years and only one major argument isn’t bad ya know.
“I never see you anymore.” Jon says quietly, but to this crowd it’s a fucking explosion.
“And who’s fault is that then?” Jilly counters, anger evident, “You’re in that bloody studio from sun up to sun set. Libby’s not even sure you still live here.”
“Don’t you fucking bring Libby into this.”
“And why not Jon? What am I supposed to tell her when she asks if Daddy’s coming home tonight and I haven’t the foggiest idea. Hmm?”
“What about you then? I’m surprised you take your head out of those books for long enough to realise you’ve got a fucking daughter.”
“I spend three hours a day studying! How dare you insinuate that I put that before Libby!”
I catch Pippa’s eye and she looks worried. This isn’t going the way I thought it would.
“I’ve only got your word for that. How the fuck do I know it’s only three hours? Huh?”
“Well maybe if you dragged your sorry arse out of that studio more often then you’d be able to see it for yourself wouldn’t you? But oh no, Jon Bon Jovi would never put his family before his fucking career, would you? Given half a chance between having a family and staying at home or losing the family and touring all year, you’d fucking tour wouldn’t you? Go on admit it.” Jilly half shout as Jon looks at her with a stubborn, mulish expression.
“Half the time I have no idea whether you’re really in the studio or what. Or should I say who? Don’t think I don’t know about those texts you’ve been getting late at night.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Jilly, most of those texts are from Stephie and the others are from Dot asking about Stephie.”
“Well at least one of your daughters knows her father’s interested in her at least.”
“What the fuck? Lib knows I love her.”
“Really? You ought to be here when she’s crying her eyes out convinced you don’t love her anymore cause you’re never here.” Jilly yells, angry tears making their way down her face.
“It’s not her I don’t love anymore.” He replys softly.
Jilly gasps, looking as if he’s just physically slapped her before her eyes well with tears. I can see she’s about to dart off and try to catch her to comfort her but she’s too quick for me. I can hear her sobbing as she runs off towards the house.
Jon lights a cigarette and looks out over his land.
I turn back to him and just stare at the worlds best exhibit of sheer stupidity.
“You stupid fuck.” I say in disgust, holding my hand out for Pippa to take to help her out of her seat.
I stand over from him as Pippa goes up to him to see if he’s ok. Fuck him. I don’t care anymore. And he wonders why his relationships don’t work out. Fucking prick.
“Pippa.” I say, sharper than I normally would, holding my hand out to her.
She kisses Jon on the cheek and walks to my side.
We walk back to the house in companionable silence, my arm round her waist. Although she’s six months gone it doesn’t show at all and she’s only just having to wear maternity clothes. I know Jilly laughingly said she hated her for it.
I love Pippa with all my heart and I know that no matter what happens we will never go the way of Jon and Jilly. Pippa may have her faults, and there are many lol, but she will tell me when something is wrong. Usually about 30 seconds after she’s discovered it, mind you. She is certainly not backwards in coming forwards.
As we walk through the house I can hear Jilly crying in the study. I keep hold of Pippa’s hand and she tries to break free to go to her friend.
“Pip, honey, let’s go home. I’m not having you get stressed out by all this bullshit. Jilly’s a grown woman, she has to learn to deal with this by herself.”
I can see Pippa’s not happy but she acquiesces and comes with me.
We reach our SUV and wearily climb into it. She is just so damn beautiful, she really is, even when she’s looking for the seat belt buckle and getting slightly flustered, with her tongue sticking out between her teeth slightly.
I lean over and kiss her forehead, buckling the seat belt for her.
She looks at me, a wide dazzling smile on her face.
“I love you Pippa.” I say, smiling, glad she’s mine.
“ I love you too Rich, what’s brought this on, you’re not usually this soppy out in public.”
“I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens I will never treat you like that.” I jerk my head back to indicate what had just transpired.
“ I know you wouldn’t, “ she smiles, “cause I would track you down and whomp your ass.” she continues, laughing.
“Jon’s such a fucking ass at the moment. I am so glad I’m the only male in our family. Me you and Ava, and bump, of course. Means I don’t have to deal with any male bullshit.”
I start the engine but Pippa puts out a hand to stop me from driving off.
“Erm Rich, I didn’t have a chance to tell you this earlier but I got the sex of the baby this morning. Erm, get ready for some male bullshit.”
I can’t help it, I let out a whoop of joy and I smile broadly all the way home
Thursday 19 March 2009
Part Seven - Pippa's Story
Yuk!
I hope that doesn’t show on my face. Gingerly I put the cup down and smile.
“Whaddya think? Jilly used to drink a gallon of that when she was pregnant. Swore she could feel it doing her some good.” Jon says, smiling at me.
“Erm, I think it’s an acquired taste. I’m not really a tea person, I prefer coffee myself.” I say, diplomatically. Green tea is just disgusting.
“Yeah well you know what the doc said hon, no caffeine, no alcohol and no cigarettes.” Richie pipes up from the sofa
“I can just tell this pregnancy’s gonna be a barrel of laughs. Somebody shoot me right now” I groan, laying my head down on the dining room table.
Richie just laughs, knowing that I don’t mean it and that I’m actually over the moon to be pregnant. Who knew that all these years of saying that I hated children was just a cover up for how much I hated my childhood. Richie knew, or at least had an inkling that all that much hatred had to be covering something else but it took a full year of intense therapy to bring it all out. I’ve even forgiven my mother. Well, vocally to Richie and my shrink at least. It’s gonna take a lot more before I go near that bitch again…,though I might show up at her funeral just to make sure she’s dead. See? Loads of anger, and now I know who it’s directed at I can start to like kids. Even Ava and I have had a civilised conversation. Ok, so I asked her if she wanted some pasta but it was a start, right? The answer was no if you’re wondering…
The front door opens and Jilly comes rushing in. I turn to look at her and in doing so catch a look on Jon’s face that I’ve never seen before, at least not directed at Jilly anyway. It’s not revulsion but it’s close. I look at Richie and he indicates that he saw it too. I move my head, flicking my hair in the direction of the garden, hoping my boyfriend will get the message and take Jon out there, but as usual he has no idea what I’m on about. Honestly, you’d think after being together for nearly four years he would have learned how to read my signals by now but no…must be man thing as I can read Jilly like a book and vice versa.
Thankfully she solves the problem by asking me to come into the garden with her.
I get up and follow her, eager to give her a hug. It’s only been a week since I found out I was pregnant but this’ll be the first time I’ve seen her seeing as Rich and I were on the Italian Riviera at the time and being a man he decided he couldn’t wait to tell the whole world and its whippet that he was a virile specimen of manhood and king of the lab (He’s just discovered Bones and is so hooked on it I feel that I should cite Tempe Brennan as the third person in our relationship! But it does give me the chance to drool over David Boreanaz - another tall, dark handsome man - hmmm think I’m seeing a pattern here…lol)
I sit down in one of the sun loungers that dot their immediate back garden area, honestly the whole estate covers approximately ten acres, give or take a couple of feet. It’s huge! I constantly get lost in the grounds whenever I’m here. In fact one time I was gone so long, just wandering around, that Richie had to come and find me. Needless to say we were a bit late getting back to the others as I managed to entice him into some outdoor loving! Trouble is now I’m pregnant he won’t entertain any naughty thoughts like that. God I’m only about six weeks gone but he’s treating me like cut crystal.
Hang on, Jilly has just lit a cigarette. What the fuck?
“Jilly? Since when do you smoke?” I ask, completely gob smacked as I’ve not seen her smoke for years.
“Oh about a week. It’s no biggie. Just helps, that’s all.” she says, obviously distracted. She must be, she hasn’t mentioned my impending motherhood once…yet.
“So pregnant? When did you decide that then?” she asks finally, sitting down in the shade of the umbrella, flicking her ash onto the grass.
I smile, I can’t help it.
“We’ve talked about it, seriously I mean, not just having Richie ask me all the time, for about 3 months and it just happened. I’m about six weeks gone, though to hear him indoors speak you’d think I was about to pop. Honestly he treats me like I’m some delicate piece of china that’s going to break if I do anything more strenuous than sitting down.” I laugh at the thought of the man who once fucked me so roughly I couldn’t sit for two days treating me like a china doll.
I stretch out on the lounger, enjoying the sunshine.
“So why are you smoking Jilly? I thought you’d given that up years ago.”
“Oh, I’ve gone back to Uni to do my Masters then my PhD and it just helps me deal with the stress.” she sighs
“What are you stressed about? Is the course harder than you thought?” I ask, puzzled as to what could be stressing her.
“Oh no the course is fine.” she sighs heavily, “It’s Jon. Although he says he okay with me going back to school I don’t think he is. He questions me if I’m ten minutes late home. I think he thinks I’m having an affair.”
I look at her incredulously. Surely she must be mistaken. Jon loves her with all his heart. Anyone who looks at them together can see that. I watch her staring into space and I’m really quite worried. This isn’t the Jilly I know. Before I can say anything to her, the love of my life comes over and wraps his arms around me.
“Hey babe.” he says, his deep honeyed voice causes shivers to go through me.
“Hey you.” I whisper back as I kiss his cheek.
“How’s my favourite redhead?” he asks, pushing me over on the lounger and sitting down.
“I’m your only redhead, doofus!” I joke, running my hand along his arm, feeling the muscles tense slightly as I do.
He leans towards me and nuzzles my neck, making me squeal with laughter as his stubble tickles the sensitive skin.
I look over at Jilly and notice a look on her face that I’ve not seen before, well not since she met Jon that is. Envy. She’s envious of me and I don’t know why.
I lean towards Richie’s ear and ask him to leave us alone for a bit.
He gets the hint and gets up.
“sayonara darlin’, don’t sit in the sun too much.” he says as he walks back towards the house.
I turn to wave then turn back to Jilly.
“How long have we known each other?” I ask her, squinting in the sun.
“What?” she asks, lighting another cigarette.
“it’s been what? 20 odd years?”
“about that. Why?” she asks
“And in that time have I ever not told you what was going on in my life?” I ask as I sit forward on the lounger and turn to face her.
She just shakes her head.
“So spill girlie. What is going on between you and Jon?”
A lone tear falls down her face and I’m up off the lounger and sat next to her before I can think.
“It’s all going wrong Pip, everything.” she starts to sob.
“Honey, tell me.” I urge her.
“I’ve not been happy for ages and I realised it was because I wanted to go back to Uni and get my Masters, but now I’ve started to do that I’m not so sure it was that to begin with.”, She says, getting up and pacing around so that the cigarette smoke is no where near me, “ Jon hates the fact that I’m not at home for him and Lib and he hates that I need to study when I am at home. I mean I’ve had to put up with his long hours stuck away in the studio, or him not being here when he’s touring so why can’t he accept my need to do other things? I feel so fucking trapped!” she states.
I’m not sure which shocks me more, her admitting to problems in her marriage or the fact that she swore. Jilly never swears. Except for when Jon married the first time.
I think I need to talk to Richie about this. Try to get both Jilly and Jon to sit down and talk their obvious problems through. I mean Richie did that for me, made me see that I was reacting to deeply buried problems in my everyday life so the least I can do is try to help my best friend.
It is in this pensive mood that Richie finds me as he comes to take me home.
I hope that doesn’t show on my face. Gingerly I put the cup down and smile.
“Whaddya think? Jilly used to drink a gallon of that when she was pregnant. Swore she could feel it doing her some good.” Jon says, smiling at me.
“Erm, I think it’s an acquired taste. I’m not really a tea person, I prefer coffee myself.” I say, diplomatically. Green tea is just disgusting.
“Yeah well you know what the doc said hon, no caffeine, no alcohol and no cigarettes.” Richie pipes up from the sofa
“I can just tell this pregnancy’s gonna be a barrel of laughs. Somebody shoot me right now” I groan, laying my head down on the dining room table.
Richie just laughs, knowing that I don’t mean it and that I’m actually over the moon to be pregnant. Who knew that all these years of saying that I hated children was just a cover up for how much I hated my childhood. Richie knew, or at least had an inkling that all that much hatred had to be covering something else but it took a full year of intense therapy to bring it all out. I’ve even forgiven my mother. Well, vocally to Richie and my shrink at least. It’s gonna take a lot more before I go near that bitch again…,though I might show up at her funeral just to make sure she’s dead. See? Loads of anger, and now I know who it’s directed at I can start to like kids. Even Ava and I have had a civilised conversation. Ok, so I asked her if she wanted some pasta but it was a start, right? The answer was no if you’re wondering…
The front door opens and Jilly comes rushing in. I turn to look at her and in doing so catch a look on Jon’s face that I’ve never seen before, at least not directed at Jilly anyway. It’s not revulsion but it’s close. I look at Richie and he indicates that he saw it too. I move my head, flicking my hair in the direction of the garden, hoping my boyfriend will get the message and take Jon out there, but as usual he has no idea what I’m on about. Honestly, you’d think after being together for nearly four years he would have learned how to read my signals by now but no…must be man thing as I can read Jilly like a book and vice versa.
Thankfully she solves the problem by asking me to come into the garden with her.
I get up and follow her, eager to give her a hug. It’s only been a week since I found out I was pregnant but this’ll be the first time I’ve seen her seeing as Rich and I were on the Italian Riviera at the time and being a man he decided he couldn’t wait to tell the whole world and its whippet that he was a virile specimen of manhood and king of the lab (He’s just discovered Bones and is so hooked on it I feel that I should cite Tempe Brennan as the third person in our relationship! But it does give me the chance to drool over David Boreanaz - another tall, dark handsome man - hmmm think I’m seeing a pattern here…lol)
I sit down in one of the sun loungers that dot their immediate back garden area, honestly the whole estate covers approximately ten acres, give or take a couple of feet. It’s huge! I constantly get lost in the grounds whenever I’m here. In fact one time I was gone so long, just wandering around, that Richie had to come and find me. Needless to say we were a bit late getting back to the others as I managed to entice him into some outdoor loving! Trouble is now I’m pregnant he won’t entertain any naughty thoughts like that. God I’m only about six weeks gone but he’s treating me like cut crystal.
Hang on, Jilly has just lit a cigarette. What the fuck?
“Jilly? Since when do you smoke?” I ask, completely gob smacked as I’ve not seen her smoke for years.
“Oh about a week. It’s no biggie. Just helps, that’s all.” she says, obviously distracted. She must be, she hasn’t mentioned my impending motherhood once…yet.
“So pregnant? When did you decide that then?” she asks finally, sitting down in the shade of the umbrella, flicking her ash onto the grass.
I smile, I can’t help it.
“We’ve talked about it, seriously I mean, not just having Richie ask me all the time, for about 3 months and it just happened. I’m about six weeks gone, though to hear him indoors speak you’d think I was about to pop. Honestly he treats me like I’m some delicate piece of china that’s going to break if I do anything more strenuous than sitting down.” I laugh at the thought of the man who once fucked me so roughly I couldn’t sit for two days treating me like a china doll.
I stretch out on the lounger, enjoying the sunshine.
“So why are you smoking Jilly? I thought you’d given that up years ago.”
“Oh, I’ve gone back to Uni to do my Masters then my PhD and it just helps me deal with the stress.” she sighs
“What are you stressed about? Is the course harder than you thought?” I ask, puzzled as to what could be stressing her.
“Oh no the course is fine.” she sighs heavily, “It’s Jon. Although he says he okay with me going back to school I don’t think he is. He questions me if I’m ten minutes late home. I think he thinks I’m having an affair.”
I look at her incredulously. Surely she must be mistaken. Jon loves her with all his heart. Anyone who looks at them together can see that. I watch her staring into space and I’m really quite worried. This isn’t the Jilly I know. Before I can say anything to her, the love of my life comes over and wraps his arms around me.
“Hey babe.” he says, his deep honeyed voice causes shivers to go through me.
“Hey you.” I whisper back as I kiss his cheek.
“How’s my favourite redhead?” he asks, pushing me over on the lounger and sitting down.
“I’m your only redhead, doofus!” I joke, running my hand along his arm, feeling the muscles tense slightly as I do.
He leans towards me and nuzzles my neck, making me squeal with laughter as his stubble tickles the sensitive skin.
I look over at Jilly and notice a look on her face that I’ve not seen before, well not since she met Jon that is. Envy. She’s envious of me and I don’t know why.
I lean towards Richie’s ear and ask him to leave us alone for a bit.
He gets the hint and gets up.
“sayonara darlin’, don’t sit in the sun too much.” he says as he walks back towards the house.
I turn to wave then turn back to Jilly.
“How long have we known each other?” I ask her, squinting in the sun.
“What?” she asks, lighting another cigarette.
“it’s been what? 20 odd years?”
“about that. Why?” she asks
“And in that time have I ever not told you what was going on in my life?” I ask as I sit forward on the lounger and turn to face her.
She just shakes her head.
“So spill girlie. What is going on between you and Jon?”
A lone tear falls down her face and I’m up off the lounger and sat next to her before I can think.
“It’s all going wrong Pip, everything.” she starts to sob.
“Honey, tell me.” I urge her.
