Chapter Eleven

A Little Yellow House in Redbank

The full moon illuminated her face as she sat in the window seat, half empty wine glass in her hand.  She had been staring up at the stars wondering if he was doing the same.  Way too many years had passed by without hearing a peep from him, then out of nowhere he knocked on her door and his kids adorably shouted, “Trick or treat.”  Those adorably precocious boys that looked so much like their father.  Seeing little miniature versions of Jon that he was raising while he’d left her to find her own way with their son had cut her like a knife.  Those boys that he’d had with another woman.  That was what hurt the most.  

Then, he’d shown up at her bar.

And, he’d been angry.

Where the hell did he get off?  If anyone had the right to be pissed off in this scenario it was her.  He’d abandoned her while she was pregnant with his son.  

His son.

Frankie had told her that Jon had shown up at one of his performances.  Her son had described in detail their encounter.  He wasn’t happy about meeting his “sperm donor”.  That’s what her son insisted on calling his biological father.  She’d had a relatively happy life with Joey.  It wasn’t the fiery passion that she’d experienced with Jon, but it was comfortable and stable.  The difference between a bright comet that blazed across the sky, disappearing way too soon and looking up at the face of the full moon that stayed steady and true.  Frankie worshipped Joey.

There had been a lot of things lacking in her marriage, but honesty had never been one of them.  Joey knew all about her relationship with Jon.  She’d felt like it was his right to know, given that he was going to be raising the other man’s son.  Last year, after a long battle with cancer, Joey had left them.  Late one night, while she’d been sitting by his hospital bed, he’d told her what he wanted most for Frankie and for her once he was gone.

Joey had insisted that he wanted Frankie to meet and get to know his biological father.  Her husband had actually met Jon several years ago.  Of course, Jon didn’t know who the other man was, but that wasn’t what was important.  Joey had always been curious about the kind of person the musician was.  How the man could just walk away from a woman like Kimber and their unborn child.  Her husband had confessed all of this to her that night in his hospital room.  He’d met Jon at a charity function.  Joey had done some internet research on the other man.  Her husband had told her that he honestly believed that Jon was a good person.  He’d insisted that something had to have gone wrong all those years ago; he didn’t believe that Jon had abandoned her and Frankie.

She’d scoffed at the time, sure her husband was a fool.  But now?  Thinking about the look on Jon’s face, the hurt hidden behind the anger?  Yeah, maybe there was something to Joey’s theory.  But she’d be damned if she was going to be the one to ask the questions, or provide answers for that matter.

She took another sip of her wine.  How could the wounds still hurt so damn bad?  It had been years.  Why hadn’t the cuts on her still bandaged heart healed by now?

Here in the dark, with the moon her only witness, she could admit to the hours spent on youtube watching concert footage and interviews.  Over the years, she’d watched as he aged more gracefully than any man should ever be allowed to do.  He still had the finest ass in all of creation.  She’d wished for a potbelly and a receding hairline, but Fate was not her friend.  Apparently.

When he’d stormed in her office that night, there had been pain in those beautiful blue eyes.  Hurt had laced his words when he’d asked about her getting the Cochlear implant.  She knew why.  He wanted to know why she’d done it, when she hadn’t been willing to get it for him.  She’d had the surgery years ago, so that she could hear Frankie play guitar and sing.  She’d been so very proud of her son.  Still was.  So, she knew exactly what had prodded Jon into introducing himself to Frankie.  If she’d been in his shoes, she’d have done the same thing.

Frankie was not happy.  He’d inherited his father’s temper right along with his glacial blue eyes.  She had asked her son to give Jon a chance, to maybe meet him for coffee and hear him out.  She’d tried to do what Joey had asked of her with his dying breath.  But, Frankie wasn’t having it.  Kimber understood; he thought it would be disloyal to Joey to have any kind of a relationship with Jon.

Because, she felt disloyal too.

Chapter Ten

The BJM office was buzzing with activity when he breezed in the door.  Flashing a smile and nodding at the receptionist as he passed her desk, Jon hurried toward his office.  If he was lucky, Cheryl wouldn’t be at her desk.  On paper, he was the boss, but Cheryl really ran things.  She kept all his many calendars collated and organized.  She made sure that he was at an appearance on time, smiled for the camera, and still made it to his kid’s play.  He’d never seen anyone as organized as the little brunette.  She made his life a hell of a lot easier and made him look good.  But, she ruled with an iron hand.

