Sunday Mornings

Jon

Jon

Jon blinked at the beeping receiver in his hand, sighing as he placed it back in its cradle. He was still feeling drained from the bone-melting orgasm that had screamed through him. He lay back into the pillows, his arm draped over his eyes, being careful not to get his sticky fingers in his hair.

The last few months had been hard. HeyMan! had put Richie out on the road to promote his CD almost as soon as it was released and while Jon was crazy proud of him, he was missing him...badly.

Their apartment above Rosie's was too quiet and their bed too cold and lonely.

He felt a tear escape his closed eyes and swore out loud. It didn't help that David was out there with him also, after getting an emergency call for help.

He had the bar and the music store to keep him occupied and the families made sure he was being fed with Joan insisting on dinner with them at least once a week, but it still didn't quell the ache for Richie.

With a groan, he hauled himself out of bed to clean up and get a glass of Jack to try and settle himself back to sleep before his alarm went off in a couple of hours. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep after an episode of tossing and turning and finding one of Richie's T-shirts to wear.

Later that morning he arrived at work, bleary-eyed and moody. He tried not to snap at his staff or customers but it took all his willpower to do so, the muscles in his jaw popping with frustration.

Eddie arrived after lunch on one of his regular visits to find Jon in the office, hunched over the desk and staring blankly at some paperwork.

"Well don't you look like a cheery one today," Eddie commented, "Have you been wearing that face all day?"

"It's the only one I have," Jon said sarcastically, "so yeah."

Eddie stopped dead at the level of snark in Jon's voice. "I guess I walked into that one," he said almost to himself, "I haven't seen you this bad since the hearing. What's going on, Jon?"

"Fuck...I'm sorry, Eddie," Jon sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face, "Richie called this morning when they reached LA. I guess I didn't sleep that well after that."

"You miss him, don't you?" Eddie nodded, "Amber is the same but your nephew is keeping her busy."

"What do you expect," Jon smirked, "when you know who Colton's dad is."

Eddie chuckled and with a shake of his head said, "Even as a boy, David could not sit still to save himself. We honestly don't know how he got through school." He sat himself down at his desk and faced Jon, "Take the rest of the week off and go out to him."

"What?!" Jon exclaimed, "But what about the store and...and the bar?"

"Son, you've got this place running like a well-oiled machine," Eddie said, "Smoother than what I ever could. I don't think I can mess that up in a week, do you? Same goes with the bar. Amy can look after it and you can always call every night to check-in."

"So...surprise him?"

"Sure! Why not?" Eddie shrugged, "You know Richie only has two weeks left, tops, then he's back here."

Jon could feel the smile spread slowly over his face as he could see the advantages to Eddie's suggestions.

The duty manager at Rosie's was more than capable of looking after things and Eddie worked the shop here, Jon couldn't think of a reason not to take a trip out west and surprise Richie.

"Are you sure?" Jon asked Eddie again.

"No," Eddie said, shuffling around some paperwork in front of him, "Actually, I've changed my mind."

Jon, shocked, skewered him with a disappointed look. Eddie seemed to sit there calmly as he left him hanging in suspense for a few agonising moments.

"Fly out there and come home with him on the bus. Send David home on the plane to get him out of your hair. I won't tell Amber he's coming home early, so she and Colton will get a surprise."

Jon grinned and let out a whoop of happiness. "Damn it, you had me convinced you were changing your mind, old man," Jon said fondly with a shake of his head.

"Good. It's set then," Eddie nodded and brushed his hands together, "Now get outta here."

Jon jumped up and grabbed his jacket, making sure his keys and wallet were in there before he opened the office door. He stopped suddenly and double-backed to throw an arm around Eddie from behind and drop a quick kiss to his cheek, "Love you, old man," he said fondly and raced out the door.

He gave some quick instructions to the staff, apologising for his mood today and told them that Eddie was in charge till he got back. He pushed open the shop door and took a deep breath, feeling happier than what he had earlier that morning.