“I’ve not been happy for ages and I realised it was because I wanted to go back to Uni and get my Masters, but now I’ve started to do that I’m not so sure it was that to begin with.”, She says, getting up and pacing around so that the cigarette smoke is no where near me, “ Jon hates the fact that I’m not at home for him and Lib and he hates that I need to study when I am at home. I mean I’ve had to put up with his long hours stuck away in the studio, or him not being here when he’s touring so why can’t he accept my need to do other things? I feel so fucking trapped!” she states.
I’m not sure which shocks me more, her admitting to problems in her marriage or the fact that she swore. Jilly never swears. Except for when Jon married the first time.
I think I need to talk to Richie about this. Try to get both Jilly and Jon to sit down and talk their obvious problems through. I mean Richie did that for me, made me see that I was reacting to deeply buried problems in my everyday life so the least I can do is try to help my best friend.
It is in this pensive mood that Richie finds me as he comes to take me home.
Sunday 8 March 2009
Part Six - Jon's Story
I’ve just hurt my wife
I could feel her wincing as I slammed into her but I just couldn’t stop myself. I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t see the hurt on her face or the silent accusations on her beautiful face.
I stand under the shower feeling the hot water trying to wash away my worry. Jilly is my life but she’s been so different these past six months that I’m scared to ask why just in case she’s gone off me or something. You might think I’m stupid for worrying but that’s exactly what happened with Dot. One day it was fine and the next we were talking divorce. I couldn’t bear it if Jilly feels like that.
I can’t believe I actually hurt her physically. I feel sick. Maybe if I just stand here and let the water flow for a few more minutes it’ll all go away and be back to normal. Now who’s being stupid? This ain’t gonna go away until we talk it through and if it’s over then I will just have to deal with it.
Oh god, I feel really sick. My heart is pounding and my chest hurts. I wish Richie were here. Well not right here as he’d be in the shower with me and that’s not a place I’d like to go. I just wish he was in the country so I could phone him and talk this through with him. He’d know what to say. My god, how many songs have I written? I’m even in the Songwriters Hall of Fame for Chrissake and I can’t think of a single thing to say to Jilly. My mind has gone blank and that’s never happened before. Not once, not even that time when I forgot the lyrics for a split second on stage. I was exhausted at the end of the Jersey tour and for a second or two I just couldn’t think of the lyrics of Livin’ but even then I recovered and finished the song. Course that tour damn near finished me and as for my voice? Well for a while I wasn’t sure I’d ever sing again but all through that my mind worked just fine, hell I even wrote Glory off the back of that damned tour after getting lost in the Desert for a few days with Dot. Damn, I thought I was gonna be some coyote’s meal at one point and hoped it’d choke to death on my hair but never once did I lose the ability to think.
Ok. Time to face the music, so to speak, plus my skin’s gone wrinkly and that’s just not a good look on me…
I walk back into the scene of the crime, cause it is a crime to hurt your loved ones deliberately and I knew I was. A balmy breeze is blowing the voile curtains in. She must be out on the balcony. It’s a peaceful place our balcony. It overlooks the Pacific and you can hear the surf pounding onto the sand below. Pounding. Not a word I want to think about right now.
I can see her out on the balcony, her short blonde hair shining in the moonlight. She has my robe on and, is she?, yes, she’s smoking one of my cigarettes.
Shit. She hasn’t smoked in years. Not since the day her ex blew his brains out in front of her. This must be bad. My god I’m not even 50 and I’m going to have two divorces behind me.
I know she’s not been happy for a while. I can see it in her eyes and her posture -when she thinks I’m not looking she slumps a little, like she has the weight of the world on her lovely shoulders. Oh god I bruised her as well. Well done Jonny Boy, how to alienate your wife and get divorced in two easy steps.
I can’t even think what could have happened to set this in motion? After all I’ve given her everything she could possibly want. She doesn’t want for anything; neither she nor Libby.
Oh…Libby.
My beautiful, precious daughter #2. I couldn’t bear to go through another battle like I did with Dot. Maybe if I give her custody she’ll let me see Lib when I want.
Oh for god’s sake Jon, get a grip. You’re not even sure what the problem is. Go out there and talk to her. She’s your wife. Your beautiful, loving wife. Who you just hurt, intentionally. Because you’re a git. A right git, as Jilly would call you. Me? I think I’m an asshole.
I walk out onto the balcony and look at her as she blows smoke out over the railings. All of a sudden I can feel anger towards her. I’m not the one to blame here. She is. If she’s not been happy for the past six months or so then she should’ve told me why, not left me to figure it out. She should’ve respected me that much but no she didn’t. Does she respect me? I thought so but now I’m not so sure.
She turns to look at me, apprehension in her eyes. I deserve that, at least.
“Jilly, we need to talk.” I say, my voice sounding odd in the stillness of the night. It’s as if all the local nocturnal creatures have taken the night off.
She nods and sits down at the glass table, leaning her cigarette in the Swarovski crystal ashtray that Richie had commissioned me for my 45th birthday. He told me if I was never going to give up then I should at least smoke surrounded by luxury. The moonlight glints off it as tendrils of blue smoke rise above it.
I sit down in the chair next to her and look at her. I can see a slight trail where she’s cried. Oh god I hope that wasn’t during though I have the horrible feeling that it was.
We sit in an uncomfortable silence, both waiting for the other to speak first. After an age I open my mouth but she beats me to it.
“Why?” she asks, lighting up another cigarette.
Childishly I want to say Why What? But I know exactly what she’s talking about. Why did I hurt her? I think about bluffing it out saying that I didn’t realise but of course she’d see straight through that one.
I look her straight in the eye as I reach over to snag a cigarette for myself. I remember the first time she asked me if I had a fag. I nearly fell off the sofa in shock. How was I to know that fag is UK slang for a cigarette and is not exclusively used to describe someone who’s gay.
“Why?” I asked, quietly trying to buy my brain some time, “Because I wanted to hurt you like you’ve hurt me that’s why.”
Way to go Jon, tell the truth! Now why didn’t I think of that before?
“Hurt you? How have I hurt you?” she asks, her voice rising with anger.
“How long have you been unhappy? About six months? And have you told me once what the matter is? No. And that hurts Jill.” I can see my use of her official name has shocked her into silence. I’ve almost never called her Jill or Jillian as she hates them. It’s always been Jilly. The last time I called her Jill was at our wedding.
She sits there silently, just smoking.
“Jilly, do you want a divorce?” I ask, quickly.
There, it’s out in the open. All I have to do now is be brave for the answer.
“What?” she asks, incredulously, rising from her seat to stand by the railings.
“Is it a divorce that you’re after? Have I made you that unhappy?” Oh boy the floodgates are open now. I ask one question and a whole herd of them are queuing up to be asked.
“Jon? What in hells name has gotten into you? Why would I want to divorce you? I love you, with all my heart, which you bloody well know,” She looks at me, her eyes suddenly suspicious of my questioning, “Why? Have you done something that would warrant a divorce?” she asks, tears suddenly appearing in her eyes.
Oh fuck! She thinks I’ve cheated on her.
“Oh hell Jilly, No! I’ve done nothing.” I say, really wanting to reach out to her but..I can’t, not yet, not till I find out what’s making her unhappy.
She sits back down and reaches for the cigarettes. There’s no point in me telling her that she doesn’t actually smoke, so I just pass her the lighter.
“Oh god Jon? Have I been that apparent?” she asks, looking straight at me, “I’m so sorry I was trying so hard to hide it. I never wanted to hurt you but there just didn’t seem to be a right way or time to tell you.”
My heart takes a sudden nose dive into my feet. I just know she’s going to tell me she’s been seeing someone else.
“I’ve made a decision and it’s going to have a major impact on everyone. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now but, what with dealing with Libby and having Stephanie some and stay - not that I begrudge her anything, cause I don’t, but it’s all added up and just made it more difficult to find the right time to tell you.”
“What’s his name?” I ask, my eyes hard to hide the pain.
“What? Who’s name? Dr Daughtry? Is that who you mean?”
“A doctor? You’ve been seeing a doctor?”
“Well yes, who else would I see?”
“And yet you don’t want a divorce?” I was confused by now.
“Jon? What the hell are you talking about? Of course I needed to see Dr Daughtry if I’m going to be her student while I study for my Masters.” As was she apparently.
“What?”
Jilly reaches over and takes my hands into hers. Such small hands, yet they fit perfectly into mine.
“Jon, I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you but I’m going back to school, well University to be precise, in order to study for my Masters and then my PhD. I am sorry Jon. I should’ve told you but I just didn’t want to hurt you by telling you that this isn’t enough for me. I need to do something else other than being a wife and mother. I want to be a CSI. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, I just never got round to it, partly due to Pippa and partly cause I just couldn’t be bothered. You’re not angry with me are you?” she asks, love shining through her eyes.
My heart bursts back into my chest and I laugh, a real deep belly laugh that has her smiling in perplexity.
“Oh come here my beautiful wife. I am so sorry for hurting you.” I mumble as I bury my face into her hair and breathe in her unique scent.
“Just don’t do it again.” she mutters back, wrapping her arms around my neck and stretching up on tip toes to kiss me.
“Jilly, next time you have a problem, just talk to me.” I ask her, thankful to have her back.
“Ok.” she whispers as she snuggles into me and we watch the play of moonlight on the ocean, content and safe with each other.
I could feel her wincing as I slammed into her but I just couldn’t stop myself. I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t see the hurt on her face or the silent accusations on her beautiful face.
I stand under the shower feeling the hot water trying to wash away my worry. Jilly is my life but she’s been so different these past six months that I’m scared to ask why just in case she’s gone off me or something. You might think I’m stupid for worrying but that’s exactly what happened with Dot. One day it was fine and the next we were talking divorce. I couldn’t bear it if Jilly feels like that.
I can’t believe I actually hurt her physically. I feel sick. Maybe if I just stand here and let the water flow for a few more minutes it’ll all go away and be back to normal. Now who’s being stupid? This ain’t gonna go away until we talk it through and if it’s over then I will just have to deal with it.
Oh god, I feel really sick. My heart is pounding and my chest hurts. I wish Richie were here. Well not right here as he’d be in the shower with me and that’s not a place I’d like to go. I just wish he was in the country so I could phone him and talk this through with him. He’d know what to say. My god, how many songs have I written? I’m even in the Songwriters Hall of Fame for Chrissake and I can’t think of a single thing to say to Jilly. My mind has gone blank and that’s never happened before. Not once, not even that time when I forgot the lyrics for a split second on stage. I was exhausted at the end of the Jersey tour and for a second or two I just couldn’t think of the lyrics of Livin’ but even then I recovered and finished the song. Course that tour damn near finished me and as for my voice? Well for a while I wasn’t sure I’d ever sing again but all through that my mind worked just fine, hell I even wrote Glory off the back of that damned tour after getting lost in the Desert for a few days with Dot. Damn, I thought I was gonna be some coyote’s meal at one point and hoped it’d choke to death on my hair but never once did I lose the ability to think.
Ok. Time to face the music, so to speak, plus my skin’s gone wrinkly and that’s just not a good look on me…
I walk back into the scene of the crime, cause it is a crime to hurt your loved ones deliberately and I knew I was. A balmy breeze is blowing the voile curtains in. She must be out on the balcony. It’s a peaceful place our balcony. It overlooks the Pacific and you can hear the surf pounding onto the sand below. Pounding. Not a word I want to think about right now.
I can see her out on the balcony, her short blonde hair shining in the moonlight. She has my robe on and, is she?, yes, she’s smoking one of my cigarettes.
Shit. She hasn’t smoked in years. Not since the day her ex blew his brains out in front of her. This must be bad. My god I’m not even 50 and I’m going to have two divorces behind me.
I know she’s not been happy for a while. I can see it in her eyes and her posture -when she thinks I’m not looking she slumps a little, like she has the weight of the world on her lovely shoulders. Oh god I bruised her as well. Well done Jonny Boy, how to alienate your wife and get divorced in two easy steps.
I can’t even think what could have happened to set this in motion? After all I’ve given her everything she could possibly want. She doesn’t want for anything; neither she nor Libby.
Oh…Libby.
My beautiful, precious daughter #2. I couldn’t bear to go through another battle like I did with Dot. Maybe if I give her custody she’ll let me see Lib when I want.
Oh for god’s sake Jon, get a grip. You’re not even sure what the problem is. Go out there and talk to her. She’s your wife. Your beautiful, loving wife. Who you just hurt, intentionally. Because you’re a git. A right git, as Jilly would call you. Me? I think I’m an asshole.
I walk out onto the balcony and look at her as she blows smoke out over the railings. All of a sudden I can feel anger towards her. I’m not the one to blame here. She is. If she’s not been happy for the past six months or so then she should’ve told me why, not left me to figure it out. She should’ve respected me that much but no she didn’t. Does she respect me? I thought so but now I’m not so sure.
She turns to look at me, apprehension in her eyes. I deserve that, at least.
“Jilly, we need to talk.” I say, my voice sounding odd in the stillness of the night. It’s as if all the local nocturnal creatures have taken the night off.
She nods and sits down at the glass table, leaning her cigarette in the Swarovski crystal ashtray that Richie had commissioned me for my 45th birthday. He told me if I was never going to give up then I should at least smoke surrounded by luxury. The moonlight glints off it as tendrils of blue smoke rise above it.
I sit down in the chair next to her and look at her. I can see a slight trail where she’s cried. Oh god I hope that wasn’t during though I have the horrible feeling that it was.
We sit in an uncomfortable silence, both waiting for the other to speak first. After an age I open my mouth but she beats me to it.
“Why?” she asks, lighting up another cigarette.
Childishly I want to say Why What? But I know exactly what she’s talking about. Why did I hurt her? I think about bluffing it out saying that I didn’t realise but of course she’d see straight through that one.
I look her straight in the eye as I reach over to snag a cigarette for myself. I remember the first time she asked me if I had a fag. I nearly fell off the sofa in shock. How was I to know that fag is UK slang for a cigarette and is not exclusively used to describe someone who’s gay.
“Why?” I asked, quietly trying to buy my brain some time, “Because I wanted to hurt you like you’ve hurt me that’s why.”
Way to go Jon, tell the truth! Now why didn’t I think of that before?
“Hurt you? How have I hurt you?” she asks, her voice rising with anger.
“How long have you been unhappy? About six months? And have you told me once what the matter is? No. And that hurts Jill.” I can see my use of her official name has shocked her into silence. I’ve almost never called her Jill or Jillian as she hates them. It’s always been Jilly. The last time I called her Jill was at our wedding.
She sits there silently, just smoking.
“Jilly, do you want a divorce?” I ask, quickly.
There, it’s out in the open. All I have to do now is be brave for the answer.
“What?” she asks, incredulously, rising from her seat to stand by the railings.
“Is it a divorce that you’re after? Have I made you that unhappy?” Oh boy the floodgates are open now. I ask one question and a whole herd of them are queuing up to be asked.
“Jon? What in hells name has gotten into you? Why would I want to divorce you? I love you, with all my heart, which you bloody well know,” She looks at me, her eyes suddenly suspicious of my questioning, “Why? Have you done something that would warrant a divorce?” she asks, tears suddenly appearing in her eyes.
Oh fuck! She thinks I’ve cheated on her.
“Oh hell Jilly, No! I’ve done nothing.” I say, really wanting to reach out to her but..I can’t, not yet, not till I find out what’s making her unhappy.
She sits back down and reaches for the cigarettes. There’s no point in me telling her that she doesn’t actually smoke, so I just pass her the lighter.
“Oh god Jon? Have I been that apparent?” she asks, looking straight at me, “I’m so sorry I was trying so hard to hide it. I never wanted to hurt you but there just didn’t seem to be a right way or time to tell you.”
My heart takes a sudden nose dive into my feet. I just know she’s going to tell me she’s been seeing someone else.
“I’ve made a decision and it’s going to have a major impact on everyone. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now but, what with dealing with Libby and having Stephanie some and stay - not that I begrudge her anything, cause I don’t, but it’s all added up and just made it more difficult to find the right time to tell you.”
“What’s his name?” I ask, my eyes hard to hide the pain.
“What? Who’s name? Dr Daughtry? Is that who you mean?”
“A doctor? You’ve been seeing a doctor?”
“Well yes, who else would I see?”
“And yet you don’t want a divorce?” I was confused by now.
“Jon? What the hell are you talking about? Of course I needed to see Dr Daughtry if I’m going to be her student while I study for my Masters.” As was she apparently.
“What?”
Jilly reaches over and takes my hands into hers. Such small hands, yet they fit perfectly into mine.
“Jon, I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you but I’m going back to school, well University to be precise, in order to study for my Masters and then my PhD. I am sorry Jon. I should’ve told you but I just didn’t want to hurt you by telling you that this isn’t enough for me. I need to do something else other than being a wife and mother. I want to be a CSI. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, I just never got round to it, partly due to Pippa and partly cause I just couldn’t be bothered. You’re not angry with me are you?” she asks, love shining through her eyes.
My heart bursts back into my chest and I laugh, a real deep belly laugh that has her smiling in perplexity.
“Oh come here my beautiful wife. I am so sorry for hurting you.” I mumble as I bury my face into her hair and breathe in her unique scent.
“Just don’t do it again.” she mutters back, wrapping her arms around my neck and stretching up on tip toes to kiss me.
“Jilly, next time you have a problem, just talk to me.” I ask her, thankful to have her back.
