Chapter Four

Stumbling from the shower, Jon dried off and - as ordered - cleaned his teeth, then went into the bedroom and found a clean pair of shorts and a battered t shirt. When he pulled the shorts on, he realised just how long he’d gone without food - he was always slim, but now the shorts hung loose on his waist, only his hipbones preventing gravity taking them to his ankles.

His hair was still dripping, and he went back to the bathroom, scooping up the towel he’d dropped to the floor and giving it another brisk rub, until at least the dripping stopped. Feeling maybe seventy percent human, he headed downstairs.

In the kitchen, Dot had given up on finding anything to eat or drink, and she was standing by the French windows that led from kitchen to deck, gazing out at the beach. There was just a hint of Jon’s reflection in the glass, then his arms wound around her waist, pulling her to him.

“Hi, baby.” He murmured in her ear, his breath sweet and minty.

“Hi.” She said, hesitating, but deciding to leave the ass-kicking until she’d at least got some food into him. “You have no food here.”

“I know. There’s coffee, though.” His voice was hopeful, but he couldn’t smell coffee.

“Oh, I know there’s coffee.” Dot turned around in his arms. “But unfortunately you killed the coffee maker.”

“I did? I haven’t used it in………..”

“You haven’t used it since you left it switched on and climbed into bed with Jack.” Dot replied. “I think you blew the thermostat. Anyway, it doesn’t work any more. Which isn’t really a problem, because there’s a half inch of tar welded into it anyway. With fur spots.”

“Fur spots?” Then he got it. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Dot brought her hands onto his sides, rubbing gently, feeling how prominent his ribs were. “Put some shoes on and we’ll go get something to eat. You need to eat.”

“I guess I do. My shorts are falling off.”

“Well, wear a belt, then - I don’t want you getting arrested for indecency.”

Dot tried to move out of his arms, but he held her, looking deep into her eyes.

“I cleaned my teeth, mom.” He whispered, laying his mouth onto hers.

They kissed slowly, deeply, then parted, Jon heading upstairs to find his shoes while Dot grabbed the phone and called the local cab company. When Jon came back, wearing running shoes and a ball cap over his damp hair, Dot grabbed her purse and they both put on sunglasses before heading outside. Jon shivered, even the California sun couldn’t penetrate the weary chill lingering in his body, and he ran back indoors, finding a sweater before the cab arrived.

Dot instructed the cab driver to take them to a nearby diner, and when they got there they settled themselves into a corner booth, Jon out of sight of the rest of the patrons. The waitress brought coffee and menus, then left them alone, too busy to hang around while they decided what they wanted.

Jon didn’t truly feel hungry, even though he knew that he must be, and he avoided his immediate fancy of pancakes, knowing that the fluffy, sweet food would just stick in his throat. Eventually, he decided on bacon and scrambled eggs, hoping he’d be able to eat it. Even more hoping he’d be able to keep it down, as the rich smells around them were nauseating him. The coffee, he was able to drink, thankfully, and Dot watched as he gulped it down. When they placed their order, she asked for a jug of ice water, and she practically forced Jon to drink glasses of it while they waited, sure he had to be dehydrated from his self-imposed starvation.

When the food arrived, Jon cautiously forked up some egg, but at the first taste his hunger hit him full force, and he started to eat in earnest, finishing the lot, and both his and Dot’s toast, before sitting back with a slightly sick expression.

“I think I ate too much.” He mumbled, and Dot laughed at him.

“Well, don’t even think about throwing up on me.” She warned. “You just needed food, baby. Now drink your coffee.”

By the time Dot had finished her own meal, Jon at least no longer felt like he might hurl if he moved, and he blushed when Dot pulled out money for the bill. He hadn’t even given a thought to bringing money with him. Dot saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes.

“Good thing one of us has a brain.” She told him, and he just nodded, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, it is.” He looked around. “D’you want to get them to call a cab for us?”

“Nope.” She got to her feet, looking down at him. “We’re walking back. You need the exercise. And the air.”

“Walk?” Jon looked stunned. “But it’s……”

“It’s less than a mile, and you run further than that when you’re on stage. On your feet, Jonny.”

Grumbling slightly, but not really serious, Jon followed her outside, and they walked slowly back along the shoulder to his house. He could feel the strength returning to his limbs, partly from the food and partly just from moving around again, and as his muscles warmed he let his stride lengthen a little, Dot not saying a word, just keeping pace with him until they reached the turn-off to his house, where she stopped.

