131:Roller Coaster

The air was just humid enough to hold the warmth of the day as Charlie stood in line for water at the exit of Aerosmith’s Rockin’ Roller Coaster, trying to imagine how the boys were going to receive the news of Owen's death.  Jon was pacing in front of bushes tucked in a corner between the ride’s entrance and where she was, speaking animatedly into his phone.

Agreeing to this extra time at Disney had been a mistake on her part.  After what happened at the Tri-Circle-D this morning and the difficult phone calls both of them had endured to make this extra day happen… 

Well, frankly, they weren’t going to be able to recapture the whimsy and unfettered enjoyment of the last few days.  She feared that they were going to end up tarnishing their memories rather than adding to them, but it had seemed so important to him that Charlie couldn’t refuse. 

She had bypassed talking to her father or Vince, both of which had left voicemails ordering that she call them back.   Instead, she called Luke with the idea that he would be the least demanding of her family members.  She should’ve remembered that the least demanding was still demanding.

Her brother didn’t give a tinker’s damn about Owen and relayed that information in no uncertain terms such as “rot in hell” and “couldn’t happen to a nicer guy”.  Much of her felt the same way, but there was a tiny spot of melancholy that left her feeling disquieted about the whole thing.  That disquiet was what she held responsible for telling Luke to “mind his own goddamn business” when he happily observed that she was now free to marry Jon, and she followed that up with a reminder that her sons lost their father in the deal. 

True to the black and white nature of her brothers, he flatly informed her that Owen was a shitty influence and that Noah and Caleb were now relieved of the obligation to be swayed by it.  They would be better men in the end, he vowed, and Charlie chose not to argue with him any further.  She asked him to tell everyone else that she’d be home tomorrow evening and the boys would be there for the weekend.

The boys themselves were confused as to why they were being ferried home only a short time before they were scheduled to come for their week-long Thanksgiving break.  Her initial impulse was to offer “because I said so” in the traditional fashion of mothers around the world, but Charlie ended up telling them that their charter-plane trip was part of Jon’s birthday gift to her.  Since they wouldn’t have to worry about excess luggage charges, she also suggested that they bring all their laundry home, too.  

In yet another mystery of the universe, her boys became far less inquisitive once they realized maid-service was included in the trip. 

Lilah easily agreed to house Nana for another day, saying that the kids were having a ball.  At least that part went smoothly. 

Jon didn’t tell her who his calls were to, but when they were done, he looked more harried than he had before.  He waved off her concern, saying that they’d talk about it later and revealing only that they’d secured the suite for another night and had park access until closing tomorrow. 

As they’d been approaching the Fast Pass line for the roller coaster, he got another call that turned his face dark.  That’s the one he was still on and, while her lip-reading skills weren’t great, she was pretty sure he’d just called someone a “fucker”.

They should’ve just gone home as planned.

Sighing, she moved up another space in line.  There were only two people ahead of her now, and Charlie hoped that he was done by the time she was.

“No kids with you?”

With a neutral smile in place, she turned behind her to the man who had spoken.  About her age and well-built, he was wearing mirrored sunglasses with his red tank and cargo shorts. 

“No,” she responded politely into the movie-star smile that still fell short of Jon’s.  “I sent my kids to college so I could come to Disney.”

“Ah-ha…. I love it when a beautiful woman has brains, too.”

Completely insulted by his approval, Charlie mentally deemed the man a jerk.  With her hair slicked into a ponytail, sunglasses on top of her head, no makeup, a Cinderella t-shirt, capris and sneakers… she was one of hundreds just like her in this park. 

She hovered on the verge of telling him that divorce attorneys had to have brains to sever the balls of men like him, but this was the happiest place on earth.  Being a bitch disrupted that aura, so she only smiled blandly in response to his superficial stupidity before stepping up to give her order.

“That’ll be six dollars,” the mouse-eared employee requested when plunking the bottle down on the aluminum counter. 

“Let me get that for you.”  Reaching around Charlie’s right side, Mirrored Sunglasses held a twenty-dollar bill out to the kiosk worker.

Oh, hell no.

Her mouth popped open to verbalize that refusal at the same time a warm hand settled at the small of her back and a hundred-dollar bill appeared from Charlie’s left. 

“Thanks, man, but I’ve got it,” her favorite New Jersey voice insisted just before determined lips brushed against her temple.  “In fact, let us get yours.  Use that until it’s gone.”

The kiosk worker nodded her head at the instructions, her eyes a little wide with surprise.  It was nothing in comparison to Mirrored’s response, though.

“Holy crap!  You’re Jon Bon Jovi!”

On cue, her boyfriend produced the media smile that told Charlie his eyes were emotionless behind tinted lenses.  “And this is my girlfriend, Charlie. Take care, man.”

The pressure of Jon’s hand intensified on her back and guided them away from the line as she smothered a grin.  Snapping the seal on the water bottle, she offered it to him while observing, “I think he may have wet his pants with excitement.”

“That was premature ejaculation from ogling your ass,” Jon growled quietly.  “This shit wouldn’t happen if you wore a ring.”

Biting back the words that sprang to the tip of her tongue, Charlie reminded herself that she’d already refused to marry him once today – and again… this was the happiest place on earth.  She swallowed her original bitch blast along with a cool drink of water before noting quietly, “I don’t recall being offered a ring.”