“Ok.” she whispers as she snuggles into me and we watch the play of moonlight on the ocean, content and safe with each other.
Part Five - Jilly's Story
Oh my god! Pippa’s pregnant!
I look at what I’ve written in my diary and smile. It was so unexpected and yet so like Pip to just change her mind about children and go for it. Funnily enough it wasn’t Pip that told me but Jon. Apparently Richie’s just called to tell him and to apologise to me that Pip wasn’t the one to tell me. They’re on holiday at the moment, god knows where. I can never tell with Pippa as she’s so prone to changing her mind on the spur of the moment that they might be in Italy where they’re supposed to be or on some little island in the South Pacific.
Jon settles down on the bed next to me, smiling away like it’s me that’s expecting. I’m so glad and happy for Pippa. I know she had a hard time growing up; I was there for most of it, and I’m just so happy for them. I can’t wait till they get back so I can hug her and give her some advice on how to cope with morning sickness - don’t get out of bed before midday, and putting on weight - buy bigger clothes.
Jon looks at me strangely as I’ve started giggling over what I’ve just thought. It’s only 8pm here but I’m so tired I think I’m going to fall asleep sitting up. Libby was a right little madam today and just about wore me out. I kept trying to tell her that play doh was not to be eaten but would she listen to me? Of course not, I’m only her mum. It took daddy to sort everything out plus big sister to lend a hand. I swear sometimes the three of them wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t there.
Stephanie has now moved in with us as she’s going to attend a college in California in the fall. She wants to be a hair stylist, like her uncle. Her dad has offered to pay for her to attend an exclusive salon in London but no, she’s a Bongiovi - wants to do it all herself and control everything along the way. Her dad should be so proud; she’s turned out just like him. I’m beginning to sound like a right cow aren’t I? It’s just that my life has turned out so perfectly that I’m actually bored. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean of Jon and the kids. No way, I love them to pieces and my husband knows he holds my heart and always will, it’s just it seems that there’s nothing for me to do. Stephanie has taken over care of Libby. She’s just turned three and Stephanie will be 18 in a few days.
I live in a wonderful house, surrounded by wonderful gardens that are taken care of for me by a team of gardeners who won’t let me near the plants and shrubs. I have a wonderful extended family and a husband I will love to my dying days and yet some days I feel that it’s not enough. I feel trapped and hemmed in. I’ve never been one for wild living (except for the night I married Jon), I’ve always left that up to Pippa but now? I feel like I missed out on something. She was the wild one in our teens and I was the studious little bookworm who always did her homework ( and Pippa’s) and never missed a day of school. I’m 33 and have all a woman could ever want. Could it be that I just don’t want it anymore? Or that I want more? Call me Oliver……..
Jon’s noticed a change in me over the past six months. He and the guys have taken a break from each other to do their own thing for a year or so after Richie nearly had a nervous breakdown on reaching 50 and realising that his dad was only 20 years older when he died.
I know he’s looking at me. I can feel him staring as I’ve only actually written one line in my diary but have been staring into space for what must be 15 minutes or so. I know I need to tell him how I feel but I don’t know how. This was how his first marriage ended, with Dot becoming more and more distant from him as she felt more and more trapped behind the gates and the band name. For me to tell Jon that I’m beginning to feel the same would break his heart and I just can’t bring myself to do that.
I have to say that this was so not how I saw myself at 33. I always thought I’d have a doctorate in Forensic Science and be working for the Metropolitan Police CSI unit. It was something I’d always wanted to do but I guess life and Pippa just got in the way and I left University with a First in Criminolgy and Forensics but instead of going back to do my Masters followed by my PhD I drifted into office work, opting to work at the same office as Pippa did, in the heart of London’s West End. The fact that it was for a film company was just a bonus.
Is that it? Do I feel that I’ve wasted my opportunities? That I’ve opted for a family instead of what I wanted to do? I sit here with the heart sinking feeling that I feel that I just settled.
I let out a huge sigh and run my hands through my hair. I had to have it chopped short as dealing with Libby is not conducive to having very long hair. It’s now the length Jon’s was when Keep The Faith came out and pretty much the same style, only more feminine!
Jon turns to me and raises an eyebrow. I know he’s worried but what can I say? That he’s not enough for me? That Libby’s not enough? That I feel that I’ve missed out by settling for a family when what I really wanted to do was to be elbows deep in blood and guts figuring out how some poor schmuck died?
And that it’s taken being married to the hottest, sexiest man around, having a gorgeous daughter who is a joy to be around ( when she’s not eating Play Doh, that is) and living in the biggest house I’ve ever seen to make me realise it?
Oh crap, I’m going to have to say something I can feel the unspoken question being asked as he runs his fingers along my hairline, rubbing the sensitive skin there. I start to relax. Jon may know lots of things but one thing he does know is how to make me relax and he’s doing it. My neck has always been very sensitive to touch and he knows just where to touch to make me alternate between relaxation and sensuality.
I hear a groan. Oh it’s me.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and he’s apparently reading the NY Times. How the hell can he do that? Read something and make me melt at the same time? Especially when I’m in knots inside.
“If you’re going to continue your ministrations, oh husband of mine, then put the goddamn paper down.” I say, growling slightly, “Otherwise I’m going to turn in for the night.”
The paper hit’s the floor before I’ve finished speaking and I can feel his lips, those talented, sexy, pouty lips kissing and nibbling where his hand just was. Oh, he knows how to drive me insane all right. I push all my problems down as far as I can as I want to enjoy this. I do enjoy sex with my husband, usually twice a day or three times if I’m lucky and he knows once he starts with those talented and very flexible fingers of his that I’m just putty in his hands. All coherent thought flies out of my overtaxed brain as he slides my tank top off my shoulders, placing his warm hands at the top of my arms and, squeezing slightly, begins to rock me back and forth gently to loosen up my muscles. The tank has fallen down past my breasts and has puddled around my lap. I lean my head back onto his chest as he sits on his haunches behind me, kissing my shoulders and neck.
I lean my neck to one side to give him greater access to the soft, sweet skin that’s there. He take me up on my offer and suckles greedily, his even white teeth nibbling the skin softly as his tongue makes swipes along my heated flesh.
Almost leisurely he runs his hands up and down my arms, his knuckles brushing against my breasts so faintly I’m not sure if it’s deliberate or not. Whatever it is it’s sweet torture and Jon knows it.
Oh….it was definitely deliberate I think as he reaches out a finger to side swipe my nipple. My sharp intake of breath tells him he’s on the money with that move.
I can feel my juices flowing already and he hasn’t even gotten near that area. It’s amazing how one person can have this much effect on another, but all I know is that my feelings for him sexually haven’t changed over the past three odd years and I doubt they ever will.
Gently he reaches out and cups both breasts, squeezing the soft, tender underside skin with expert care and attention. I roll my head back onto his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed as the familiar feelings start to build up in me. Little shocks of electricity zapping out now and again to give a preview of what is to come; namely me followed by Jon…..
Oh ok, now his hands have drifted lower and have met around my middle with the sole intention of delving into the waistband of my sleep shorts. I can feel his passion; literally - it’s digging into my back and I smile, knowing that very soon it’ll be burrowing deep inside me.
Pippa has often regaled me with stories of her and Richie’s love life - I never asked for them but was given them all the same. Apparently they do role playing games and dress up for each other. I know that works for some people but all Jon needs to do is look at me a certain way and I get wet, which he does, with great pleasure on his part, when we’re out in a public place and there’s nothing I can do about it. Sometimes I think of getting my own back and refusing to sleep with him but my traitorous body won’t let me as it responds to Jon’s voice, touch and scent with an almost pavlovian regard and he knows it.
My body has already begun its response and the scent of my arousal is evident as his hands burrow deep into my shorts. I part my legs to give him access and moan out loud as his fingers come into contact with my very engorged and wet clit. I try and twist my arms behind my back to touch him but he has me trapped. Funny that, as this time I don’t mind being trapped. I can’t really think as I feel him enter two digits inside me, rolling my clit with his other hand as he does so.
I am so near I can feel the pins and needles beginning in my toes. I flex them back and forth, wanting the feeling to travel up my legs and feel rather than hear Jon chuckle against my back as he realises what I’m doing.
“Just relax darlin’, if you try and force it, it’ll go away.” he whispers huskily as he pinches my clit expertly between thumb and forefinger, still pumping in and out of me with his other hand.
Oh yes! Oh god yes! Oh my fucking lord yes! My mind is on the verge of shutting down as a jagged bolt of white heat runs the length of my body before settling directly on my clit. I scream Jon’s name as my orgasm sweeps through me, taking away my ability to form coherent speech or thought.
I can feel my internal muscles still fluttering as I come down from the high that he and only he can give me. I know I’m not being fair on him and that I will need to talk to him soon but right now? All I want is his cock buried to the hilt inside me.
I must have said that out loud as the next thing I know he’s on top of me, my shorts have hit the floor, and the tip of his cock is at my entrance. I hook my legs round him to guide him in slowly, which he does as he knows I love that. The feeling of him being my perfect fit is awe inducing and a feeling I can quite happily feel twice daily for the rest of my life.
Barely giving me a chance to get used to him he pulls out and slams back into me, the tip of him hitting my cervix, which, if done right can be extremely pleasurable. Unfortunately it’s not one of those times and I wince as it feels like he’s about to come through my belly button.
I look up at him, a quizzical look on my face, but his eyes are shut, his hair hanging down, sweat dripping down his face and onto me as he moves in and out of me, getting faster and faster as he does so. I know he’s near. I can tell. There are a myriad of tells that he does that indicate this but all I want right now is for it to be over. It hasn’t occurred to me to ask him to stop. Why would I? After all I’ve had my pleasure, it’s only fair he gets his, I just wish it wasn’t hurting.
It really hurts now and I can feel a tear slipping down my cheek as he slams in and out, grunting, his hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I think he’s caused a bruise. Silently I lie there allowing my husband to use my body for his won gratification. You may ask me why and I would reply, because he’s never done anything like this before and I want to know why.
Finally he shouts and buries his seed deep within me, before rolling off and heading to the shower without uttering a single word. I get up too and walk over to the balcony, pulling on his robe as I open the doors, letting the balmy May air in.
I put my hand in the pockets and find a packet of cigarettes. I haven’t smoked for years but right now? I want one so I do.
It is with cigarette in hand that Jon finds me a few minutes later.. I turn to look at my handsome husband as he steps out onto the balcony, a white towel round his waist and his hair dripping water over the floor tiles. I can’t see the colour of his eyes as the moonlight has bleached everything to shades of blue but I can see the worry and anger in them as he looks at me.
“Jilly, we need to talk,”
I look at what I’ve written in my diary and smile. It was so unexpected and yet so like Pip to just change her mind about children and go for it. Funnily enough it wasn’t Pip that told me but Jon. Apparently Richie’s just called to tell him and to apologise to me that Pip wasn’t the one to tell me. They’re on holiday at the moment, god knows where. I can never tell with Pippa as she’s so prone to changing her mind on the spur of the moment that they might be in Italy where they’re supposed to be or on some little island in the South Pacific.
Jon settles down on the bed next to me, smiling away like it’s me that’s expecting. I’m so glad and happy for Pippa. I know she had a hard time growing up; I was there for most of it, and I’m just so happy for them. I can’t wait till they get back so I can hug her and give her some advice on how to cope with morning sickness - don’t get out of bed before midday, and putting on weight - buy bigger clothes.
Jon looks at me strangely as I’ve started giggling over what I’ve just thought. It’s only 8pm here but I’m so tired I think I’m going to fall asleep sitting up. Libby was a right little madam today and just about wore me out. I kept trying to tell her that play doh was not to be eaten but would she listen to me? Of course not, I’m only her mum. It took daddy to sort everything out plus big sister to lend a hand. I swear sometimes the three of them wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t there.
Stephanie has now moved in with us as she’s going to attend a college in California in the fall. She wants to be a hair stylist, like her uncle. Her dad has offered to pay for her to attend an exclusive salon in London but no, she’s a Bongiovi - wants to do it all herself and control everything along the way. Her dad should be so proud; she’s turned out just like him. I’m beginning to sound like a right cow aren’t I? It’s just that my life has turned out so perfectly that I’m actually bored. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean of Jon and the kids. No way, I love them to pieces and my husband knows he holds my heart and always will, it’s just it seems that there’s nothing for me to do. Stephanie has taken over care of Libby. She’s just turned three and Stephanie will be 18 in a few days.
I live in a wonderful house, surrounded by wonderful gardens that are taken care of for me by a team of gardeners who won’t let me near the plants and shrubs. I have a wonderful extended family and a husband I will love to my dying days and yet some days I feel that it’s not enough. I feel trapped and hemmed in. I’ve never been one for wild living (except for the night I married Jon), I’ve always left that up to Pippa but now? I feel like I missed out on something. She was the wild one in our teens and I was the studious little bookworm who always did her homework ( and Pippa’s) and never missed a day of school. I’m 33 and have all a woman could ever want. Could it be that I just don’t want it anymore? Or that I want more? Call me Oliver……..
Jon’s noticed a change in me over the past six months. He and the guys have taken a break from each other to do their own thing for a year or so after Richie nearly had a nervous breakdown on reaching 50 and realising that his dad was only 20 years older when he died.
I know he’s looking at me. I can feel him staring as I’ve only actually written one line in my diary but have been staring into space for what must be 15 minutes or so. I know I need to tell him how I feel but I don’t know how. This was how his first marriage ended, with Dot becoming more and more distant from him as she felt more and more trapped behind the gates and the band name. For me to tell Jon that I’m beginning to feel the same would break his heart and I just can’t bring myself to do that.
I have to say that this was so not how I saw myself at 33. I always thought I’d have a doctorate in Forensic Science and be working for the Metropolitan Police CSI unit. It was something I’d always wanted to do but I guess life and Pippa just got in the way and I left University with a First in Criminolgy and Forensics but instead of going back to do my Masters followed by my PhD I drifted into office work, opting to work at the same office as Pippa did, in the heart of London’s West End. The fact that it was for a film company was just a bonus.
Is that it? Do I feel that I’ve wasted my opportunities? That I’ve opted for a family instead of what I wanted to do? I sit here with the heart sinking feeling that I feel that I just settled.
I let out a huge sigh and run my hands through my hair. I had to have it chopped short as dealing with Libby is not conducive to having very long hair. It’s now the length Jon’s was when Keep The Faith came out and pretty much the same style, only more feminine!
Jon turns to me and raises an eyebrow. I know he’s worried but what can I say? That he’s not enough for me? That Libby’s not enough? That I feel that I’ve missed out by settling for a family when what I really wanted to do was to be elbows deep in blood and guts figuring out how some poor schmuck died?
And that it’s taken being married to the hottest, sexiest man around, having a gorgeous daughter who is a joy to be around ( when she’s not eating Play Doh, that is) and living in the biggest house I’ve ever seen to make me realise it?
Oh crap, I’m going to have to say something I can feel the unspoken question being asked as he runs his fingers along my hairline, rubbing the sensitive skin there. I start to relax. Jon may know lots of things but one thing he does know is how to make me relax and he’s doing it. My neck has always been very sensitive to touch and he knows just where to touch to make me alternate between relaxation and sensuality.
I hear a groan. Oh it’s me.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and he’s apparently reading the NY Times. How the hell can he do that? Read something and make me melt at the same time? Especially when I’m in knots inside.
“If you’re going to continue your ministrations, oh husband of mine, then put the goddamn paper down.” I say, growling slightly, “Otherwise I’m going to turn in for the night.”
The paper hit’s the floor before I’ve finished speaking and I can feel his lips, those talented, sexy, pouty lips kissing and nibbling where his hand just was. Oh, he knows how to drive me insane all right. I push all my problems down as far as I can as I want to enjoy this. I do enjoy sex with my husband, usually twice a day or three times if I’m lucky and he knows once he starts with those talented and very flexible fingers of his that I’m just putty in his hands. All coherent thought flies out of my overtaxed brain as he slides my tank top off my shoulders, placing his warm hands at the top of my arms and, squeezing slightly, begins to rock me back and forth gently to loosen up my muscles. The tank has fallen down past my breasts and has puddled around my lap. I lean my head back onto his chest as he sits on his haunches behind me, kissing my shoulders and neck.
I lean my neck to one side to give him greater access to the soft, sweet skin that’s there. He take me up on my offer and suckles greedily, his even white teeth nibbling the skin softly as his tongue makes swipes along my heated flesh.
Almost leisurely he runs his hands up and down my arms, his knuckles brushing against my breasts so faintly I’m not sure if it’s deliberate or not. Whatever it is it’s sweet torture and Jon knows it.
Oh….it was definitely deliberate I think as he reaches out a finger to side swipe my nipple. My sharp intake of breath tells him he’s on the money with that move.
I can feel my juices flowing already and he hasn’t even gotten near that area. It’s amazing how one person can have this much effect on another, but all I know is that my feelings for him sexually haven’t changed over the past three odd years and I doubt they ever will.
Gently he reaches out and cups both breasts, squeezing the soft, tender underside skin with expert care and attention. I roll my head back onto his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed as the familiar feelings start to build up in me. Little shocks of electricity zapping out now and again to give a preview of what is to come; namely me followed by Jon…..