He pushed through the mid-afternoon pedestrian traffic as he headed for home, stopping at the first travel agent to book the earliest and cheapest flight to LA. It was going to be red-eye getting in around 9 am and then he had to find a way to the hotel on their itinerary.

An hour or so later, Jon let himself into the front door; to the left, at the base of the stairs leading to their apartment, was the connecting door to Rosie's which was standing open at the moment. The staff used the accommodation entrance as an alternative entrance during the day before opening hours.

Jon stuck his head in and looked around. Spying Amy behind the bar cutting up the garnishes for tonight, Jon stepped in and called out to their most senior duty manager, "Amy! Just the person I need to speak to. How are you, darlin'?"

"I'm good, Jon!" she replied with a warm smile, "What's up?"

"Can you, Jack and Megan look after Rosie's for a week or so?" he asked, "I'm flying out tonight to surprise Richie and I'll come back on the bus with him."

"Oh, he'll love that! Sure thing, I'll ring the others when I've done this," the older woman said, "Oh! Speaking of phone calls. Richie's mom called earlier, looking for a number to contact Simon on. I wasn't sure if I could hand his number out, so I said I'd get you to call her."

"Mrs S rang here?" Jon asked curiously, "Did she say what she wanted?"

Amy shook her head and shrugged, "No, but she sounded a little subdued or something. Not her usual self."

"Huh...that's okay, I'll give her a call now," Jon said and kissed her cheek. "If you get stuck while I'm away, call Eddie first before you call Alec."

"If I don't see you before you go," Amy said as Jon started back toward the door, "have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Jon grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her and said, "Oh I'll do that and a whole lot more."

Amy's dirty chuckle followed him out the door and up the stairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, unlocked their door and threw his jacket on the sofa. He grabbed a can of coke from the fridge before heading into the bedroom to pack; just a pair of jeans and a couple of T-shirts. If he needed anything better than that he'd wear something of Richie's.

Jon gathered the necessities from the bathroom, slipped his Walkman and some cassettes, including Richie's, on the top and finally closed the carry-all and checked his watch. He still had a few hours to kill before getting to the airport.

With a sigh, he flopped on the couch and reached for his guitar. He started plucking out some tunes, fiddling with some lyrics when he remembered he had to call Mrs Sambora back.

Lighting a cigarette, his guitar lying beside him on the couch, he snagged the phone from the coffee table and rested it on his lap. He dialled the numbers and inhaled on his smoke as the call connected.

"Hello?"

"Mrs S, hi, it's Jon," he said into the mouthpiece, "Amy said you rang earlier."

Amy was right. Even in that one word, Jon could tell something was wrong.

"Oh, Jon!" Joan said, "Thank you for calling back. How are you, dear? Did you have a good day?"

"Fine thanks and yes, it's turned out to be a better day than earlier," Jon grinned at the turn of events, "How are you?"

Ignoring Jon's question, Mrs Sambora continued, "I...we need to contact Richard. Do you have a number I could reach him at?"

She sounded sad and a little jittery. Jon frowned, concerned. Richie had inherited his love of life and happy demeanour from his mother, Jon had come to learn, so it was easy to tell when something wasn't right with them both.

"Is there anything I can do? I'm actually flying out there in a couple of hours," Jon said taking another deep drag on his cigarette. Something was up, he could feel it, but couldn't put his finger on it, "I can pass on the message for you."

Jon listened to the noise of her moving the phone away and maybe a hand covering the mouthpiece slightly.

"Adam," Joan's muffled voice came through, "Jon is flying out. Maybe it would be best to wait for him to be there for Richard. What do you think?"

Adam's voice carried but Jon couldn't understand what the actual words being said were. He'd grown fond of them over the past few years since Richie's assault. He'd gone from having nothing and no one of value in his life to being surrounded by loving families that had accepted him within their folds.

