54:The Visit

“Come in,” Desiree invited, flattening her shorts and t-shirt clad body against the front door to make room for Charlie to pass while one arm still held the glass storm door open.  “I hope traffic didn’t suck too bad.”

“It was… the usual,” she offered dryly, crossing the threshold into the comfortable living room with oak hardwood floors.  The ponytail threaded through the Giants cap that matched her t-shirt swished as she turned to make sure the door latched.  “At least it’s Monday night instead of Friday.”

“Charlie!” came Lilah’s cheerful greeting from somewhere on the other side of the wall.  “Hurry if you want wine!  I had to hide it from Des to save you any.”

“Bullshit!”  Desiree’s swearing snort sounded so much like her husband’s that Charlie had to smile.  “You left Tony with the kids and now you’re halfway to drunk.”

Following the sound of the voice led to the dining room that had the same beautiful hardwood and felt just as homey.  Lilah sat at the far end of the table that was strewn with photo albums and loose pictures as well as a few framed ones, and a partially filled wineglass sat beside her. 

“Honey, if there’s no paper umbrellas, I’m not drinkin’ more than a thimbleful and you know it.  Y’all and your wine obsession don’t make a damn bit o’ sense to me.” 

Charlie slid into a chair beside her, captivated by the overwhelming assortment that was here, and picked up the nearest photo.  It was a family photo that likely dated back to the seventies.  A teenage Jon, pre-adolescent Tony and young Matt were all appropriately arranged in front of the couple that she presumed to be their parents.

“Jacob looks so much like Jon,” she murmured with wonder at the mischievous eyes and cocky smile that could be Jon’s middle boy.  “And his parents are an attractive couple.  No wonder they had such handsome sons.”

“Jake’s his total mini me, right?” Lilah set a glass of wine at her elbow.  “Those Bongiovi genes are the oddest thing, though.  The siblin’s only vaguely take after each other, but they’re all good lookin’ in their own way.”

Charlie could see what she meant.  Jon, Tony and Matt all had their own distinctive good looks.  Without previous knowledge that they were brothers, one would never guess that was the case, and she could see the same was true of their children.  Jon’s four certainly weren’t clones, and Isabella was the spitting image of Matt while Rocco more closely resembled Desiree.  Lilah’s two were just as different with dark-haired Micah favoring her father and Lucas being so much lighter with his strawberry blonde hair.

The only thing they all shared was a beautiful smile.

One of the men who owned those smiles appeared in the dining room’s second doorway – the one that didn’t lead to the living room.  “Babe, I’m gonna run to Home Depot,” Matt informed his wife.  “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay.”  Des waved a casual hand without rousing her attention from the album she flipped through.  “We’ll be here.”

He was turning to follow through with that declaration, but his head snapped back around when catching sight of Charlie.  Perhaps it was only her imagination, but she thought the eyes that were similar to Jon’s lost some of their shine.  “Hey, Charlie.”

“Hey.”                                                                                                             

Without returning her smile, he pushed both hands into his back pockets and very casually mentioned, “I saw your boys in Vancouver over the weekend.  It was quite a… shock.”

Dammit.

Those dulling eyes hadn’t been her imagination at all.  Jon wasn’t the kiss and tell type, so she hadn’t dreamed that anyone in this house would be aware of her little secret.  Matt was not only aware, but he wanted to convey his distaste for it. 

The only thing that struck her odd about his dislike of the situation is that he didn’t voice it outright.  She’d spent enough time with him to know he spoke as bluntly as his brothers, and couldn’t imagine why he was offering her the courtesy of discretion. 

It’s not you he’s offering the courtesy to.  It’s his brother.

Recalling how angry Jon was on the phone with her, he had to have been hot as a pistol right after it happened.  His mouth had probably gone a mile a minute, and God only knew what all had been said.  Matt might know more than Charlie’s marital status.

Struggling to maintain an unaffected expression in front of the other women, she dug deep for her lawyer face.  “I heard they came backstage after the show, but I didn’t realize…  For some reason I forgot you’re Jon’s personal security.  Of course you would have been there.”

“Uh huh.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the consideration…”  She deliberately let the pause stretch until he dipped his chin in acknowledgement.  “For the boys.  Thank you.”

“I’m there to handle shit for Jon.  That’s what I do.”

Unable to come up with an appropriate response to the flat statement, Charlie could have kissed Desiree for interceding.

“I thought you were leaving?”

“Yeah.  I am.”  Without sparing Charlie another glance, he kissed his wife and went out the same way he entered.

Holy friggin’ Moses. Jon and I need to talk about more than my marriage – like who knows what and how far that information is going to travel.

Exhaling imperceptibly, she latched onto the wineglass like a drowning woman would a life preserver.  It was a challenge to swallow deeply without gulping, but she managed to do it and set the glass back on the table so that she could consciously redirect her focus to the photos in front of her.