 Cheryl terrified him.

 The grin of relief at not seeing his assistant at her desk had barely started to form when her voice sliced through the air from somewhere over his left shoulder.

 “Good morning, JB.”

 How could a simple good morning sound like a death knell to his entire day?

 “G’morning, Cheryl.”  Cheer was forced, as he reached to open the door to his office.

 Tinkling laughter followed his words.  How could such a dragon sound like such a sweet fairy?  At five foot nothing in heels and probably not even a hundred pounds soaking wet, Cheryl was just a little slip of a woman, but she was a force to be reckoned with.  A fleeting grimace and the barest of winces were quickly shuffled behind the door of his work facade, the deadbolt thrown for good measure, before he turned back to face her.  “What’s worthy of a dragon lady giggle, this morning?”

 “Your tone of voice with that ‘g’morning’ was most definitely worthy of a giggle,” she said with a grin.  “The tone most certainly did not match the sentiment.  So what the fuck has your balls in a bunch this morning?”

 The slightest bit of a southern drawl still lingered in her voice even after twenty years in The Big Apple, but her way with words and the occasional Deep South turn of phrase would never leave her.  You can take the girl out of the South …

 He shrugged.  Honesty was always the best policy.  “I was trying to dodge you today.”

 “Busted,” she said with a tinkling laugh.  She didn’t have to ask why he was dodging her.  “So, you wanted to play hooky today, and thought I’d throw something from your calendar atcha?”

 “Yeah, sorta,” he groaned.

 “Jon, you do realize you’re the boss here, right?”

 “That’s a fucking lie,” he said with a smile that made his blue eyes sparkle.

 She didn’t even blink.  “If you were trying to dodge me, why the hell did you come into the office today?”

 “I needed to pick up something.”  He’d made it to his desk at this point and was scanning it’s dark surface for the ‘something’ in question.

 “You mean the letter Mr. Scuzbucket dropped off?” she said, fanning herself with an envelope slowly back and forth like she was standing on a porch in Atlanta on the hottest day in August.

 Scuzbucket?  A genuine smile stretched his lips, even Cheryl who had never met Doc before now had him pegged.  To paraphrase A Knight’s Tale, in Cheryl’s eyes Doc had been weighed, he had been measured, and he had been found wanting.  “Thank you, Cheryl,” he said softly as he reached for the envelope in her hand.

 “As always, I’m just here to serve,” the small woman said as she handed over the letter.

 When she turned to leave his office, he grinned and tossed out, “And to catch a glimpse of my ass.”

 Her tinkling laughter floated back to him.  “Well, it is an exceptional ass.” 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

 Jonny,

 I’ve been a complete idiot.  I was wrong …. And I love you too.  I’m sorry for being such a bitch, and I’m not even saying that because I’m now in need of ‘rescuing’.  There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just spit it out.  Jon, I’m pregnant.  I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.  I’ve been working on a cruise ship.  I’ll be home for two weeks, then be shipping out for six more, but then I’ll be back home again.  Come see me, please.  I’m forever yours.

 I’ll understand if I don’t hear from you.  I’ll take that as a hint that you’ve gone on with your life and have no desire to see me or your child.

 But, know that I do still love you,
Kimber.

 The words on the paper had blurred as the memories of them together had clouded his mind.  The years they’d lost mocked him now as he sat in the dark of his apartment, a half empty wine glass in his hand.  If he’d seen this letter all those years ago, what would their life look like today?  He hadn’t been able to let go of the piece of paper since Cheryl had handed it to him earlier.  It had been crumbled in hands that were at first angry, then it had been smoothed out again on his desk by loving hands that cherished her words.  “I’m forever yours.”  There were some spots that had since dried, but tears at what could have been had splashed down on her words at some point during the day.

 How many times had he read it?

 He couldn’t say.  Hell, he couldn’t even be angry at Doc.  This was really nobody’s fault, except perhaps his pride.

 Pride had kept him from going back to that apartment.  Pride had kept him from looking for her.  Pride had cost him more than he could even begin to comprehend.

 But, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t get it all back.

Somehow.