Oh ok, now his hands have drifted lower and have met around my middle with the sole intention of delving into the waistband of my sleep shorts. I can feel his passion; literally - it’s digging into my back and I smile, knowing that very soon it’ll be burrowing deep inside me.
Pippa has often regaled me with stories of her and Richie’s love life - I never asked for them but was given them all the same. Apparently they do role playing games and dress up for each other. I know that works for some people but all Jon needs to do is look at me a certain way and I get wet, which he does, with great pleasure on his part, when we’re out in a public place and there’s nothing I can do about it. Sometimes I think of getting my own back and refusing to sleep with him but my traitorous body won’t let me as it responds to Jon’s voice, touch and scent with an almost pavlovian regard and he knows it.
My body has already begun its response and the scent of my arousal is evident as his hands burrow deep into my shorts. I part my legs to give him access and moan out loud as his fingers come into contact with my very engorged and wet clit. I try and twist my arms behind my back to touch him but he has me trapped. Funny that, as this time I don’t mind being trapped. I can’t really think as I feel him enter two digits inside me, rolling my clit with his other hand as he does so.
I am so near I can feel the pins and needles beginning in my toes. I flex them back and forth, wanting the feeling to travel up my legs and feel rather than hear Jon chuckle against my back as he realises what I’m doing.
“Just relax darlin’, if you try and force it, it’ll go away.” he whispers huskily as he pinches my clit expertly between thumb and forefinger, still pumping in and out of me with his other hand.
Oh yes! Oh god yes! Oh my fucking lord yes! My mind is on the verge of shutting down as a jagged bolt of white heat runs the length of my body before settling directly on my clit. I scream Jon’s name as my orgasm sweeps through me, taking away my ability to form coherent speech or thought.
I can feel my internal muscles still fluttering as I come down from the high that he and only he can give me. I know I’m not being fair on him and that I will need to talk to him soon but right now? All I want is his cock buried to the hilt inside me.
I must have said that out loud as the next thing I know he’s on top of me, my shorts have hit the floor, and the tip of his cock is at my entrance. I hook my legs round him to guide him in slowly, which he does as he knows I love that. The feeling of him being my perfect fit is awe inducing and a feeling I can quite happily feel twice daily for the rest of my life.
Barely giving me a chance to get used to him he pulls out and slams back into me, the tip of him hitting my cervix, which, if done right can be extremely pleasurable. Unfortunately it’s not one of those times and I wince as it feels like he’s about to come through my belly button.
I look up at him, a quizzical look on my face, but his eyes are shut, his hair hanging down, sweat dripping down his face and onto me as he moves in and out of me, getting faster and faster as he does so. I know he’s near. I can tell. There are a myriad of tells that he does that indicate this but all I want right now is for it to be over. It hasn’t occurred to me to ask him to stop. Why would I? After all I’ve had my pleasure, it’s only fair he gets his, I just wish it wasn’t hurting.
It really hurts now and I can feel a tear slipping down my cheek as he slams in and out, grunting, his hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I think he’s caused a bruise. Silently I lie there allowing my husband to use my body for his won gratification. You may ask me why and I would reply, because he’s never done anything like this before and I want to know why.
Finally he shouts and buries his seed deep within me, before rolling off and heading to the shower without uttering a single word. I get up too and walk over to the balcony, pulling on his robe as I open the doors, letting the balmy May air in.
I put my hand in the pockets and find a packet of cigarettes. I haven’t smoked for years but right now? I want one so I do.
It is with cigarette in hand that Jon finds me a few minutes later.. I turn to look at my handsome husband as he steps out onto the balcony, a white towel round his waist and his hair dripping water over the floor tiles. I can’t see the colour of his eyes as the moonlight has bleached everything to shades of blue but I can see the worry and anger in them as he looks at me.
“Jilly, we need to talk,”
Sunday 22 February 2009
Part Four - Richie's story
I love kids I really do and I wish I had more than just the one, not that she’s not enough for me as she is, still it would’ve been nice to have had a whole brood ya know? Sitting here watching Jilly as she moves effortlessly around the house, taking care of everyone, including all us band guys and our families as well as various in laws and siblings, not to mention Jon and his brood, as well as their own child, Libby, for who’s christening party we’re all here, and I am lost in admiration for her. I see Pippa over the other side of the room and she’s holding Libby.
Wow, I wish I had a camera. Now that is a definite Kodak moment. To see my woman, the professional child hater, holding and, hang on, is that? Yes, cooing over a baby is a revelation. It’s one of the things we argue about, in fact the only thing we ever argue about. I don’t get how a woman can have such a major dislike for children. I mean isn’t that what women are here for? To be maternal and all that? Now before you start on me that’s not what I mean at all. I know women are just as important as men but they are the ones that conceive and carry then give birth to children, it’s part of their genetic make up so to meet one who professes to hate them is a bit weird, that’s all. I just know I’m gonna get hate mail for this.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her. I wonder if I can closer and capture her on my phone with Libby in her arms. I just don’t get it man, she looks so natural holding Libby and playing with her fingers and toes, her long red curls draping over her shoulders and being played with by Libby. As I try to make my way over to her, quietly, I can see Jon watching her as well. He’s such a protective person these days. I mean he’s always been there for us all but ever since he met Jilly, it’s like he wants to wrap her and their child up in cotton wool and protect them from the world. He looks every inch the proud papa. Stephanie and Jesse are in the kitchen with Ava, helping Jilly get the food ready for all us starving people. Jake and Romeo are somewhere outside with playing football with Colt, David’s kid.
Shit man, how did I get here? One minute I’m Mr Rock Star and the next I’m surrounded by kids and sharing the spotlight for the poster band for Family Life. It’s fucking crazy I tell you. I mean all of us have been married and divorced at least once and we’ve all got kids now. We’re almost suburban. Almost….
I am so near to Pip that I can smell her perfume, L’Ombre dans l’eau, before you ask, by diptyque. It’s French, in case you were wondering and has a dry smoky scent that drives me wild. She knows it does. She’s tormenting me at the moment cause I asked her again this morning about having a child together. I won’t repeat what she said only to say I’m glad Ava wasn’t around! I’ve got her framed in my phone. She’s got hold of Libby’s foot and is making her laugh by gently pulling her little toes.
Click! The camera was a bit louder than I realised and now she’s mad with me for taking it but she looked so fucking adorable with Libby that I wanted to capture it. Ha! Getting my own back as she knows she can’t move while Libby’s on her lap. Jon’s in the kitchen, supposedly helping Jilly, but we all know he’s gone in there to kiss her.
“Hey babe.” I say.
“Hey.” she answers, not looking at me but seemingly captivated by this tiny baby, “Isn’t she adorable Rich?”
Eh? Is this Pippa speaking? My Pip? Ok, who are you and what have you done with Pippa?
“Yeah, she is. Be interesting to see who she takes after. Jon’s other kids all share his features.” I say, nonchalantly, though my heart is bursting with love for this woman.
I sit on the edge of the chair she’s sat in and reach over to stroke Libby’s soft baby skin, smelling that universal baby smell of milk and talcum powder.
I breath it in deeply, closing my eyes, a big smile on my face. God I love that smell. That gorgeous clean baby smell that just makes you want to hold on to them and never let them go. It seems Pip isn’t as unaffected as she’d like as she breathes in deeply as well and then sighs.
Libby really is a gorgeous baby, she had a dusting of light brown/blonde hair and the most amazing electric blue eyes that just seem to stare right into your soul. I remember being at the hospital when she was born, as Jon had been in the studio when Jilly went into labour and had been in no fit state to drive, and I was taken right back to when Ava was born. To see another life come from the one you love is the most humbling experience I’ve ever had and I remember just sitting for hours staring at her, unable to take my eyes off her. She was my child. Mine.
I catch Pippa looking at me with a strange expression on her face, almost wistful, and I lean over to drop a kiss on the top of her curls.
I know she has a problem bonding with people, she told me about quite early on in our relationship but I wish she would go and see someone about it and move past it. Whatever happened, happened in the past and can’t be changed. All she can do is change her reaction to it.
Jon comes over.
“Hey Rich, Pip. Can I take her? Jilly needs to feed her.”
“Yeah sure Jon.” Pippa says as she scoops her up to hand her over to her proud daddy.
“She been ok?”
“Oh she’s been fine, we’ve been playing pull the toes. It’s a new game but I’m sure it’ll catch on.” Pippa smiles up at him as he takes his precious cargo and walks off to where Jilly’s waiting.
Pippa leans back in her chair and stretches her neck.
“You got knots babe?” I ask, gently pressing down on her shoulders.
The wince followed by a groan tell me I’m correct. Still she has spent the better part of an hour all hunched up, playing with Libby, so I’m not really surprised.
“Mmm” she whispers as I press harder.
She turns away from me, holding her hair out of the way and presenting me with her back. I put both hands on her shoulder and begin the massage. I dig deep knowing she loves it, feeling the skin and muscle become more pliant under my touch.
“I love the smell of babies. Don’t you?” I ask, knowing she’s relaxed.
“Yeah, it’s a wonderful smell.”
“Libby is just so gorgeous isn’t she? Jon says she’s hardly ever cried since they brought her home and that she sleeps straight through the night as well.”
“Mmm? Really?” Pippa mumbles, her eyes closed.
“Wouldn’t you like one?” I slip the question in knowing she’s relaxed enough to answer me truthfully and wondering why I haven’t done this before. Pippa has a tendency to hide her feelings until she’s fully relaxed or drunk, then you can get them from her easily.
“Oh yeah, I’d love that.” she murmurs, then stills. Her eyes fly open and she twists to look at me.
“Son of a bitch!” she hisses at me, “I can’t believe you’ve asked me that.”
The smile vanishes from my face as I look at her, her face is completely pale, those huge tiger eyes staring at me in a blind panic over what she’s just let slip.
She gets up from her chair and walks out the back into the garden. When I catch up with her I find she’s managed to grab a cigarette from someone, Tico probably, and is puffing away furiously. She glares at me as I approach.
“Why do you always have to bring it up? Why can’t you just let it be?” she asks, dropping ash onto the grass.
“You know why babe.” I say, determined to stand my ground and not give in.
“Don’t Richie, just don’t. Why can’t you just be happy with me?” she asks over her shoulder as she walks off, away from me.
I am happy with you I wanna shout out after her but no words come out. I am happy with her, I just feel that having a child would cement what we have. But that ain’t gonna happen all the time she has that in her head
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“What ya doing babe?” I asked her as she pulled away from me to rummage around in the bedside cabinet.
“Condom.” was her muffled reply, her backside wiggling almost in my face. I stretched out a finger and lazily rubbed her clit, causing her to stiffen and moan.
“That can wait” I said as I pulled her back to me and thrust my fingers inside her. Pippa moaned loudly and began to buck under my touch as I gently rubbed her clit and finger fucked her. I could feel her orgasm coming and knew I had to have her there and then.
I began to push my way into her, she was so totally lost in her orgasm that she didn’t really register what was happening until I was fully sheathed inside her. Oh god it felt so good, her hot flesh contracting around mine. I almost came right then. Slowly I pulled out and then slammed back into her, causing her to throw her head back, her eyes fluttering, her hair spread across the pillow. God she was so tight and hot I knew it wasn’t going to be long for me. I could feel the heat as my balls contracted and it began to spiral upwards. Grunting I thrust in and out, a few more strokes. The white heat was now becoming unbearable and I groaned and called her name as it sped upwards and out into her.
I flopped down onto the bed besides her and drew her in for a cuddle. She opened her eyes and stared aghast at me.
“Richie! Oh my god, you didn’t use…” the look of panic across her face started to scare me.
“What?” I asked, then belatedly remembered the condom I hadn’t used, “Oh.”
“Oh? Is that all you’ve got to say? Oh?” she stared at me, getting angry.
“It’s no biggie is it? I mean we are together, we have a committed relationship. Maybe a child would be a good thing?” I said, reaching out for a breast to play with.
She sat up so suddenly my hand flew back off her and smacked me in the face. At any other time it would’ve been comical but one look at her face told me this was not one of those times.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Since when has having a child been a good thing for us? Have I ever said I wanted a child? No! In fact I’ve told you all along I don’t want children.” she all but spat at me.
“Yeah you have but you’ve never said why.” I said quietly.
“Because.”
I just stared at her.
“Pip, tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. Come on we’ve been together for 2 months, can’t you trust me?”
She sighed and leant back against the headboard.
“This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a man.” she began in a small voice, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I’ve never been able to bond with anyone, so why I’ve bonded with you is a mystery to me,” she laughed mirthlessly.
I sat up and looked at her, not saying a word, as a single tear ran down her cheek. I knew it was costing her a lot to be this open and all I could do was support her.
“When I was born my mum suffered from post partum depression and didn’t want to be anywhere near me. She was cold and distant towards me, but no one knew why. My Nan looked after me for the first six months of my life until she died, then my mum had to take over but her heart wasn’t really in it. When my brother came along she had a different doctor who put her on medication and she took to him straight away. All my childhood all I ever wanted was for my mum to hug me like she hugged my brother but she rarely did. When I met Jilly it was like I had a new family as she and her parents were so demonstrative with each other and included me in that. From about the age of 8 when Jilly moved in next door, I spent most of my time with her and her family. At one point I remember asking her mum if she would adopt me and she thought it was so funny she told my mum who just became more cold towards me and told me she wished I‘d never been born, that I was a bad one. I had to be otherwise she‘d feel more for me than she did. So now you know the reason why.” she finished and looked down at her lap.
“Oh honey,” I said, pulling her into a hug, “That’s awful. Do you think you’d be like that? Is that the real reason you don’t want children?” I asked, feeling her nodding against my shoulder,
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. You’re not to blame for that, nor should you think you’d be the same.” I tilted her head up to look into her eyes, “Listen to me darlin’, I am never going to leave you, ok? I am here for you and I love you.”
She burst into tears and sobbed on my shoulder. I wanted to find her mum and kill her for what she’d done to her daughter.
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I give her 20 minutes to find a spot and settle down then I go looking for her. I find her in her favourite spot. Jilly’d had a bench installed in a secluded part of the garden, mainly to give Jon some peace and quiet away from the family but Pippa loved it too. It was by a small fish pond.
“Hey.” I say softly as I sit next to her.
“Hey.” she replies, staring at the koi carp in the pond.
“I’m sorry babe, I just get overwhelmed with happiness for Jon and I guess I want some for myself.”
“But you’ve got Ava.” she says.
“Yeah, but she’s not yours.”
“I…I…I loved holding Libby, I just get so scared that if she was mine I’d feel nothing for her and she’d end up all fucked up like me.”
“You are nothing like your mum. You are a kind, crazy, wild, loving woman who I love with all my heart, and there’s nothing wrong with being fucked up at times. The trouble comes when you know what’s wrong but you don’t fix it.” I say, holding her close to me, feeling for the first time the vulnerability under the brash surface, “besides do you really think I’d let you get away with not loving our child? I’d whomp yo ass woman!” I say, smiling at her.
“Oh Richie I love you so much.” she says, leaning back on me, “So who do you think they’d take after? Me or you?” she says, stretching her legs out.
I just smile and hug her.
Wow, I wish I had a camera. Now that is a definite Kodak moment. To see my woman, the professional child hater, holding and, hang on, is that? Yes, cooing over a baby is a revelation. It’s one of the things we argue about, in fact the only thing we ever argue about. I don’t get how a woman can have such a major dislike for children. I mean isn’t that what women are here for? To be maternal and all that? Now before you start on me that’s not what I mean at all. I know women are just as important as men but they are the ones that conceive and carry then give birth to children, it’s part of their genetic make up so to meet one who professes to hate them is a bit weird, that’s all. I just know I’m gonna get hate mail for this.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her. I wonder if I can closer and capture her on my phone with Libby in her arms. I just don’t get it man, she looks so natural holding Libby and playing with her fingers and toes, her long red curls draping over her shoulders and being played with by Libby. As I try to make my way over to her, quietly, I can see Jon watching her as well. He’s such a protective person these days. I mean he’s always been there for us all but ever since he met Jilly, it’s like he wants to wrap her and their child up in cotton wool and protect them from the world. He looks every inch the proud papa. Stephanie and Jesse are in the kitchen with Ava, helping Jilly get the food ready for all us starving people. Jake and Romeo are somewhere outside with playing football with Colt, David’s kid.
Shit man, how did I get here? One minute I’m Mr Rock Star and the next I’m surrounded by kids and sharing the spotlight for the poster band for Family Life. It’s fucking crazy I tell you. I mean all of us have been married and divorced at least once and we’ve all got kids now. We’re almost suburban. Almost….
I am so near to Pip that I can smell her perfume, L’Ombre dans l’eau, before you ask, by diptyque. It’s French, in case you were wondering and has a dry smoky scent that drives me wild. She knows it does. She’s tormenting me at the moment cause I asked her again this morning about having a child together. I won’t repeat what she said only to say I’m glad Ava wasn’t around! I’ve got her framed in my phone. She’s got hold of Libby’s foot and is making her laugh by gently pulling her little toes.
Click! The camera was a bit louder than I realised and now she’s mad with me for taking it but she looked so fucking adorable with Libby that I wanted to capture it. Ha! Getting my own back as she knows she can’t move while Libby’s on her lap. Jon’s in the kitchen, supposedly helping Jilly, but we all know he’s gone in there to kiss her.