“What was that about?” The quiet question came from Lilah, naturally. 

“Hmm?” Charlie stalled while trying to determine just how bad it would sound if she stuck with the truth.  She didn’t want to lie to these women and, turning it over in her head, she decided she didn’t have to.  “Oh, Noah and Caleb went to see their dad in Canada last week.  I guess he took them to Jon’s Vancouver thing and they ended up backstage afterward.”

“That’s nice.  You have such good kids.”

Humming her thanks, she turned back to the photos, finding that they were all of the family variety with two or more of the brothers in each one.  Some were of them in the younger, pre-Bon Jovi years, and many of them were after.  A lopsided smirk materialized as she fixated on a framed picture that had obviously been removed from a wall or table to join the others. 

This one was the Bongiovi men in recent years.  Their father was in the center, wearing a black suit coat and pristine white shirt while surrounded by his sons in their button-down shirts.  With Jon and Tony both in black and Matt in blue, there was no obvious rock star in this picture unless it was the senior Bongiovi.  All three sons were deferential in their poses and smiles, giving him center stage.

A proud papa and his proud sons.  It was a nice photo.

“That one,” Desiree said, “Was taken just a couple years ago.  Matt keeps it on his desk.”

“That photo shoot was engineered mostly to get a good photo of Mr. B. for the pasta sauce label.”  Lilah’s look of doting affection showed that she was as smitten with the picture as Charlie was.  “But since it was almost Father’s Day, we convinced them to do some family-type photos.  There’s a couple around here with Mrs. B., too, but the one you’re holdin’ is my favorite.  I swear, the testosterone bleeds through the print.”

Charlie couldn’t disagree.  The men were all striking in their own, distinctive ways, but it was Jon’s subdued smile that drew her more than the others.  Maybe because of the chemistry between them.  Maybe because they’d had sex. 

Or maybe because you have a good, old-fashioned crush on him.

That was always possible, too. 

“I really like it,” she confessed, putting it on the table to pull out her phone and take a snapshot.  “But I feel if I put in a group photo of him and his brothers, both parents should represented.  Do either of you know if Jon has a particular favorite that fits that description?”

“He likes them all.”  Desiree shrugged.  “There are family photos everywhere in the big house, and that was his doing more than Dorothea’s.  He’s a photo freak who’s all about capturing moments in time.”

Nodding her head, Lilah was emphatic in her agreement.  “True story!  You’d think as many cameras have been snapped at him, he’d hate the daggone things.  Bafflin’.  I can’t think of one with John and Carol that he’s partial to, but I know there’s one in his livin’ room that he loves.  Him, Dorothea and the kids on the steps of the Hamptons house.”

“True.  I might have a copy of it here somewhere.”  Shuffling through the albums and photos, Desiree ultimately frowned and said, “I guess not.  Is it kosher to immortalize his ex, anyway?  Here are pictures of the grandparents and great-grandparents.”

Charlie pondered Desiree’s question about immortalizing Dorothea, not knowing how comfortable she was putting his ex-wife on the wall.  Grandparents were definitely included, though, and she snapped those as they were put before her. 

His family wasn’t intended to take center stage in the mural, but they were essential to Jon’s New Jersey, and it was important to her that they be represented.  As much as she might like to, she could never afford to repay him the money he lost on the Hamptons house, but she could try and make amends in other, smaller ways – like ensuring that this project was special for him.

They were laughing over a picture of toddler Matt with his head stuck between the stair balusters when the doorbell chimed.  In a split second, Isabella came tearing through, declaring, “I’ll get it!”

“Don’t open the storm door until you tell me who it is!”

Remembering the days of being an over-cautious mom, Charlie sipped her wine thoughtfully.  It had been a long time ago and there were parts of her that missed having someone to coddle.  Then again, she wouldn’t be able to see the light at the end of her tunnel if the boys were still little.

“It’s Aunt Dot!”

“Dot?”  Desiree looked at Lilah before calling out, “Okay, you can open the door!”

“Oops.  I sort of invited her and forgot to mention it.  We haven’t seen each other in months and she called because she was passin’ thru tonight.  I didn’t think it would be a problem if she stopped by.”

And I thought dealing with Matt was awkward. 

Talking to Dorothea had never been a chore before, but considering the events of the past few weeks, this could be an uncomfortable situation if she allowed it.  That wasn’t going to happen, though.  She would make the best of it or die trying. 

“Dot!”  Lilah hopped up with her orange sundress floating around her as she scooted around the table to wrap the newcomer in a warm hug as Isabella scuttled back into the depths of the house.  “It’s so good to see you!  How’ve you been?”

