Chapter 69

Richie was in the kitchen, stacking dishes into the dishwasher, when he heard the low trill of his cellphone from the living room.

“Shit.” He muttered.

He’d forgotten he’d left it there, and he moved quickly to grab it, hoping it hadn’t disturbed Billie’s nap. It hadn’t, and he smiled at the sight of her sleeping soundly on his couch as he snatched the phone from the coffee table. The display told him it was Jon, and he flipped it open as he headed back to the kitchen, keeping his voice low.

“Hey bro.”

“Hey Rich. What’s happenin’?”

Richie blinked in some surprise. Last time he’d spoken with Jon, his friend had sounded as lost and confused as he’d ever heard him. Now, though, he sounded like a man who’d reached a decision. But about what?

“Nothin’ much here.” Richie leaned against the counter, reaching for his freshly re-filled mug of coffee. “You? You sound……better.”

Jon chuckled wryly. “Dunno ‘bout better, Rich, but I’ve finally managed to make a decision.”

“About what?” Please, please don’t let him say he’s going to try to get back with Billie. One, ‘cause I think she’ll say no - hope she’ll say no - and two because I want……I’d like to try to get to know her better.

“Dot can have the apartment. She can have the city. I’m goin’ back home. Back where I belong.”

“You’re movin’ back out to Jersey?”

“Yeah.” Jon raked a hand through his hair, then picked up his coffee, settling more comfortably back into his favorite chair. “I don’t fuckin’ belong here. I……..I was sitting looking at apartments Judy had found for me……..and I went to pour myself more wine and found I’d already sunk two bottles today. Three-o-fucking-clock and I was two bottles down.”

“And you didn’t even feel drunk?” Richie’s voice was soft and understanding. Hell, it should be - he’d been there, done that. “So you realised that just maybe there was a problem?”

“Yeah.” Jon sighed again.

“At least you realised it a damned sight quicker than I did, Jon. First step is to realise you have a problem. You don’t see the problem, you’ve no chance in hell of fixing it.”

“Yea-I-know.” Jon ran the words together before slurping coffee.

“So when you moving?”

“I packed a bag already. Dot can have Belle pack up the rest of my shit and send it out. I’m gonna call for a car, but I just wanted - needed - to tell you.” Jon gave a twisted grin that Richie obviously couldn’t see. “If you talk with Billie, you could let her know.”

“Sure, bro.” Richie spoke without thinking. “I’ll let her know when she wakes up.”

“When she……..huh?” What the fuck?

“When she wakes up.” Richie repeated, now realising how it might sound, but refusing to feel guilty for……hell, for doing nothing wrong. “She got out of hospital today, and I brought her back to my place for lunch - no sense exposing her to the fuckin’ jackals from TMZ right away. When she’s a bit stronger, sure, she’ll be able to deal with them, but right now she needs to get better without any more stress.”

“Oh.” Jon said lamely. Get a fuckin’ grip Jon! Not like Richie’s gonna do anything with her, is it? Hell, not like she’s in any condition to…….

“The getting out of hospital and all tired her out, and she’s napping on my couch.” Richie’s voice hardened a fraction. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Shit. Sorry, Rich. Of course it’s okay - I just was surprised is all. Hell, I’m glad you did that - I’ve been so wrapped up in all my own shit here, I just haven’t had - haven’t made - the time to visit her up in the hospital.”

“I know.” But Richie’s tone was calm, not censorious. “And Billie understands that, too. She’s a very cool lady.”

“That she is.” Jon agreed, then glanced at his watch. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk with you later, ‘kay?”

“Sure. I’ll be here. And - for what it’s worth? I think you’ve made the right decision, to move back to Jersey.”

Ending the call, Richie laid down his phone. Was he that transparent? That Jon could tell he was interested in Billie? Nah, surely not. More like the usual Bongiovi control-freak nature was disturbed by not knowing every little detail. Well, screw that. He slugged another mouthful of coffee before walking quietly toward the living room, seeing Billie still asleep. Smiling, Richie went into the spare bedroom and grabbed the soft comforter from the bed, bringing it through and laying it gently over Billie before rescuing his coffee from the kitchen and settling himself back onto the other couch. Propping his white-socked feet on the coffee table again, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the silence.

Billie woke to a dim room, daylight already giving way to twilight. As her eyes adjusted, she frowned. Sure as hell wasn’t a hospital room. Then she remembered. Okay, so her memory was kick-started by the sound of soft snoring, and she twisted her head to look toward the sound, seeing Richie asleep on the next couch, an empty mug cradled against his belly. She smiled. Not only was she comfortable enough with him to fall asleep - though at least she had the excuse of post-hospital-tiredness - but he was obviously comfortable enough with her there to fall asleep himself.

She moved slightly, trying for a more comfortable position, only to realise the reason she’d woken was that her bladder was none-too-politely telling her to get up.

“Shit.” She whispered.

Richie hadn’t exactly given her the guided tour, and she’d no clue where his bathroom - or more likely bathrooms - was. She debated whether to wake him, then decided against it. Surely it couldn’t be that hard to find the bathroom? With that decision made, she eased from the couch, smiling as she folded back the thick cover which had been over her, clearly put there by Richie. Watching her path carefully, she began her search for the bathroom.