"Jon...do you have time to come over before you go, sweetheart?" Joan asked, sadness clearly evident in her voice, "I'll make you some dinner before you leave."

"Mrs S...is- is everything okay?" Jon asked. He had an ominous feeling squirming in his gut.

"Oh Jon...," Joan murmured, "Just come over. We'll explain more then." The line went dead.

For the second time that day Jon was left with a beeping receiver in his hand, staring impotently at it.

Stubbing out his cigarette with a little more force than was needed, he quickly tidied the apartment and checked his carry-all again. Making sure he had his ID to pick up his ticket at the airport, he locked up and checked in again with Amy before heading to his car. He threw his luggage on the front seat and settled himself in for the drive to the Sambora's.

About half an hour later Jon was pulling up in front of the small house. He opened the car door and stood beside the open door, looking up at the house as though he would be able to discern what was about to happen just by the exterior. He grabbed his bag and slammed the door closed, locking it behind him, and trudged up the path to the front door.

It still felt weird coming here without Richie but Adam and Joan had made sure he had been included in everything since Richie was released from the hospital. He pressed the doorbell and waited. There was no way he'd ever just let himself in without Richie with him; he still had the visceral fear of parental figures where things like taking liberties were concerned, in case he did something wrong and had to pay the punishment.

A moment later Joan opened the door to him.

"Jon, sweetheart, come on in," she greeted him with a warm hug.

Jon dropped his bag just inside the door and shrugged out of his jacket.

"Something smells good in here, Mrs S."

"Just a simple minestrone tonight."

"Where's Mr S?"

Jon knew he hadn't been well in the last months, with a nagging cough that had left him breathless. Richie questioned Jon relentlessly about it in their phones calls when Adam first came down with the flu.

"He's upstairs...sleeping. I'll go let him know you're here," she said, "There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen if you'd like some."

"Let him sleep," Jon said.

Joan shook her head, "No, Jon. He wants to see you. I'll be right back."

She headed up the stairs as Jon, curious as to why Adam would insist on seeing him, wandered into the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee and poked around, peeking into saucepans on the stove, appreciating the aroma of what was on offer for dinner.

He was trying to remember when he was last here; maybe two weeks ago, he thought to himself, or was it three? He'd been busy with both the store and the bar just trying to make it through the days without Richie, falling into bed exhausted at the end of the day. Flo was harder to brush off with the excuse of being busy but he always made sure he called the Samboras a couple of times a week or Joan would call him to check-in.

Jon heard movement on the stairs and then Adam's wracking cough. Walking back into the living room, Jon gasped in shock at Adam's appearance. He was gaunt and pale, the skin of his face was sunken and drawn, making his face look skeletal, as he leaned on Joan heavily as he came down the stairs. Jon set his mug down on the closest surface and ran to help Richie's father.

"What the hell?" Jon exclaimed as he settled Adam in his usual chair. Joan got a footstool and tucked a rug around her husband.

"What's going on, Mr S?" he asked as he looked between them both and crouched on the floor at the older man's feet.

From behind Adam's seat, Joan pulled a small oxygen tank and slipped the mask over Adam's face.

"Do you need anything, dear?" Joan asked her husband who shook his head in the negative. She fussed around for a moment before taking her seat, avoiding Jon's question.

Jon scrubbed his hand over his face, mentally kicking himself for not coming out here sooner. Frustrated and confused, he sprang to his feet and started pacing in the small space as questions barrel-rolled through his head. This was not the flu, Jon was sure of that much even without being told.

"This...this is what you want to tell Richie about?" Jon asked angrily, an ugly, cold dread seeped into his bones. "This isn't just the flu, is it?"

Adam removed the oxygen mask and motioned for Jon to come closer, "Jon...son...come sit over here."