“Hey babe.” I say.
“Hey.” she answers, not looking at me but seemingly captivated by this tiny baby, “Isn’t she adorable Rich?”
Eh? Is this Pippa speaking? My Pip? Ok, who are you and what have you done with Pippa?
“Yeah, she is. Be interesting to see who she takes after. Jon’s other kids all share his features.” I say, nonchalantly, though my heart is bursting with love for this woman.
I sit on the edge of the chair she’s sat in and reach over to stroke Libby’s soft baby skin, smelling that universal baby smell of milk and talcum powder.
I breath it in deeply, closing my eyes, a big smile on my face. God I love that smell. That gorgeous clean baby smell that just makes you want to hold on to them and never let them go. It seems Pip isn’t as unaffected as she’d like as she breathes in deeply as well and then sighs.
Libby really is a gorgeous baby, she had a dusting of light brown/blonde hair and the most amazing electric blue eyes that just seem to stare right into your soul. I remember being at the hospital when she was born, as Jon had been in the studio when Jilly went into labour and had been in no fit state to drive, and I was taken right back to when Ava was born. To see another life come from the one you love is the most humbling experience I’ve ever had and I remember just sitting for hours staring at her, unable to take my eyes off her. She was my child. Mine.
I catch Pippa looking at me with a strange expression on her face, almost wistful, and I lean over to drop a kiss on the top of her curls.
I know she has a problem bonding with people, she told me about quite early on in our relationship but I wish she would go and see someone about it and move past it. Whatever happened, happened in the past and can’t be changed. All she can do is change her reaction to it.
Jon comes over.
“Hey Rich, Pip. Can I take her? Jilly needs to feed her.”
“Yeah sure Jon.” Pippa says as she scoops her up to hand her over to her proud daddy.
“She been ok?”
“Oh she’s been fine, we’ve been playing pull the toes. It’s a new game but I’m sure it’ll catch on.” Pippa smiles up at him as he takes his precious cargo and walks off to where Jilly’s waiting.
Pippa leans back in her chair and stretches her neck.
“You got knots babe?” I ask, gently pressing down on her shoulders.
The wince followed by a groan tell me I’m correct. Still she has spent the better part of an hour all hunched up, playing with Libby, so I’m not really surprised.
“Mmm” she whispers as I press harder.
She turns away from me, holding her hair out of the way and presenting me with her back. I put both hands on her shoulder and begin the massage. I dig deep knowing she loves it, feeling the skin and muscle become more pliant under my touch.
“I love the smell of babies. Don’t you?” I ask, knowing she’s relaxed.
“Yeah, it’s a wonderful smell.”
“Libby is just so gorgeous isn’t she? Jon says she’s hardly ever cried since they brought her home and that she sleeps straight through the night as well.”
“Mmm? Really?” Pippa mumbles, her eyes closed.
“Wouldn’t you like one?” I slip the question in knowing she’s relaxed enough to answer me truthfully and wondering why I haven’t done this before. Pippa has a tendency to hide her feelings until she’s fully relaxed or drunk, then you can get them from her easily.
“Oh yeah, I’d love that.” she murmurs, then stills. Her eyes fly open and she twists to look at me.
“Son of a bitch!” she hisses at me, “I can’t believe you’ve asked me that.”
The smile vanishes from my face as I look at her, her face is completely pale, those huge tiger eyes staring at me in a blind panic over what she’s just let slip.
She gets up from her chair and walks out the back into the garden. When I catch up with her I find she’s managed to grab a cigarette from someone, Tico probably, and is puffing away furiously. She glares at me as I approach.
“Why do you always have to bring it up? Why can’t you just let it be?” she asks, dropping ash onto the grass.
“You know why babe.” I say, determined to stand my ground and not give in.
“Don’t Richie, just don’t. Why can’t you just be happy with me?” she asks over her shoulder as she walks off, away from me.
I am happy with you I wanna shout out after her but no words come out. I am happy with her, I just feel that having a child would cement what we have. But that ain’t gonna happen all the time she has that in her head
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“What ya doing babe?” I asked her as she pulled away from me to rummage around in the bedside cabinet.
“Condom.” was her muffled reply, her backside wiggling almost in my face. I stretched out a finger and lazily rubbed her clit, causing her to stiffen and moan.
“That can wait” I said as I pulled her back to me and thrust my fingers inside her. Pippa moaned loudly and began to buck under my touch as I gently rubbed her clit and finger fucked her. I could feel her orgasm coming and knew I had to have her there and then.
I began to push my way into her, she was so totally lost in her orgasm that she didn’t really register what was happening until I was fully sheathed inside her. Oh god it felt so good, her hot flesh contracting around mine. I almost came right then. Slowly I pulled out and then slammed back into her, causing her to throw her head back, her eyes fluttering, her hair spread across the pillow. God she was so tight and hot I knew it wasn’t going to be long for me. I could feel the heat as my balls contracted and it began to spiral upwards. Grunting I thrust in and out, a few more strokes. The white heat was now becoming unbearable and I groaned and called her name as it sped upwards and out into her.
I flopped down onto the bed besides her and drew her in for a cuddle. She opened her eyes and stared aghast at me.
“Richie! Oh my god, you didn’t use…” the look of panic across her face started to scare me.
“What?” I asked, then belatedly remembered the condom I hadn’t used, “Oh.”
“Oh? Is that all you’ve got to say? Oh?” she stared at me, getting angry.
“It’s no biggie is it? I mean we are together, we have a committed relationship. Maybe a child would be a good thing?” I said, reaching out for a breast to play with.
She sat up so suddenly my hand flew back off her and smacked me in the face. At any other time it would’ve been comical but one look at her face told me this was not one of those times.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Since when has having a child been a good thing for us? Have I ever said I wanted a child? No! In fact I’ve told you all along I don’t want children.” she all but spat at me.
“Yeah you have but you’ve never said why.” I said quietly.
“Because.”
I just stared at her.
“Pip, tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. Come on we’ve been together for 2 months, can’t you trust me?”
She sighed and leant back against the headboard.
“This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a man.” she began in a small voice, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I’ve never been able to bond with anyone, so why I’ve bonded with you is a mystery to me,” she laughed mirthlessly.
I sat up and looked at her, not saying a word, as a single tear ran down her cheek. I knew it was costing her a lot to be this open and all I could do was support her.
“When I was born my mum suffered from post partum depression and didn’t want to be anywhere near me. She was cold and distant towards me, but no one knew why. My Nan looked after me for the first six months of my life until she died, then my mum had to take over but her heart wasn’t really in it. When my brother came along she had a different doctor who put her on medication and she took to him straight away. All my childhood all I ever wanted was for my mum to hug me like she hugged my brother but she rarely did. When I met Jilly it was like I had a new family as she and her parents were so demonstrative with each other and included me in that. From about the age of 8 when Jilly moved in next door, I spent most of my time with her and her family. At one point I remember asking her mum if she would adopt me and she thought it was so funny she told my mum who just became more cold towards me and told me she wished I‘d never been born, that I was a bad one. I had to be otherwise she‘d feel more for me than she did. So now you know the reason why.” she finished and looked down at her lap.
“Oh honey,” I said, pulling her into a hug, “That’s awful. Do you think you’d be like that? Is that the real reason you don’t want children?” I asked, feeling her nodding against my shoulder,
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. You’re not to blame for that, nor should you think you’d be the same.” I tilted her head up to look into her eyes, “Listen to me darlin’, I am never going to leave you, ok? I am here for you and I love you.”
She burst into tears and sobbed on my shoulder. I wanted to find her mum and kill her for what she’d done to her daughter.
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I give her 20 minutes to find a spot and settle down then I go looking for her. I find her in her favourite spot. Jilly’d had a bench installed in a secluded part of the garden, mainly to give Jon some peace and quiet away from the family but Pippa loved it too. It was by a small fish pond.
“Hey.” I say softly as I sit next to her.
“Hey.” she replies, staring at the koi carp in the pond.
“I’m sorry babe, I just get overwhelmed with happiness for Jon and I guess I want some for myself.”
“But you’ve got Ava.” she says.
“Yeah, but she’s not yours.”
“I…I…I loved holding Libby, I just get so scared that if she was mine I’d feel nothing for her and she’d end up all fucked up like me.”
“You are nothing like your mum. You are a kind, crazy, wild, loving woman who I love with all my heart, and there’s nothing wrong with being fucked up at times. The trouble comes when you know what’s wrong but you don’t fix it.” I say, holding her close to me, feeling for the first time the vulnerability under the brash surface, “besides do you really think I’d let you get away with not loving our child? I’d whomp yo ass woman!” I say, smiling at her.
“Oh Richie I love you so much.” she says, leaning back on me, “So who do you think they’d take after? Me or you?” she says, stretching her legs out.
I just smile and hug her.
Part Three - Pippa's story
I sit here in the sunshine and watch Jilly trying to get comfortable in her large overstuffed sun lounger. I have to hide my smirk as she shuffles around trying to get the pillow into the right position. It can’t be that comfortable being that pregnant or that huge in this heat. Thank god it’s not me. Rich and Jon are playing football with the boys and Stephanie is feigning sleep on her lounger next to me, with her earplugs in and her ipod blasting some god awful racket straight into her teenaged brain. Ava is lying next to her, also doing the same. After a rocky start she has come to accept me as a permanent fixture in her dad’s life and we have a truce of sorts which translates as I ignore her most of the time and she does the same to me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike her as a person, I just don’t do children. That came out wrong. I don’t get along with children, of any age. I don’t know why, I just don’t. Unless they can hold a decent conversation and can legally have a beer I’m just not that into them. I sound awful don’t I?
Jilly is just so huge I can’t help but stare at her. I can’t believe she’s only six months pregnant,. She looks ready to burst and if I pricked her with a pin she’d probably explode all over the place. Not that I would prick her with a pin, plus I’d never get within 2 feet of her with a sharp object. Jon has eyes in the back of his head when it comes to Jilly and Richie has never seen him so protective over a partner before. According to him Dot was the one who did the protecting in Jon’s earlier marriage. You’re probably wondering why I’m not helping her get comfortable. I did try but she shushed me away and told me she wasn’t a cripple yet. Stephanie brought her out a pillow and made cooing noises about her which were just so alien to me I nearly spilled my vodka down my chin, Jilly has always been the kind of person that makes everyone want to take care of her whilst I‘ve always been treated as if I could take care of myself. It‘s not my fault that she‘s petite with a voluptuous Mother Earth type figure and personality and I‘m tall and lean with a pair of boobs stuck on at the top, or that she‘s got naturally long blonde hair that shines with health and vitality and I‘m stuck with red curls. Although my hair is my saving grace. It’s not the faded orange that we call Ginger with a hard G nor is it the dark red of Julia Roberts. It’s a bright burnished Titian, pure red with highlights. If you’re not sure what colour titian is go google it. Nancy Drew had the same hair colour. My eyes are pretty cool too, they’re hazel but with slithers of gold and cocoa in them, giving them an almost tigerish look
You’re probably also wondering why in hell we’re friends. We’ve been friends since the first year of primary school back in the early 80‘s, which carried onto secondary school in the 90’s and beyond. We were the only two in our secondary school year that were still into the big hair bands of the 80’s which suited us fine. Whilst everyone else was into dance, hip hop, trance and those god awful raves, Jilly and I would while away the hours listening to Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, discussing the finer merits of Jon and Richie and whether Steven Tyler was handsomely ugly or just plain ugly.
Oh Richie, I have had a crush on him since I was 9 and first saw the video for Living on a Prayer. There was just something about his handsome face with that cloud of dark hair, chocolate eyes and cheeky smile that made my heart go boom. I remember my mum asking me when I was about 10 what it was that I wanted to do with my life and I told her I was going to marry Richie Sambora.
Of course she thought that was a boy a school but I knew better. Thankfully Jilly was more into Jon so there was no clash. Oh I remember when he married Dot. Jilly was a mess, we were only 12 but her whole life crumbled and I was there for her. She was there for me when Richie married Blondie. Oh god I remember that day so well. I got to school, late as usual, in my trade mark black. I think at that point the school had given up trying to make me wear the school sweater and just left me to it. I waltzed into class for registration and one of the various blondes that hung around popped her head up and made a remark about how I was in mourning cause Richie had married Heather in Paris. How I made it through that day I do not know.
So you could see how excited I was when Jilly told me she’d won that competition and that she wanted me to come with her. I was over the moon! I was leaping around my flat for about 2 days before it really sank in that I might finally be on my way to meet Richie. I knew, or rather prayed and hoped like mad, that he would be there.
I remember walking into the restaurant and seeing him sat at the table. My legs turned to jelly, I swear, and how I got to the table without falling over I will never know. Oh god he was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. Funny, smart, caring, sexy as all out and did I mention funny? He had me in hysterics from the get go, which was good really as Jilly was totally captivated with her blonde god.
Normally I am not the kind of person to run off with someone about 30 minutes after meeting him but, fuck me, it was Richie Sambora. You would too, don’t lie.
We left the two dreamers, who didn’t even notice we’d gone and rushed up to his hotel room.
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He pushed me up against the door, slamming it shut in the process. I was so thankful I’d worn a short black dress instead of my usual black trousers when I felt his hand snake under the skirt and brush against the top of my thigh. He kissed me hard, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to taste me and let me taste him back. I moaned, deep in my throat, I know I did as his fingers gripped my thigh tight for a moment and I could feel him twitching through his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach.
I’m 5ft 9in but with my heels on I was not that much shorter than him.
He thrust his fingers under the elastic of my knickers and straight into my pussy. He found my clit and pinched it, not too hard but hard enough to make me squeal and for moisture to come flooding out of me, lubricating his fingers, ready for him to slip them into me. Which he did, with a passion.
I have never been finger fucked so hard nor so good before. My orgasm hit me so quickly that it was partly over before I’d had time to register it.
He pulled back slightly from me, pulling his fingers out of me and, looking me straight in the eye, he proceeded to lick every digit clean. His pupils had dilated so much his eyes were almost black and I’m pretty sure mine had done the same. I had no use for words, which was good as I’m pretty sure none would’ve emerged had I tried.
I could feel my internal muscle walls contracting and fluttering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and could only stand (just) and stare at him as he led me over to the bed. He pushed me down onto the soft coverlet and, placing his hands at the top of my thighs, scratched lightly down my legs. I just moaned and closed my eyes as a plethora of pleasurable feelings flooded through me. Talk about sensory overload. My every nerve ending was on fire.
He began to lightly lick the scratch marks he’d made, I thought I was about to die and go straight to hell as surely heaven would never allow this much pleasure to be experienced by one person. The pleasure I was feeling was nothing compared to what I felt when his mouth closed around my clit and sucked softly. I jumped so high he had to hold me down on the bed. He slipped his finger inside me and together with his tongue brought me to another amazing orgasm.
I reached for him and pulled him up so that he was level with me.
“You like that babe?” he asked, his voice husky, mouth smeared with my juices.
I could only nod as speech really had deserted me at this point, and try to mime what I needed. The git just smirked at me.
“What was that babe?” he smiled at my hand play.
“You wanna play charades?” he asked, slowly stroking my engorged clit.
I think at this point my eyes were bulging from their sockets and all the air in my lungs had been replaced with treacle.
“F…f….fuck..me!”
“Is that a statement or a request?” he asked with a devilish grin.
I could only stare at him, I didn’t even have the energy to grab him and point. He must’ve taken pity on me as he smiled and thrust himself inside me in one swift movement.
Oh my god! To be stretched and filled that much by just one person ought to be outlawed! It was amazing, glorious, fantastic, [insert superlative]. I felt like I was on fire and drowning at the same time. He began to move against me, thrusting first deeply then shallower until I was just a bundle of nerve endings.
I looked up into his face and smiled. His hair had flopped forward over his forehead and he looked absolutely gorgeous and as sexy as hell. I reached up and ran my fingers lightly down his face, grazing his lips with my fingertips. He groaned and sped up. I moved my head up slightly capturing those biteable lips in a kiss and felt him thrusting into me harder.
I locked my legs around his back, forcing him deeper into me. I sucked on his tongue, making little mewing sounds in the back of my throat as I felt the pleasure beginning to tingle again, moving up through my toes until it burst through again, taking me along with it. Richie groaned as he exploded within me.
We lay there together on this huge bed and grinned at each other.
“Damn woman, you are gonna kill me one of these days.”
“Does that mean I’ll get more opportunities do kill you then? I asked, smiling at him, my curls in a state of disarray.
“We’ll see.” he said, his eyes twinkling, a small smile on his face.
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That was almost a year ago and we’re still together. The thing that happened to Jilly brought us closer than I could ever imagine and I moved in with him permanently soon after that. I had lived with him prior to that but we have such a tempestuous relationship that sometimes I just fled when it got too much. Not now. I will never leave him now, even when he starts up the old argument of having another child. Jilly just smiles at this and says I’ll change my mind. I don’t know, maybe I will, maybe I won’t.
Richie waves at me and I wave back, blowing him a kiss. Ava sees this and snorts in derision. I’m tempted to tell her what my lips were doing to her daddy’s cock this morning but even I’m not that much of a bitch.