“It’s good seeing you guys, too!”  Dorothea returned the hug just as warmly before moving on to Desiree as next in line.  "And…”

That hesitation was the point when Charlie knew Jon’s ex-wife recognized her under the ball cap. 

Rising, she stepped in to offer her own hug, although it wasn’t quite as zealous as those of the other two women.  “Hello, Dorothea.  How are you?”

“I’m…”  Eyes filled with confusion looked from the Bongiovi women to the table covered with family photos to Charlie.  “I’m good, thanks.”

“Oh, Lord,” Lilah lamented.  “Seein’ Charlie here is prob’ly somethin’ of a surprise, I reckon.  Sit down and I’ll run get another glass so you can have wine while we tell you about it.”

As Charlie took her seat with Dorothea sitting across from her, Desiree reclaimed her position at the near end of the table to ask, “What brings you to through Jersey?”

The former Mrs. Bongiovi put her handbag on the floor and pushed the hair from her face, regarding Charlie with concern before she answered. 

“Jake.  It’s the first week of school and everyone in the class has to do some kind of get to know you project.  The teacher asked them to bring the most interesting thing in their house, and Jake wanted to take the Grammy.  Since Jon was in his studio with John Shanks tonight, it worked out that he was home, so we came to get it.”

The Grammy that Charlie had pushed to get from Jon and send with the kids in the divorce settlement, just because she was being a bitch.  In the long run, after he sent scathing words back through his attorney, she realized she’d gone too far and withdrew the excessive demand.

Ohhhhh the irony…

“Where are the boys, then?” Desiree inquired picking through a stack of photos.

“Spending the night with Jon.  They didn’t want to go back to the city once they got inside the house, so he’s taking them to school in the morning.”

“And here you are with us,”  Lilah chirped cheerfully as she came back in the room to place an empty glass in front Dorothea as Charlie tried not to down the rest of hers in one swallow. 

“So…”  Intently watching the wine stream from the bottle into her glass, Dorothea asked, “Is somebody getting a divorce?”

“Not me.”

“No way in hell,” the sassy Kentuckian echoed Desiree’s laughed denial as she set the wine bottle aside and tucked a leg under her in the chair.  “Tony’s not gettin’ out that easy.  That’s not why Charlie’s here.”

Dot’s mask of concern was exchanged with one of relief.  “Good.  Because that would’ve been not only surprising but upsetting.”

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie chuckled at how this must appear.  “I never even thought of how you might perceive my being here.  My boys met your boys on the beach in East Hampton, so that resulted in me getting to know the rest of the family.”

“Including Jon?”  Dorothea’s eyebrows arched high into her forehead with the question, and when she received three nodding heads as her response, she followed with, “And he knew who you were?  Because, being intimately familiar with his opinion of my ‘bitch divorce lawyer’, I can’t imagine that going well.”

“It didn’t.”  Lilah grinned evilly as she absentmindedly rearranged the photos on the table.  “At first.  They ended up getting along okay before the week was over, and she painted the lilac trees from the front driveway on her kitchen wall.  Now he wants her to do a mural for the studio and she’s here to get some ideas by looking at pictures.”

Thank God nobody can read my mind for my own personal instant replay of that week.

Instead of providing that instant replay, what followed was Charlie’s marginally lengthier explanation that provided the breadcrumb trail needed to make Lilah’s narrative seem less shocking and more mundane.  Photos of Charlie’s walls were presented along with the explanation, which naturally prompted Dorothea’s surprise at her artistic ability.

“I’m only a bitch divorce lawyer by day,” she laughed it away with a rueful grin.  “I’m a bitch artist by night.”

The other women tittered along with her, but Dorothea was serious when adding, “I’m not surprised he commissioned the mural, especially if you’re willing to take the time to bring his vision to life.  Jon loves being a musician and songwriter, but he has often joked about wanting to be a Tico Torres, too.”

“Because Tico’s a drummer?” Desiree asked curiously. 

“Because Tico paints.” 

Dorothea nodded at Charlie’s quiet comment.  “There was actually a pretty deep thought process behind it, as I recall.  I can’t recite it word for word, but Jon said something about music being inkblots and that sometimes inkblots didn’t cut it.  He wanted to be able to share his songwriting vision in Technicolor detail if he chose to.” 

Even that incomplete memory was enough to strike a chord within Charlie.  There was more to Jon Bon Jovi than the crude mother he proclaimed himself, just like she was more than the bitch she tended to be.  Inside both of them was something far gentler, and she’d gotten a glimpse of it this morning when he fixed her coffee and took care of Nana. 

There were other glimpses, too, if she took the time to count them.  His remembrance of her drink preference when she first came to his house.  His Google search for a sunset dinner location.  His invitation to Neverland, even though it hadn’t materialized yet.

Jon let himself slip every once in a while.  Maybe it was time for Charlie to let herself slip a little more.