Jon's chest was tight and tears were prickling behind his eyes as he took in the seriousness of the elder Samboras. He dragged his hands through his hair with a small anguished cry, hoping the pain would distract him a little, but did as he was asked, taking his position again at Adam's feet.

"It's not the flu," Adam said hoarsely, "It hasn't been for a while now. I have cancer, Jon, and... we need you to be there for Richard when we tell him."

Jon shook his head in denial as a tear tracked down his face.

"Why not wait until he gets home?" Jon asked desperately but he had a feeling he already knew the answer, "We... we can come home early. Then...then you can spend some time together. I'm- I'm sure that would be-."

"I don't have that long, Jon," Adam said as Joan started to quietly weep. "Shh Joanie...it's okay." He took his wife's hand and kissed her fingers.

"But...but what about treatments? I'm sure there's-," Jon grasped at straws.

"It's too far gone now, Jon," he said returning his gaze to Jon, "I- I want Richard to remember me in happier, healthier times."

"We are so grateful to you for bringing us to our senses and healing the rift in our family," Joan said as Adam put the oxygen mask back on. "We know that you'll look after Richie and be there for him when he hears." She smiled down at Jon and cupped his cheek lovingly.

"But...what...no...," Jon said, shaking his head, barely able to comprehend what was being relayed to him.

"Jon...," Joan said, holding Jon's face, "I need you to look after him; his heart. For Adam...and for me."

Jon held her beseeching look and nodded, "Of course. He's not going to come out unscathed but I'll be there to put him back together."

"That's all we can ask of you, Jon," Adam said, his eyes drooping, "Joanie...go feed our boy now. I think I'll just sit here and nap for a while."

"You should go up to bed, dear," she replied.

"Not yet," he said and closed his eyes.

Joan presses her fingers over her lips for a moment and closed her eyes, then with a sad sigh, rose from her chair and indicated for Jon to follow her to the kitchen.

She was dishing up a bowl of steaming soup when Jon came in. Joan set the dish on the table and said, "Sit, dear, and eat. I'll pour you another coffee, shall I?"

"You're not joining me?"

She shook her head as she poured Jon a fresh coffee. "No, I'll wait for when Adam wakes and make sure he gets some nourishment," she said, placing the cup in front of Jon and sitting beside him. "Eat. You're going to need all the sustenance you can get too."

"Can I be honest with you?" Jon asked as he toyed with the food in front of him.

"Of course, Jon," Joan said, sipping on her own coffee, "Haven't you always?"

He flashed her a quick look then said, "I think holding something like this back from Richie sucks. It's gonna kill him, you realise that, don't you? How long have you known?" He dropped the spoon against the dish and pinned the small woman with his glare.

"We've known for about six months now-."

"What the hell, Mrs S?! Why the f-," he let out a frustrated breath, "...hell didn't you say something sooner so that Richie could be prepared," Jon exclaimed in an angry whisper.

He was pissed beyond words and couldn't hold back any longer. It truly baffled him that they'd known this long and hadn't said a word to anyone.

"Because that's the way Adam wanted to handle it," she snapped back at him, tapping her finger on the tabletop for emphasis. "I'm about to lose my husband and my child's father, Jon. Do not question a dying man's decision."

"Richard had his album release and tour coming up...Adam didn't want him to throw it all away to play nursemaid. He wants Richard to have something...more...in his life than what he had."

"He's so proud of Richard, Jon, as am I. So please, just let him do it this way."

They glared at each other for a long moment.

Jon sighed, dropping his head to his hands, "I'm sorry, Mrs S...for being such a selfish fuck. I didn't think about it from your side."

His voice hitched with emotion as he spoke, "But just imagining losing Richie like you're about to lose Mr S...is killing me. I d-don't know how you're doing it."

"I've...I've never had to go through a loved one's loss before. Fuck...I've never had people I've cared about this much before."

"Your love for Richard is the sole reason we're entrusting you with this," Joan said fondly as she rubbed a soothing hand over Jon's back as he cried into his hands. He turned in his seat and into her motherly embrace.