Maybe Jilly’s right, maybe I ought to spend more time getting to know Ava.
I close my eyes and let the hot sunshine bake me. I’ll sleep on it.
Jilly is just so huge I can’t help but stare at her. I can’t believe she’s only six months pregnant,. She looks ready to burst and if I pricked her with a pin she’d probably explode all over the place. Not that I would prick her with a pin, plus I’d never get within 2 feet of her with a sharp object. Jon has eyes in the back of his head when it comes to Jilly and Richie has never seen him so protective over a partner before. According to him Dot was the one who did the protecting in Jon’s earlier marriage. You’re probably wondering why I’m not helping her get comfortable. I did try but she shushed me away and told me she wasn’t a cripple yet. Stephanie brought her out a pillow and made cooing noises about her which were just so alien to me I nearly spilled my vodka down my chin, Jilly has always been the kind of person that makes everyone want to take care of her whilst I‘ve always been treated as if I could take care of myself. It‘s not my fault that she‘s petite with a voluptuous Mother Earth type figure and personality and I‘m tall and lean with a pair of boobs stuck on at the top, or that she‘s got naturally long blonde hair that shines with health and vitality and I‘m stuck with red curls. Although my hair is my saving grace. It’s not the faded orange that we call Ginger with a hard G nor is it the dark red of Julia Roberts. It’s a bright burnished Titian, pure red with highlights. If you’re not sure what colour titian is go google it. Nancy Drew had the same hair colour. My eyes are pretty cool too, they’re hazel but with slithers of gold and cocoa in them, giving them an almost tigerish look
You’re probably also wondering why in hell we’re friends. We’ve been friends since the first year of primary school back in the early 80‘s, which carried onto secondary school in the 90’s and beyond. We were the only two in our secondary school year that were still into the big hair bands of the 80’s which suited us fine. Whilst everyone else was into dance, hip hop, trance and those god awful raves, Jilly and I would while away the hours listening to Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, discussing the finer merits of Jon and Richie and whether Steven Tyler was handsomely ugly or just plain ugly.
Oh Richie, I have had a crush on him since I was 9 and first saw the video for Living on a Prayer. There was just something about his handsome face with that cloud of dark hair, chocolate eyes and cheeky smile that made my heart go boom. I remember my mum asking me when I was about 10 what it was that I wanted to do with my life and I told her I was going to marry Richie Sambora.
Of course she thought that was a boy a school but I knew better. Thankfully Jilly was more into Jon so there was no clash. Oh I remember when he married Dot. Jilly was a mess, we were only 12 but her whole life crumbled and I was there for her. She was there for me when Richie married Blondie. Oh god I remember that day so well. I got to school, late as usual, in my trade mark black. I think at that point the school had given up trying to make me wear the school sweater and just left me to it. I waltzed into class for registration and one of the various blondes that hung around popped her head up and made a remark about how I was in mourning cause Richie had married Heather in Paris. How I made it through that day I do not know.
So you could see how excited I was when Jilly told me she’d won that competition and that she wanted me to come with her. I was over the moon! I was leaping around my flat for about 2 days before it really sank in that I might finally be on my way to meet Richie. I knew, or rather prayed and hoped like mad, that he would be there.
I remember walking into the restaurant and seeing him sat at the table. My legs turned to jelly, I swear, and how I got to the table without falling over I will never know. Oh god he was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. Funny, smart, caring, sexy as all out and did I mention funny? He had me in hysterics from the get go, which was good really as Jilly was totally captivated with her blonde god.
Normally I am not the kind of person to run off with someone about 30 minutes after meeting him but, fuck me, it was Richie Sambora. You would too, don’t lie.
We left the two dreamers, who didn’t even notice we’d gone and rushed up to his hotel room.
--------------------------------------------------
He pushed me up against the door, slamming it shut in the process. I was so thankful I’d worn a short black dress instead of my usual black trousers when I felt his hand snake under the skirt and brush against the top of my thigh. He kissed me hard, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to taste me and let me taste him back. I moaned, deep in my throat, I know I did as his fingers gripped my thigh tight for a moment and I could feel him twitching through his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach.
I’m 5ft 9in but with my heels on I was not that much shorter than him.
He thrust his fingers under the elastic of my knickers and straight into my pussy. He found my clit and pinched it, not too hard but hard enough to make me squeal and for moisture to come flooding out of me, lubricating his fingers, ready for him to slip them into me. Which he did, with a passion.
I have never been finger fucked so hard nor so good before. My orgasm hit me so quickly that it was partly over before I’d had time to register it.
He pulled back slightly from me, pulling his fingers out of me and, looking me straight in the eye, he proceeded to lick every digit clean. His pupils had dilated so much his eyes were almost black and I’m pretty sure mine had done the same. I had no use for words, which was good as I’m pretty sure none would’ve emerged had I tried.
I could feel my internal muscle walls contracting and fluttering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and could only stand (just) and stare at him as he led me over to the bed. He pushed me down onto the soft coverlet and, placing his hands at the top of my thighs, scratched lightly down my legs. I just moaned and closed my eyes as a plethora of pleasurable feelings flooded through me. Talk about sensory overload. My every nerve ending was on fire.
He began to lightly lick the scratch marks he’d made, I thought I was about to die and go straight to hell as surely heaven would never allow this much pleasure to be experienced by one person. The pleasure I was feeling was nothing compared to what I felt when his mouth closed around my clit and sucked softly. I jumped so high he had to hold me down on the bed. He slipped his finger inside me and together with his tongue brought me to another amazing orgasm.
I reached for him and pulled him up so that he was level with me.
“You like that babe?” he asked, his voice husky, mouth smeared with my juices.
I could only nod as speech really had deserted me at this point, and try to mime what I needed. The git just smirked at me.
“What was that babe?” he smiled at my hand play.
“You wanna play charades?” he asked, slowly stroking my engorged clit.
I think at this point my eyes were bulging from their sockets and all the air in my lungs had been replaced with treacle.
“F…f….fuck..me!”
“Is that a statement or a request?” he asked with a devilish grin.
I could only stare at him, I didn’t even have the energy to grab him and point. He must’ve taken pity on me as he smiled and thrust himself inside me in one swift movement.
Oh my god! To be stretched and filled that much by just one person ought to be outlawed! It was amazing, glorious, fantastic, [insert superlative]. I felt like I was on fire and drowning at the same time. He began to move against me, thrusting first deeply then shallower until I was just a bundle of nerve endings.
I looked up into his face and smiled. His hair had flopped forward over his forehead and he looked absolutely gorgeous and as sexy as hell. I reached up and ran my fingers lightly down his face, grazing his lips with my fingertips. He groaned and sped up. I moved my head up slightly capturing those biteable lips in a kiss and felt him thrusting into me harder.
I locked my legs around his back, forcing him deeper into me. I sucked on his tongue, making little mewing sounds in the back of my throat as I felt the pleasure beginning to tingle again, moving up through my toes until it burst through again, taking me along with it. Richie groaned as he exploded within me.
We lay there together on this huge bed and grinned at each other.
“Damn woman, you are gonna kill me one of these days.”
“Does that mean I’ll get more opportunities do kill you then? I asked, smiling at him, my curls in a state of disarray.
“We’ll see.” he said, his eyes twinkling, a small smile on his face.
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That was almost a year ago and we’re still together. The thing that happened to Jilly brought us closer than I could ever imagine and I moved in with him permanently soon after that. I had lived with him prior to that but we have such a tempestuous relationship that sometimes I just fled when it got too much. Not now. I will never leave him now, even when he starts up the old argument of having another child. Jilly just smiles at this and says I’ll change my mind. I don’t know, maybe I will, maybe I won’t.
Richie waves at me and I wave back, blowing him a kiss. Ava sees this and snorts in derision. I’m tempted to tell her what my lips were doing to her daddy’s cock this morning but even I’m not that much of a bitch.
Maybe Jilly’s right, maybe I ought to spend more time getting to know Ava.
I close my eyes and let the hot sunshine bake me. I’ll sleep on it.
Saturday 21 February 2009
Part Two - Jon's story
Thank god she’s still sleeping.
I look down at my beautiful wife, the shock and pain of the past 24 hours still evident on her worry lined face that even sleep hasn’t erased. She’s so beautiful and she’s mine and I will, to my dying day, never let anyone hurt her. I really want to touch her, to stroke her hair and soothe away both her worries and mine but I know as soon as I do she’ll wake up and remember and the pain will begin again.
The air is still and calm in our bedroom, the dogs snoring lightly at the foot of the bed. Her hair shines pale blue in the moonlight that has filtered through a chink in the curtains.
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I knew as soon as I met her that she was the one, it was just a pity I had to get her really drunk in order to marry her but then we had only known each other for about seven hours at that point. It took a lot of greasing palms and one hell of a lot of paperwork but we were married again exactly one month after the first time and everyone turned up. Hell I always seem to get married in little chapels off the main strip in Vegas, it was refreshing to say our vows to each other in front of our friends and family.
Pippa was Jilly’s maid of honour and Richie was my best man, not only cause they’re our closest friends and family but hell, they’re dating each other and it seemed the right thing to do. Especially after Richie threatened to bust my ass if anyone but him got to dance with Pip. They make a great couple, tempestuous and fiery but great together. I’m so glad he’s finally found someone to be happy with.
It was a great day but still feels like a poor substitute for that moment in time when you know you’re going to be with this person, your soul mate, for the rest of your life. Just one moment, one clarity of thought and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You’re where you’re supposed to be with the person you’re supposed to be with , doing what you’re supposed to be doing and everything else pales in comparison.
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I love watching her sleep. Ya know I am so not a morning person but I’ve woken up every morning since we met just to watch her sleep. It’s peaceful and I can spend my time just drinking her in. My note books that stay by the bed at all times are just full of lyrics about her, most will never see the light of day, even Richie thinks they’re too sappy and he’s the biggest sap going!, but a few may be worked into songs. She’s the most wonderful person I have ever met, she gives me so much and takes so little. She stands behind me ready to catch me if I fall and to be caught in her arms I would risk falling now and again.
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My friends thought I was mad to have married someone I’d just met, especially with all the hassle with immigration that we’d have to go through but I didn’t care.
I remember when she came walking into the restaurant, Richie nudged me and said something about a tall redhead but I only had eyes for the short blonde next to her. We’d gotten to the restaurant a little early when Jilly first walked into my life and lodged in my heart. Objectively, she’s not conventionally beautiful, her nose has a bump on it that detracts from a flawless side profile and when she smiles her mouth opens a little too wide - after working in the entertainment business for 20 odd years I notice these things. It’s sad but true. When the unemployment rate for actors is about 90% at any one time we’re constantly on the look out for imperfections. Everyone does it. From the casting couch to the housewife buying National Enquirer. Everyone looks for the flaws and no one looks at the person. Jilly was the first person, I’m ashamed to say, in whom these imperfections didn’t matter. She’s extremely attractive, beautiful to me, and such a warm and loving person that everyone who’s met her has fallen for her: my band family, the crew, my parents, even my children and they’re the fussiest people I know. Dot’s still reserved but then hell if she wasn’t we’d probably still be married.
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God I wish she’d wake up, so I can hold her and touch her and tell her how much I love her before I show her how much I love her. The past 2 days have been an absolute nightmare for me, god knows what they were like for her.
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My kids chose to stay with their mom after the divorce so it really didn’t matter where Jilly and I moved to. Pip had moved in with Richie, then moved out then back in again, in LA so we decided to spend some time in California before deciding where to put down roots and when she told me she’d seen him I didn’t believe her. We’d only been married for 2 months and I guess I thought it was her guilt over dumping him on the phone that was making her see him everywhere. Even when the phone calls started I still didn’t believe it was him. You know those nuisance calls you get when you pick the phone up and have to wait to be connected to a sales person who is trying to sell you some long distance call saver package from AT & T or Bell.
I didn’t take any notice at first, mainly cause I was in the studio during the day with Rich and the guys and was rarely home before 10pm most nights. I know it sounds like I’ve been leaving my new bride alone but Pippa was over most days. I told Jilly to leave the ansaphone on and if I needed to call her I’d call her mobile. This seemed to do the trick until one night I was home early, as Richie had promised to be home early for Pippa or he was gonna be divorced before he was even married I think were her exact words. Anyway we got 5 calls in a row, just silence and then the faint disconnect sound. I called the police but even as I was explaining the situation it sounded silly. A few random sightings of someone who may have been him plus a few nuisance calls that may or may not have been the telephone calls. The police were sympathetic but explained that as I had no real proof that it was this guy that there was nothing they could do, except sent a car round our area regularly.
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Jilly shifts in her sleep, the quilt has slipped sideways, her perfect breasts exposed to the cool night air. Sighing I replace the quilt to keep her warm and she murmurs and smiles, still fast asleep. I know I’ve sung about it but I really would die for this woman, though, hopefully, I’ll never have to.
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We changed the phone number and for a while things got better. She wouldn’t jump every time the phone rang and she had her old sparkle back.
Then she started to see him everywhere. Jilly isn’t used to being in the Jovi Family and is more used to going shopping by herself instead of with someone. I tried to get her to take Pippa but it seems that Pip and Rich have another thing in common, both hate waking up before midday, so Jilly would quite often go by herself. As I was usually in the recording studio by 9.30 I didn’t know this. She would be out food shopping, look over at the queue and see him staring at her then when she’d look back there’d be no-one there. I didn’t really know what he looked like as all she had when she’d first come over was a small snapshot in her wallet, I mean her purse. It’s so silly, her wallet is her purse and her purse is her bag. God, the language barrier of those who speak English. There was one time when she asked me whether she should wear pants under her trousers and I just stared at her dumbfounded, wondering how in the name of all things holy she was going to be able to get two pairs of trousers on, then I realised she meant panties. Well in the end she didn’t even get to put her panties on before we had to shower…again.
The phone calls started again when I went into the studio properly with the whole band to start laying down tracks, and had to leave early in the morning and rarely got home before midnight. Some nights not at all. She was scared I know but short of having her in the studio, which would’ve distracted me to no end, there was no way around it, plus we lived in a gated house so she should’ve been safe. A week after I started laying down tracks it seemed that she must have been mistaken as the calls and sightings just stopped. I know the guys were relieved as a few times we’d be in the middle of something crucial and my mobile would go off. After this I started putting it on silent, I know this upset Jilly but I thought she was just being silly, alone in the huge house by herself. I thought she was jumping at shadows.
Until I got that call.
My phone rang in the middle of Richie laying down some guitar tracks and Tico went to grab it. I got there first and went to turn it off. I stopped as I saw who it was from.
“Jon!! Come home, Greg’s outside and he’s trying to get in. Oh Jon I’m so scared, please!” I could hear the terror in her voice.
“Hey honey calm down, what do you mean he’s outside?” I asked, worried.
“I opened the gates for the postman but it was him. I didn’t realise until I opened the front door, I managed to shut it but he’s outside.” her voice quavered with unshed tears.
“Have you called the cops?” I asked, knowing she hadn’t.
“No I wanted to speak to you.”
“Jilly, listen, get off the phone and then call 911, I’m leaving now. Ok?”
The sound of glass breaking. It will haunt me forever. Then Jilly was screaming down the phone before a dull thud then the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver.
I stood, staring blindly at the dial tone coming from the phone, utterly paralysed with fear. Richie and the guys just looked at me. As quickly as it had come over me it vanished and I raced out of the studio, leaving the guys staring after me. The studio I had chosen to work in was only 10 minutes by car from our house but that day it seemed to take forever. I dialled 911 as I sprinted towards my car, praying no one would see me and try to hold me up. The last thing I needed was any of the paparazzi to get wind of this and follow me.
Finally I reached my car and gunned it into action leaving trailing marks as I screeched out of the car park. All I could think of was Jilly. If he hurt her I would kill him.
The police were already there when I got home, surrounding our once safe home. As I pulled up I noticed a SWAT team which could mean only one thing. Greg had a gun. My heart stopped. I know it did, I was there.
Somehow I managed to find the man in charge and explained who I was. Apparently the real postman had turned up and hearing screaming, had called the cops before I had. All I could do was stand behind the barrier, outside our gates and feel useless. I had been in control of my life since I was about 18 years old and to find I could do nothing when the life of the one person I loved most hung in the balance was almost too much. My Jilly, my love, was trapped inside our house with her ex, who, by al intents, was going to kill them both and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.
Richie had, at this point, turned up with Pippa and they two stood beside me as the minutes ticked by. I know I was getting on the nerves of the man in charge but I couldn’t help myself, I was more nervous and full of energy than before any show. I felt impotent as I could only watch as someone called through a loud speaker, asking for Greg Edwards, for that was his full name, to put the gun down and hand himself in. The cops had been on the phone to their English counterparts who in turn had contacted Greg’s parents and had discovered that he had suffered from paranoia when he was a child and various other mental illnesses. The pain and violence had always been there, Jilly dumping him had broken the dam that kept them in and he was out for revenge.
Gunshot.
The most heartbreaking sound you could ever hear. I gripped Richie’s arm so tight I bruised him as the cops rushed our house, all thoughts of decorum long gone. I heard a howl of anguish and realised it was me. Tears poured down my face when I saw her being carried out, her arms wrapped tight around a policeman.
Run legs damn you.