“You go home.” She instructed him. “I’m going to walk along to the store, get some food.”

Jon hesitated, then shook his head. “S’okay, babe. I’ll come with.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

So they went to the tiny store, just a bit further along the road. It was really a roadside fruit store, but it did sell a few necessities, and they picked up bread, milk and butter. It wasn’t much, but it would do for the moment. When Jon suggested coffee, Dot reminded him it’d have to be instant, since the coffee machine had gone bang, and with a grimace he changed his mind, just grabbing a couple of quarts of juice instead. Again, Dot paid, then they hauled it all back to the house and took it inside.

They put everything into the fridge - thankfully Jon’s housekeeper had cleaned it out after he left, so there was nothing living in there - and took a couple of glasses of juice out onto the deck, settling into the comfortably cushioned chairs.

Dot let him sip juice for a few minutes, then she twisted around to face him.

“So. D’you want to tell me what’s going on?” She asked softly.

“Huh? Oh. I just……….I don’t know, Dot.” Jon stared out at the beach as he spoke. “The tour was going great, until a couple months ago, then we started fighting. More and more often. Doc tried to slow us down, to cut some dates, but….”

“But you’re Superman.” Dot finished for him.

“Yeah.” Jon sighed sadly. “At this point, baby, I don’t even know if the band still exists. I haven’t spoken to the guys since we left South America. I’ve barely spoken to Richie in two weeks. Since the second time he punched me out.”

“He what?”

“I probably deserved it. I guess I was pushing everybody too hard, maybe. Hell, even Teek isn’t talking to me.” He could feel the self-pity building again, but he tried to fight it back. Amazing, really, that just having Dot next to him was giving him strength.

“And what else?” Dorothea was nobody’s fool. There was more to this than just a spat within the band.

“What else?” Jon repeated on a sigh. “Honestly?” He rolled his head to look at her.

“Well, duh, yeah.”

“Honestly………if this is success, why the fuck did I want it?” There. He’d said it aloud. To another person. And the sky hadn’t fallen in. “I mean, is it worth it? Any of it? I haven’t seen you in months, I don’t even talk to the guys who used to be my best friends - the guy I thought of as my brother hates me. They all hate me.” He snorted softly. “Hell, I hate me. I think I’m losing my mind. Or maybe I already lost it.”

“Well, we’ll just have to find it again, won’t we?” Dot reached to touch his face, then steeled herself. “But, before anything else, you need to decide. You need to know. What do you want, Jon? What do you want to do?”

“What do I……?” He frowned. “I guess I need to talk with the record company, and Doc, maybe find out…..”

“No. Wrong answer.” Dot tugged at his hair. Man, he was dense sometimes. “Forget work. Forget the record company. Forget the music business, and the band, and Doc, and, and everything. What do you, John Francis Bongiovi, want to do? Right now? What do you want to do?”

“I……….” Jon paused. What the hell did he want to do? It had been so long since everything he did - everything he was - hadn’t revolved around work that it was hard to remember there was a world outside the band and the business. “I……ummmm……”

Dot didn’t say anything else, just sat back again and sipped her juice, watching Jon surreptitiously as he blinked in surprise, the question obviously one he’d never asked himself before. Slowly, he got to his feet, pacing back and forth on the deck, stopping to lean on the rail and gaze out at the beach. She saw it, saw when he made the decision, saw his back straighten slightly and his whole posture change from the broken, defeated man back toward the guy she’d fallen in love with. When he turned to her, his smile was almost back to that true Jonny smile, and he walked over to her with a snap in his step.

“Let’s take off, Dot.” He said enthusiastically. “I’ve been all over the country - hell, all over the world, but that’s for another time. I’ve been all over this country, and never actually seen it. I’ve seen bars and hotels and arenas, and insides of buses and planes, but I’ve never actually seen the country. Let’s do it.”

“Do what?” Confused as she was, his enthusiasm was infectious.

“Let’s take the bike, take a change of clothes, and get the fuck out of here. Let’s just see where the road takes us.”

“And what about the band? The work?” She asked carefully.

“Fuck it.” Jon couldn’t quite believe he’d just said that. “I need to…….I need to find me again before I can worry about that. Please, Dot. Come with me.” A scared look flashed over his face. “I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

“You’re not alone.” She whispered, smiling up at him.