After a short while, Jon's tears dried and he swiped the back of his hand under his nose. "I'm sorry...for crying all over you," Jon mumbled, a little embarrassed at his breakdown.

"What's a few tears between family, huh?" she replied with a small smile, "Now, eat! Your soup will be cold. I'm just going to check on Adam." She rose and kissed Jon on the top of his head as he'd seen her do countless times over the past few years with Richie.

Jon finished his meal and rinsed his bowl, stacking it into the dishwasher before going back into the living room. Joan was sitting with Adam, who was awake for the moment, talking quietly together.

Jon hated to interrupt but he'd have to make a move toward the airport soon. He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat before entering, giving the older couple some warning that he was there.

"Umm...I'm going to have to get going soon if I'm going to catch the train to the airport," Jon said as he made his way into the living room to sit on the edge of the couch, "So...how do you want to do this? How much do you want me to tell Richie?"

Adam dragged the mask from his face and took a sip of water before answering, "We'll phone the hotel the day after tomorrow. That will give you both some time together. Create some happy memories for him, son, before I pull the rug out from under him."

Jon nodded and sighed, staring at the carpet as he thought about how he was going to get through the next day.

"Give him the letter, Joanie," Adam said to his wife.

Joan rose and plucked an envelope from the mantle and crossed the room to hand it to Jon. "It's for Richard from Adam. Don't let him read it until we've spoken to him."

"Okay."

"On that note," Adam said, "I think I'll retire upstairs for a while." He struggled to push himself from the chair as Joan moved to his side for support.

"Here...let me," Jon said and handed the envelope back to Joan as he slipped Adam's arm around his shoulder and helped him up the stairs. Adam's once sturdy frame was reduced to wasted muscles with no strength left in them. Jon could have lifted him into his arms and carried him up but gave him a little dignity by allowing him to walk assisted instead.

Once inside the master bedroom Jon helped Adam onto the bed, fluffing the pillows behind him and handing him the oxygen mask from the canister beside the bed.

"Thank you, son," Adam said wearily and indicated for Jon to sit for a moment, "You're a fine young man, Jon. You've been a blessing to this family, I hope you know that?"

"Thank you, Mr S," Jon said and clasped Adam's hand, "Thank you for seeing Richie for the man he is and allowing him back home. I know that meant the world to him. I promise I'll be there for him."

"Don't let him throw his music away because of me either."

Jon nodded in agreement.

"My only regret will be not seeing you both grow old together," Adam said, closing his eyes as a tear escaped the corner, "I guess I'll be watching from wherever I end up. I'm so tired now. Safe travels, Jon. I won't say have a good time because, well...". Adam fell silent and eventually into sleep.

Jon gently lowered the mask over Adam's face and pulled the comforter over his legs before leaving the room. He trudged wearily down the stairs, scrubbing his hand over his face.

Joan met him at the bottom. "I've called you a cab, sweetheart, to get you to the train station on time. Leave your car and keys here and I'll make sure it's looked after."

"Thanks, Mrs S," Jon said and gave her a hug, "for everything. You go on up, I'll lock up when the cab is here."

Joan smiled with a nod and said, "Goodbye, Jon,", handing the envelope back to Jon who tucked it into the side pocket of his carry-all. He watched her walk up the stairs as he hauled his jacket back on, left his keys at the front door and picked up his bag.

He needed a cigarette desperately, so headed out to the small porch at the front, pulled the door firmly behind him to make sure it locked.

As he lit a smoke, it was as though Mother Nature was mourning too, as a light rain fell into the night. He was taking his last drag as the cab arrived. Extinguishing the cigarette against the concrete pathway, he flicked the stub away and jogged to the cab and threw his bag and himself into the back seat.

"Train station, thanks," Jon said without being asked and the cab pulled away from the curb and into the night. He had the feeling that it was going to be a long night.