I sped, stumbled and limped my way over to her and hugged her for all I was worth. We wept in each others arms, unable to let the other go, even as Greg’s body was carried past us on a mortuary stretcher. Single gunshot wound to the head was the cause of death.
He hadn’t wanted to harm her, not physically anyway. He’d wanted her to know what she had done to him before he’d killed himself in front of her. He was a very mentally sick man but I do feel for him. To be carrying that amount of pain around inside with no outlet for it is no way for anyone to live.
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Oh the dogs are awake.
Vinnie, the greyhound, stretches languorously on the end of our kingsized bed, with Eejit, the whippet, stretched out between his legs. Both are rescue dogs and adore both each other and Jilly. Me? They just tolerate me cause Jilly loves me but I think they prefer it when I’m not there. They’ll be wanting to be let out soon. Oh to hell with that, I ain’t leaving her till she’s awake.
Talk of the devil
“Morning wife.”
“Morning husband.” she whispers, mid yawn, “Have the dogs been walked yet?”
“No, I didn’t want to leave until you woke up.” I smile down at her, loving her even more than I did ten minutes ago.
“Well I’m awake now. Jon, I’m fine and I’m going to be fine, so there’s no need to worry. In fact all 3 of us will be fine.”
“All 3?..” confusion takes a hike as realisation puts the boot in.
“Morning Daddy.” she grins, reaching up for a kiss
I look down at my beautiful wife, the shock and pain of the past 24 hours still evident on her worry lined face that even sleep hasn’t erased. She’s so beautiful and she’s mine and I will, to my dying day, never let anyone hurt her. I really want to touch her, to stroke her hair and soothe away both her worries and mine but I know as soon as I do she’ll wake up and remember and the pain will begin again.
The air is still and calm in our bedroom, the dogs snoring lightly at the foot of the bed. Her hair shines pale blue in the moonlight that has filtered through a chink in the curtains.
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I knew as soon as I met her that she was the one, it was just a pity I had to get her really drunk in order to marry her but then we had only known each other for about seven hours at that point. It took a lot of greasing palms and one hell of a lot of paperwork but we were married again exactly one month after the first time and everyone turned up. Hell I always seem to get married in little chapels off the main strip in Vegas, it was refreshing to say our vows to each other in front of our friends and family.
Pippa was Jilly’s maid of honour and Richie was my best man, not only cause they’re our closest friends and family but hell, they’re dating each other and it seemed the right thing to do. Especially after Richie threatened to bust my ass if anyone but him got to dance with Pip. They make a great couple, tempestuous and fiery but great together. I’m so glad he’s finally found someone to be happy with.
It was a great day but still feels like a poor substitute for that moment in time when you know you’re going to be with this person, your soul mate, for the rest of your life. Just one moment, one clarity of thought and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You’re where you’re supposed to be with the person you’re supposed to be with , doing what you’re supposed to be doing and everything else pales in comparison.
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I love watching her sleep. Ya know I am so not a morning person but I’ve woken up every morning since we met just to watch her sleep. It’s peaceful and I can spend my time just drinking her in. My note books that stay by the bed at all times are just full of lyrics about her, most will never see the light of day, even Richie thinks they’re too sappy and he’s the biggest sap going!, but a few may be worked into songs. She’s the most wonderful person I have ever met, she gives me so much and takes so little. She stands behind me ready to catch me if I fall and to be caught in her arms I would risk falling now and again.
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My friends thought I was mad to have married someone I’d just met, especially with all the hassle with immigration that we’d have to go through but I didn’t care.
I remember when she came walking into the restaurant, Richie nudged me and said something about a tall redhead but I only had eyes for the short blonde next to her. We’d gotten to the restaurant a little early when Jilly first walked into my life and lodged in my heart. Objectively, she’s not conventionally beautiful, her nose has a bump on it that detracts from a flawless side profile and when she smiles her mouth opens a little too wide - after working in the entertainment business for 20 odd years I notice these things. It’s sad but true. When the unemployment rate for actors is about 90% at any one time we’re constantly on the look out for imperfections. Everyone does it. From the casting couch to the housewife buying National Enquirer. Everyone looks for the flaws and no one looks at the person. Jilly was the first person, I’m ashamed to say, in whom these imperfections didn’t matter. She’s extremely attractive, beautiful to me, and such a warm and loving person that everyone who’s met her has fallen for her: my band family, the crew, my parents, even my children and they’re the fussiest people I know. Dot’s still reserved but then hell if she wasn’t we’d probably still be married.
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God I wish she’d wake up, so I can hold her and touch her and tell her how much I love her before I show her how much I love her. The past 2 days have been an absolute nightmare for me, god knows what they were like for her.
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My kids chose to stay with their mom after the divorce so it really didn’t matter where Jilly and I moved to. Pip had moved in with Richie, then moved out then back in again, in LA so we decided to spend some time in California before deciding where to put down roots and when she told me she’d seen him I didn’t believe her. We’d only been married for 2 months and I guess I thought it was her guilt over dumping him on the phone that was making her see him everywhere. Even when the phone calls started I still didn’t believe it was him. You know those nuisance calls you get when you pick the phone up and have to wait to be connected to a sales person who is trying to sell you some long distance call saver package from AT & T or Bell.
I didn’t take any notice at first, mainly cause I was in the studio during the day with Rich and the guys and was rarely home before 10pm most nights. I know it sounds like I’ve been leaving my new bride alone but Pippa was over most days. I told Jilly to leave the ansaphone on and if I needed to call her I’d call her mobile. This seemed to do the trick until one night I was home early, as Richie had promised to be home early for Pippa or he was gonna be divorced before he was even married I think were her exact words. Anyway we got 5 calls in a row, just silence and then the faint disconnect sound. I called the police but even as I was explaining the situation it sounded silly. A few random sightings of someone who may have been him plus a few nuisance calls that may or may not have been the telephone calls. The police were sympathetic but explained that as I had no real proof that it was this guy that there was nothing they could do, except sent a car round our area regularly.
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Jilly shifts in her sleep, the quilt has slipped sideways, her perfect breasts exposed to the cool night air. Sighing I replace the quilt to keep her warm and she murmurs and smiles, still fast asleep. I know I’ve sung about it but I really would die for this woman, though, hopefully, I’ll never have to.
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We changed the phone number and for a while things got better. She wouldn’t jump every time the phone rang and she had her old sparkle back.
Then she started to see him everywhere. Jilly isn’t used to being in the Jovi Family and is more used to going shopping by herself instead of with someone. I tried to get her to take Pippa but it seems that Pip and Rich have another thing in common, both hate waking up before midday, so Jilly would quite often go by herself. As I was usually in the recording studio by 9.30 I didn’t know this. She would be out food shopping, look over at the queue and see him staring at her then when she’d look back there’d be no-one there. I didn’t really know what he looked like as all she had when she’d first come over was a small snapshot in her wallet, I mean her purse. It’s so silly, her wallet is her purse and her purse is her bag. God, the language barrier of those who speak English. There was one time when she asked me whether she should wear pants under her trousers and I just stared at her dumbfounded, wondering how in the name of all things holy she was going to be able to get two pairs of trousers on, then I realised she meant panties. Well in the end she didn’t even get to put her panties on before we had to shower…again.
The phone calls started again when I went into the studio properly with the whole band to start laying down tracks, and had to leave early in the morning and rarely got home before midnight. Some nights not at all. She was scared I know but short of having her in the studio, which would’ve distracted me to no end, there was no way around it, plus we lived in a gated house so she should’ve been safe. A week after I started laying down tracks it seemed that she must have been mistaken as the calls and sightings just stopped. I know the guys were relieved as a few times we’d be in the middle of something crucial and my mobile would go off. After this I started putting it on silent, I know this upset Jilly but I thought she was just being silly, alone in the huge house by herself. I thought she was jumping at shadows.
Until I got that call.
My phone rang in the middle of Richie laying down some guitar tracks and Tico went to grab it. I got there first and went to turn it off. I stopped as I saw who it was from.
“Jon!! Come home, Greg’s outside and he’s trying to get in. Oh Jon I’m so scared, please!” I could hear the terror in her voice.
“Hey honey calm down, what do you mean he’s outside?” I asked, worried.
“I opened the gates for the postman but it was him. I didn’t realise until I opened the front door, I managed to shut it but he’s outside.” her voice quavered with unshed tears.
“Have you called the cops?” I asked, knowing she hadn’t.
“No I wanted to speak to you.”
“Jilly, listen, get off the phone and then call 911, I’m leaving now. Ok?”
The sound of glass breaking. It will haunt me forever. Then Jilly was screaming down the phone before a dull thud then the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver.
I stood, staring blindly at the dial tone coming from the phone, utterly paralysed with fear. Richie and the guys just looked at me. As quickly as it had come over me it vanished and I raced out of the studio, leaving the guys staring after me. The studio I had chosen to work in was only 10 minutes by car from our house but that day it seemed to take forever. I dialled 911 as I sprinted towards my car, praying no one would see me and try to hold me up. The last thing I needed was any of the paparazzi to get wind of this and follow me.
Finally I reached my car and gunned it into action leaving trailing marks as I screeched out of the car park. All I could think of was Jilly. If he hurt her I would kill him.
The police were already there when I got home, surrounding our once safe home. As I pulled up I noticed a SWAT team which could mean only one thing. Greg had a gun. My heart stopped. I know it did, I was there.
Somehow I managed to find the man in charge and explained who I was. Apparently the real postman had turned up and hearing screaming, had called the cops before I had. All I could do was stand behind the barrier, outside our gates and feel useless. I had been in control of my life since I was about 18 years old and to find I could do nothing when the life of the one person I loved most hung in the balance was almost too much. My Jilly, my love, was trapped inside our house with her ex, who, by al intents, was going to kill them both and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.
Richie had, at this point, turned up with Pippa and they two stood beside me as the minutes ticked by. I know I was getting on the nerves of the man in charge but I couldn’t help myself, I was more nervous and full of energy than before any show. I felt impotent as I could only watch as someone called through a loud speaker, asking for Greg Edwards, for that was his full name, to put the gun down and hand himself in. The cops had been on the phone to their English counterparts who in turn had contacted Greg’s parents and had discovered that he had suffered from paranoia when he was a child and various other mental illnesses. The pain and violence had always been there, Jilly dumping him had broken the dam that kept them in and he was out for revenge.
Gunshot.
The most heartbreaking sound you could ever hear. I gripped Richie’s arm so tight I bruised him as the cops rushed our house, all thoughts of decorum long gone. I heard a howl of anguish and realised it was me. Tears poured down my face when I saw her being carried out, her arms wrapped tight around a policeman.
Run legs damn you.
I sped, stumbled and limped my way over to her and hugged her for all I was worth. We wept in each others arms, unable to let the other go, even as Greg’s body was carried past us on a mortuary stretcher. Single gunshot wound to the head was the cause of death.
He hadn’t wanted to harm her, not physically anyway. He’d wanted her to know what she had done to him before he’d killed himself in front of her. He was a very mentally sick man but I do feel for him. To be carrying that amount of pain around inside with no outlet for it is no way for anyone to live.
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Oh the dogs are awake.
Vinnie, the greyhound, stretches languorously on the end of our kingsized bed, with Eejit, the whippet, stretched out between his legs. Both are rescue dogs and adore both each other and Jilly. Me? They just tolerate me cause Jilly loves me but I think they prefer it when I’m not there. They’ll be wanting to be let out soon. Oh to hell with that, I ain’t leaving her till she’s awake.
Talk of the devil
“Morning wife.”
“Morning husband.” she whispers, mid yawn, “Have the dogs been walked yet?”
“No, I didn’t want to leave until you woke up.” I smile down at her, loving her even more than I did ten minutes ago.
“Well I’m awake now. Jon, I’m fine and I’m going to be fine, so there’s no need to worry. In fact all 3 of us will be fine.”
“All 3?..” confusion takes a hike as realisation puts the boot in.
“Morning Daddy.” she grins, reaching up for a kiss
Friday 20 February 2009
Part One - Jilly's Story
I have one thing to say.
Please Earth, open up and swallow me whole. I have a herd of incontinent buffalo galloping through my brain, leaving unpleasant deposits on my tongue and since when did my teeth grow hair?
Slowly I squint around the room, taking in the mellow apple walls and the rather tacky painting of a sunflower, along with the cheap 1960’s furniture and groan. It all adds up to my being in a motel. I turn over, slowly, wincing as my brain does a bungee jump and splats on the side of my head, yelling ‘Whoopee!’ as it does.
There’s someone in the bed with me.
Now I know for a fact that it’s not Pippa. Pippa is my best friend and confidante and partner in crime, she came over with me for this 4 day whirlwind tour of LA and besides, the body in the bed with me is most definitely not female.
He stirs in his sleep and turns over. Oh my god, it’s Jon Bon fucking Jovi! I’m in bed with one of the hottest men in the whole goddamned universe and I don’t remember how I got here. I look at him, taking in the high sculptured cheekbones, the full lips and wickedly sexy eyes, all softened by sleep. His tousled blonde mane is the very definition of bedhead. I can see a hint of chest hair growing back, curly and soft and I stop myself from reaching out to touch it to see if he’s real and this isn’t just a dream that the powers that be have visited on me.
He huffs in his sleep and pushes against the quilt, pushing it downwards. Eeek! I look under the quilt at myself. Totally naked. I try to hang on to an edge of the quilt to cover myself as I watch his body slowly being uncovered. The taut muscles on his chest, the faint outline of a six pack on his stomach, the soft downy hair leading to his groin…HIS GROIN!! Oh my god! I’m about to see Jon Bon Jovi naked. And, judging by the clothing dotted around the room, not for the first time but it’ll be the first time I’ll be able to remember. I lie and watch him, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of peace.
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All of my life I’ve been in a state of panic. Panic that my job wasn’t the right one, panic that the guy I was with wasn’t Mr Right but too scared to leave in case I was left on the proverbial shelf. At 30 your body clock hasn’t quite stopped but starts ticking loudly enough to let you know that the battery’s on the way out with no hope of a replacement. Like a molded plug on a kettle, you can’t change the fuse.
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I’m mesmerised as the blue material glides slowly over him, as if he knows I’m watching and is prolonging the show to tease me mercilessly. My breathing is getting shallower as my memory and body slowly begin to respond.
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I can remember how excited I was when I found out that I was the “Meet one of Bon Jovi” competition winner. I have never won a competition before in my life and only entered in on their website on a whim. You can imagine my shock when a couple of months later I get this email telling me, little old Jilly Lewis, that I was the winner and that my tickets would be posted soon for myself and a guest to come to LA/ Las Vegas depending on their schedule, to meet one of them for dinner and then to see them in concert.
Pippa was the first person I thought of as she’s been a fan almost as long as I have and the squeal on the other end of the phone told me she was just as excited as I was. She’s always been a Richie fan, a darksider, but me? It was always Jon for me. Every time. I cried when he married Dorothea in '89, kissed my posters and told myself it would be okay, he’d soon realise I was alive and come and get me. The fact that I was about 12 at the time didn’t really come into it. I’m not sure what it was about him that captivated me at such an early age, I mean puberty hadn’t even hit, though it was lurking around the corner like some nasty stalker, waiting until I was preoccupied with something else before striking in the most inopportune place and time. Pippa had been with me then as I sobbed in her arms. I was there for her when Richie married Heather. Likewise we were cheering for each other when both couples got divorced.
I don’t remember much of the flight over, just that Pip was as nervous and excited as I was as we sat, drinking Champagne, in the Business Class lounge waiting to board the plane and that we carried on drinking the whole way over the Atlantic.
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Looking around the motel room, I realise that maybe, just maybe, alcohol and I should part ways permanently.
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The hotel we were in was lovely, upmarket but not second mortgage expensive, but then what the hell did we care? We weren’t paying for it!
We sat in the cool reception waiting for Chrissie to show up to guide us around. The meet and greet dinner was scheduled for our second day but the band had sent along one of their PR people to take care of us for our first day. We spent the whole day traipsing around LA, window shopping in Rodeo Drive and marvelling at the huge houses in Beverly Hills. Our second day was spent on the beach in Venice before we were to be picked up and escorted to a private jet for the short trip to Vegas,
Vegas baby! What can I say ‘bout Vegas that hasn’t already been said? Nothing, so I shan’t.
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Jon stirs in his sleep, the quilt is going to completely expose him. I hold my breath as…he turns over, giving me a good view of his ass. Even so, it’s enough to get my juices flowing…
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‘I can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Jon Bon Jovi and he’s flirting with me.’
My brain went into automatic pilot as we chatted and flirted our way through starter, dinner, dessert and coffee. He had been welcoming and friendly as we were introduced at the start of the meal. He had brought Richie with him who had taken up all of Pip’s concentration, so I was really only left with Jon to talk to. Yeah like that was ever going to be a hard ship!
Pip was having the best time of her life, or so it seemed as she flirted and giggled all the way through the meal, whispering and occasionally holding hands with Richie, but then I wasn’t paying that much attention, I was flirting with Jon Bon Jovi! There was a strange chemistry between us, sexual..yes, but almost as if we had come home only to no home either one of us knew. We also found we had the ability to communicate without words. Usually when one of us was about to dare the other to do something not quite socially correct. Pippa had been replaced as my partner in crime, at least for that night.