The rubber soles of his sneakers practically screeched on the asphalt when he drew up short to pin her with a look of barefaced incredulity.  “Last time I checked, marriage comes with a ring.”

“But rings aren’t only given within the confines of marriage,” she countered.

“So you’re telling me you’d wear a ring on your left hand, just not marry me?”

Purposely avoiding the marriage portion of that question, Charlie used her legal training to spin things in a less controversial direction.  “I have no objections to wearing a symbol of commitment, which you should know since I let you shackle me.”

“That’s different,” was his curt dismissal.  “That bracelet signifies something specific to you and me, but the guy ogling your ass has no idea that it’s anything other than a bracelet.  A ring on your left hand is universally interpreted to mean ‘step off’.”

Humor warred with mild annoyance in Charlie’s mind, but the corner of her mouth was twitching with amusement at Jon’s man-logic.  Rings signaled ownership in his mind, and apparently the rest of the male world, since he was speaking for them.  It was the same mindset that had cowboys branding cattle back in the Old West, but she couldn’t deny that it was deeply satisfying when someone – valet, waitress, woman on the street – made the connection that Jon was hers. 

She wasn’t going to fault him for his ring ideology, unless… 

“Just to be clear, a ring would be to keep men away from me, not keep me away from men?  Right?”

Confusion took up residence in the deep crease between his eyebrows.  “What the fuck’s the difference?”

“You know about my… flings.”  Indiscretions, affairs, one-night stands.  Whatever.  They were all instances that one could say she was technically unfaithful to her husband.  Was that something Jon actively thought of, or was expecting to happen again? 

“So you’re asking me if I wanna stick a ring on your finger so you don’t cheat on me?” he scoffed.  “No.  That’s what the goddamn bracelet’s for.”

The bracelet that caught the sun’s rays as she lifted her water bottle for another drink.  The very expensive bracelet whose inscription she’d taken as his promise to her, but he was right.  The promise was mutual.   

“Good point.  Wanna go jewelry shopping?”

“Are you shitting me?  You wanna go buy a ring right now?”  He couldn’t have sounded any grouchier if he’d tried, but a smile danced at the edges of his mouth and managed to crinkle the corners of eyes that were still masked by sunglasses.

“I was thinking more of the bracelet I owe you.  Being under house arrest last week kept me from getting out to shop for one.”

“Then I guess we’re going jewelry shopping.”

He shook his head when she offered him the last drink of water, so she finished it off and tossed the bottle in a nearby recycling can. 

“I want to go on the roller coaster first,” she protested when he snagged her hand and tried to guide Charlie away from the ride.  “I think it’s cool that Aerosmith has their own roller coaster.  Are you jealous that Bon Jovi doesn’t have one?”

He spun them in the direction of the entrance with a loud laugh.  “Life with you is roller coaster enough for me.”

Passing by a group of young adults who had just exited the ride, she noted the animation in their faces and remarked, “Think how boring life would be if it was a merry-go-round.  Everybody needs the occasional roller coaster ride to shake things up a little.” 

“Life ain’t a merry-go-round, huh?  That might be the missing piece of the chorus I’ve been looking for.”

“Oh, yeah?”  They stepped up to the end of the short Fast Pass line, where she folded her arms to look up at him.  “What’s the name of the song?”

“’Roller Coaster’.”

“Well, I want a cut of the royalties, then.”

His laughing admission of the song’s title had made Charlie smile, but the laugh died away and his features went dark at the mention of royalties.  When he muttered a quiet swear under his breath, it brought his earlier phone call to mind.

“Who were you cussing on the phone?”

“Record company,” he told her shortly.  “I cut ties with them in July, but they want me back.  I wanna go back, because it’s where I started, but the terms of the contract suck.”

“What sucks about it?  The percentage of royalties?  Publishing rights?  Custody of the masters?”

He removed his sunglasses, allowing her to see eyes that were wide with astonishment.  “Hell, you talk like you know the lingo.”

She did and she didn’t.  Her familiarity with recording contracts was limited to a divorce case she handled.  Charlie had merely been trying to let him knew she understood the terminology if he wanted to talk about it. 

“I did Neil Diamond’s divorce, and his past and present contracts were relevant to the settlement.  I’m no expert, but I understand enough.”

His gaze held surprising admiration as they stepped to the front of the line.  “You mean I’ve got got my own in-house legal counsel?  Literally?”

“That might be a stretch.”

Disregarding her sarcasm, he pushed, “No, seriously.  Would you look at the contract for me?”

“Jon…”  With a slow shake of her head as the gate opened to admit them, Charlie prepared her denial.  He needed someone who did that kind of work on a daily basis, not someone who’d seen a couple of contracts.  “I don’t think it would serve a purpose.”

“It would humor me,” he insisted, helping her into the limousine-styled roller coaster and following to sit beside her.  “It would offer a fresh perspective, anyway.  My guys sure as hell aren’t getting anywhere.”

The chest harnesses dropped down and clicked into place.  She had an adrenaline rush on deck in the form of a roller coaster, followed by a symbolic shackling of her lover.  They could always come back to this later.

“Okay.  Whatever you want.”

And then she was slammed back into the seat as the car shot out of the gate.