His smooth, hint of whisky, voice rolled over me as he told me how he came to be an actor as well as a musician.
“Ya know music will always be my first love but sometimes you need something different. Like you’re not getting the stimulation you used to get so you try something else. That’s how it was. I did a bit part in Young Guns and loved it. I mean doing our videos has always been acting of a sorts so it was quite easy to make the transition into full time acting. Yeah, I took a coupla lessons. I mean who doesn’t when they’re starting off but I’m really proud of my achievements. But I decided that the pull that I get from music is more important to me and hopefully we’ll be around, as a band, for a long time.”
He was totally disarmingly refreshing and honest. Direct too, staring at me with that mega watt smile and those electric baby blues of his, his blonde mane framing his leonine face perfectly.
“I think the public will want you around for a few more years. I know I do.” the words slipped out without me realising.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” he replied, stroking my hand with his forefinger.
I remember that as this point we went on to a bar, I say we, I mean Jon and I as Pip and Richie ha disappeared off God knows where, and besides at that point I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the fact that I was with Jon going for a drink. I could feel something akin to love for him, something sudden and swift almost like I’d wrenched the arrow from Cupid and impaled myself upon it. I was wild and free, for the first time in years, and up for anything.
Many drinks later…
“Go on! Knock his hat off.” I whispered to Jon as we stood outside on the mezzanine balcony. A rather large man wearing a 10 gallon hat was outside on the ground level but if you bent down and put your arm through the iron bars you could just about reach…
Wham! The hat went flying, Jon stood up quickly and turned to face me, nonchalantly leaning on the railings. He had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. The score on the door was 3 hats to me but 8 to him. The man turned to look up just as Jon dared to look down. Their eyes met and we knew we were in trouble. He grabbed my hand, drinks flying and pulled through the bar, down the stairs and into the casino. I remember lots of laughter and smiles and promises of things to come.
“My god Jon, that was just so funny!” I said, as I managed to stop laughing, hanging onto his muscular arm for dear life.
I hadn’t had so much fun for ages. It was like playing knock down ginger, only using people instead of doors.
“You and me are dangerous together.” he laughed, “I Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” he said, mirroring my feelings, his wicked blue eyes glinting dangerously, his cheeks flushed
We made our way to the bar in the middle of the casino, he held onto my hand tightly as if to never let me go. My common sense, which at this point had been trying to get a foot in the door of reckless abandon, gave up and went away sulking.
More drinks followed.
What had happened next was a whirlwind of colours, the sounds of quarters chinking in and out of slot machines, bundles of cash being exchanged for plastic, large bundles of plastic being exchanged back for larger bundles of cash. Bright lights whirled around us as if we were the only couple in the world. Jon spent the evening with his arm around my shoulders, gently nuzzling my neck, at times kissing and stroking my hair. We were a sight to see: one tall with short blonde hair, one short with long blonde hair. Both unnaturally blonde, arms wrapped around each other, hungry for the other yet unwilling to give in, wanting the moment to be anticipated just a little longer.
My body felt liquid, as if my bones had melted every time he touched me.
The feeling inside was as fiery as my skin that burned with his touch. I knew I had the same effect on him, feeling it as he stood behind me, subtly at first then more pressing.
I groan as the memory of an alleyway filters into my brain, along with vague memories of being lifted into the air and impaled as well as getting down on my knees. God how could I? To have sex with someone I’ve just met and in an alleyway of all places, even if the memories are tinged with hot and heavy breathing and sweaty bodies molding together. I feel flushed as the memories of the pleasure rushes over me.
I remember he said he was in love with me and me saying it was mutual, but I’m not really sure at this point in time whether I dreamt that part….
A bright white light pierces my memory, with people throwing things at us as we ran off into the night, giggling like kids on a summer vacation.
----------------------------
Jon opens his eyes and, blinking away sleep, turns over. I look at him, my face flushed with lust and memories. He reaches for me and I can feel my skin burst into flames. What he does to me… just the nearness of him and I can’t breath. He nuzzles into the smooth silky skin of my neck, murmuring as he does, in that sexy slow drawl of his, words like love and forever. It makes me smile, he’s echoing what I’m feeling. Maybe he’s feeling it too and not just saying it for effect. I’m ready for him, always ready for him. Defcon 3 - permanent state of alertness, or maybe that should be Defcum 3...
He penetrates me easily, a good fit. I gasp as does he at the rightness of it. He moves against me, his hair flopping into his face, he doesn’t care about anything but being inside me right now. We move in unison, the age old dance, our bodies bathed in sweat, our fluids combining, bodies mingling until we’re not sure what’s mine and what’s his. I can feel the sweetness brewing from deep inside me, that pleasure pain that sends me over the top. It’s getting harder to breath now. A cry rings out in the still morning air, I realise it’s me crying out his name. His head rears back as he feels me tighten and envelop him in my hot, wet flesh. He roars ferally as we both release at the same time.
He falls down atop me, utterly exhausted. I croon into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as my body slowly calms down and the room begins to come into focus once more. I am totally and deeply head over heels in love with this man. I have known him for less than 24 hours but I know deep inside we have known each other forever.
I am contemplating the meaning of soul mates when sunlight glints. I look closer at his left hand. A wedding ring! Why didn’t I notice that last night?
Common sense makes a comeback, rather sheepishly and notes that I couldn’t remember my name last night let alone to check for wedding rings.
I put my hands over my face to hide my shame and feel something cool and alien. I look down at the little band of gold nestled snug on the thirs finger of my left hand and stare stupidly at it.
“Morning wife.” Jon says, smiling at me, awake in every sense of the word
“Morning h..husband.” I stammer, my whole being not quite able to take in the fact that I am apparently Mrs Jilly Bongiovi. What the fuck? When? How? Why? Take that last one back - stupid question.
He reaches for me again, my skin hot under his touch. I give in to him at once, no thought of pulling back. As he murmurs silly things in my ear, such as how many children we’ll have and the big party we’ll have to give to celebrate this wedding, all I can think of is
‘What am I going to tell my boyfriend?’
Please Earth, open up and swallow me whole. I have a herd of incontinent buffalo galloping through my brain, leaving unpleasant deposits on my tongue and since when did my teeth grow hair?
Slowly I squint around the room, taking in the mellow apple walls and the rather tacky painting of a sunflower, along with the cheap 1960’s furniture and groan. It all adds up to my being in a motel. I turn over, slowly, wincing as my brain does a bungee jump and splats on the side of my head, yelling ‘Whoopee!’ as it does.
There’s someone in the bed with me.
Now I know for a fact that it’s not Pippa. Pippa is my best friend and confidante and partner in crime, she came over with me for this 4 day whirlwind tour of LA and besides, the body in the bed with me is most definitely not female.
He stirs in his sleep and turns over. Oh my god, it’s Jon Bon fucking Jovi! I’m in bed with one of the hottest men in the whole goddamned universe and I don’t remember how I got here. I look at him, taking in the high sculptured cheekbones, the full lips and wickedly sexy eyes, all softened by sleep. His tousled blonde mane is the very definition of bedhead. I can see a hint of chest hair growing back, curly and soft and I stop myself from reaching out to touch it to see if he’s real and this isn’t just a dream that the powers that be have visited on me.
He huffs in his sleep and pushes against the quilt, pushing it downwards. Eeek! I look under the quilt at myself. Totally naked. I try to hang on to an edge of the quilt to cover myself as I watch his body slowly being uncovered. The taut muscles on his chest, the faint outline of a six pack on his stomach, the soft downy hair leading to his groin…HIS GROIN!! Oh my god! I’m about to see Jon Bon Jovi naked. And, judging by the clothing dotted around the room, not for the first time but it’ll be the first time I’ll be able to remember. I lie and watch him, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of peace.
-----------------------------
All of my life I’ve been in a state of panic. Panic that my job wasn’t the right one, panic that the guy I was with wasn’t Mr Right but too scared to leave in case I was left on the proverbial shelf. At 30 your body clock hasn’t quite stopped but starts ticking loudly enough to let you know that the battery’s on the way out with no hope of a replacement. Like a molded plug on a kettle, you can’t change the fuse.
------------------------------
I’m mesmerised as the blue material glides slowly over him, as if he knows I’m watching and is prolonging the show to tease me mercilessly. My breathing is getting shallower as my memory and body slowly begin to respond.
------------------------------
I can remember how excited I was when I found out that I was the “Meet one of Bon Jovi” competition winner. I have never won a competition before in my life and only entered in on their website on a whim. You can imagine my shock when a couple of months later I get this email telling me, little old Jilly Lewis, that I was the winner and that my tickets would be posted soon for myself and a guest to come to LA/ Las Vegas depending on their schedule, to meet one of them for dinner and then to see them in concert.
Pippa was the first person I thought of as she’s been a fan almost as long as I have and the squeal on the other end of the phone told me she was just as excited as I was. She’s always been a Richie fan, a darksider, but me? It was always Jon for me. Every time. I cried when he married Dorothea in '89, kissed my posters and told myself it would be okay, he’d soon realise I was alive and come and get me. The fact that I was about 12 at the time didn’t really come into it. I’m not sure what it was about him that captivated me at such an early age, I mean puberty hadn’t even hit, though it was lurking around the corner like some nasty stalker, waiting until I was preoccupied with something else before striking in the most inopportune place and time. Pippa had been with me then as I sobbed in her arms. I was there for her when Richie married Heather. Likewise we were cheering for each other when both couples got divorced.
I don’t remember much of the flight over, just that Pip was as nervous and excited as I was as we sat, drinking Champagne, in the Business Class lounge waiting to board the plane and that we carried on drinking the whole way over the Atlantic.
--------------------------
Looking around the motel room, I realise that maybe, just maybe, alcohol and I should part ways permanently.
----------------------------
The hotel we were in was lovely, upmarket but not second mortgage expensive, but then what the hell did we care? We weren’t paying for it!
We sat in the cool reception waiting for Chrissie to show up to guide us around. The meet and greet dinner was scheduled for our second day but the band had sent along one of their PR people to take care of us for our first day. We spent the whole day traipsing around LA, window shopping in Rodeo Drive and marvelling at the huge houses in Beverly Hills. Our second day was spent on the beach in Venice before we were to be picked up and escorted to a private jet for the short trip to Vegas,
Vegas baby! What can I say ‘bout Vegas that hasn’t already been said? Nothing, so I shan’t.
----------------------------------
Jon stirs in his sleep, the quilt is going to completely expose him. I hold my breath as…he turns over, giving me a good view of his ass. Even so, it’s enough to get my juices flowing…
----------------------------------
‘I can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Jon Bon Jovi and he’s flirting with me.’
My brain went into automatic pilot as we chatted and flirted our way through starter, dinner, dessert and coffee. He had been welcoming and friendly as we were introduced at the start of the meal. He had brought Richie with him who had taken up all of Pip’s concentration, so I was really only left with Jon to talk to. Yeah like that was ever going to be a hard ship!
Pip was having the best time of her life, or so it seemed as she flirted and giggled all the way through the meal, whispering and occasionally holding hands with Richie, but then I wasn’t paying that much attention, I was flirting with Jon Bon Jovi! There was a strange chemistry between us, sexual..yes, but almost as if we had come home only to no home either one of us knew. We also found we had the ability to communicate without words. Usually when one of us was about to dare the other to do something not quite socially correct. Pippa had been replaced as my partner in crime, at least for that night.
His smooth, hint of whisky, voice rolled over me as he told me how he came to be an actor as well as a musician.
“Ya know music will always be my first love but sometimes you need something different. Like you’re not getting the stimulation you used to get so you try something else. That’s how it was. I did a bit part in Young Guns and loved it. I mean doing our videos has always been acting of a sorts so it was quite easy to make the transition into full time acting. Yeah, I took a coupla lessons. I mean who doesn’t when they’re starting off but I’m really proud of my achievements. But I decided that the pull that I get from music is more important to me and hopefully we’ll be around, as a band, for a long time.”
He was totally disarmingly refreshing and honest. Direct too, staring at me with that mega watt smile and those electric baby blues of his, his blonde mane framing his leonine face perfectly.
“I think the public will want you around for a few more years. I know I do.” the words slipped out without me realising.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” he replied, stroking my hand with his forefinger.
I remember that as this point we went on to a bar, I say we, I mean Jon and I as Pip and Richie ha disappeared off God knows where, and besides at that point I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the fact that I was with Jon going for a drink. I could feel something akin to love for him, something sudden and swift almost like I’d wrenched the arrow from Cupid and impaled myself upon it. I was wild and free, for the first time in years, and up for anything.
Many drinks later…
“Go on! Knock his hat off.” I whispered to Jon as we stood outside on the mezzanine balcony. A rather large man wearing a 10 gallon hat was outside on the ground level but if you bent down and put your arm through the iron bars you could just about reach…
Wham! The hat went flying, Jon stood up quickly and turned to face me, nonchalantly leaning on the railings. He had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. The score on the door was 3 hats to me but 8 to him. The man turned to look up just as Jon dared to look down. Their eyes met and we knew we were in trouble. He grabbed my hand, drinks flying and pulled through the bar, down the stairs and into the casino. I remember lots of laughter and smiles and promises of things to come.
“My god Jon, that was just so funny!” I said, as I managed to stop laughing, hanging onto his muscular arm for dear life.
I hadn’t had so much fun for ages. It was like playing knock down ginger, only using people instead of doors.
“You and me are dangerous together.” he laughed, “I Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” he said, mirroring my feelings, his wicked blue eyes glinting dangerously, his cheeks flushed
We made our way to the bar in the middle of the casino, he held onto my hand tightly as if to never let me go. My common sense, which at this point had been trying to get a foot in the door of reckless abandon, gave up and went away sulking.
More drinks followed.
What had happened next was a whirlwind of colours, the sounds of quarters chinking in and out of slot machines, bundles of cash being exchanged for plastic, large bundles of plastic being exchanged back for larger bundles of cash. Bright lights whirled around us as if we were the only couple in the world. Jon spent the evening with his arm around my shoulders, gently nuzzling my neck, at times kissing and stroking my hair. We were a sight to see: one tall with short blonde hair, one short with long blonde hair. Both unnaturally blonde, arms wrapped around each other, hungry for the other yet unwilling to give in, wanting the moment to be anticipated just a little longer.
My body felt liquid, as if my bones had melted every time he touched me.
The feeling inside was as fiery as my skin that burned with his touch. I knew I had the same effect on him, feeling it as he stood behind me, subtly at first then more pressing.
I groan as the memory of an alleyway filters into my brain, along with vague memories of being lifted into the air and impaled as well as getting down on my knees. God how could I? To have sex with someone I’ve just met and in an alleyway of all places, even if the memories are tinged with hot and heavy breathing and sweaty bodies molding together. I feel flushed as the memories of the pleasure rushes over me.
I remember he said he was in love with me and me saying it was mutual, but I’m not really sure at this point in time whether I dreamt that part….
A bright white light pierces my memory, with people throwing things at us as we ran off into the night, giggling like kids on a summer vacation.
----------------------------
Jon opens his eyes and, blinking away sleep, turns over. I look at him, my face flushed with lust and memories. He reaches for me and I can feel my skin burst into flames. What he does to me… just the nearness of him and I can’t breath. He nuzzles into the smooth silky skin of my neck, murmuring as he does, in that sexy slow drawl of his, words like love and forever. It makes me smile, he’s echoing what I’m feeling. Maybe he’s feeling it too and not just saying it for effect. I’m ready for him, always ready for him. Defcon 3 - permanent state of alertness, or maybe that should be Defcum 3...
He penetrates me easily, a good fit. I gasp as does he at the rightness of it. He moves against me, his hair flopping into his face, he doesn’t care about anything but being inside me right now. We move in unison, the age old dance, our bodies bathed in sweat, our fluids combining, bodies mingling until we’re not sure what’s mine and what’s his. I can feel the sweetness brewing from deep inside me, that pleasure pain that sends me over the top. It’s getting harder to breath now. A cry rings out in the still morning air, I realise it’s me crying out his name. His head rears back as he feels me tighten and envelop him in my hot, wet flesh. He roars ferally as we both release at the same time.
He falls down atop me, utterly exhausted. I croon into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as my body slowly calms down and the room begins to come into focus once more. I am totally and deeply head over heels in love with this man. I have known him for less than 24 hours but I know deep inside we have known each other forever.
I am contemplating the meaning of soul mates when sunlight glints. I look closer at his left hand. A wedding ring! Why didn’t I notice that last night?
Common sense makes a comeback, rather sheepishly and notes that I couldn’t remember my name last night let alone to check for wedding rings.
I put my hands over my face to hide my shame and feel something cool and alien. I look down at the little band of gold nestled snug on the thirs finger of my left hand and stare stupidly at it.
“Morning wife.” Jon says, smiling at me, awake in every sense of the word
“Morning h..husband.” I stammer, my whole being not quite able to take in the fact that I am apparently Mrs Jilly Bongiovi. What the fuck? When? How? Why? Take that last one back - stupid question.
He reaches for me again, my skin hot under his touch. I give in to him at once, no thought of pulling back. As he murmurs silly things in my ear, such as how many children we’ll have and the big party we’ll have to give to celebrate this wedding, all I can think of is
‘What am I going to tell my boyfriend?’
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