Seventy-Three

“Richie?  Can you help me?”

Never in her adult life had Allegra been forced to depend on someone else for basic daily functions, and she hated it.  She was thankful that Richie had been around TO depend on, but being in this helpless position galled her to no end.

“What is it, Sunshine?”  He appeared in the bathroom doorway, straightening his shirt cuffs under the sports jacket he was wearing.

With a scowl, she held up the hairbrush in her left hand.  Brushing her hair wasn’t too much of a problem, but there was no way she could get it up in a ponytail with only one functional arm.  He’d been helping her pull it up every day, even teasing that it was a good thing he’d had training for this all through Ava’s childhood.

Evidently he found her frustration amusing, because he laughed.  “I don’t know why you get so upset over it.  In my book, any reason to put my hands in your hair is a good one.”

“Being helpless sucks,” she said flatly.

“Baby, you’re anything but helpless.  If I weren’t here, you’d figure out something else.”  He pulled her mane of hair through the elastic band, securing it at the crown of her head.  A soft kiss delivered to the back of her exposed neck, and he was finished.  “Why don’t you relax and let me enjoy being useful?”

 “I’m sorry,” she sighed.  “I’m just nervous about this dinner.  Meeting your mother and aunt.  You meeting my parents.”

A very recent change of plans had this event taking place at a restaurant in the city. While he was sending a driver for her, he hadn’t wanted his mother making the journey alone alone.  That had prompted the last minute invitation of her sister-in-law Loretta.  The two women were close and often enjoyed outings together.

Richie slipped his arms around Allegra in an affectionate embrace.  “There’s nothing to be nervous about.  Ma is going to love you, just because I do.  Aunt Loretta is a sweetheart, and I’m not worried about your parents.  I’m a people person, remember?  It will be fine.”

Stepping out of his arms, she cleared her throat uncomfortably, fiddling with the ever present cross at his neck.  “Yeah, well, maybe you SHOULD be worried.”

“And why is that?”

Allegra looked up into his smiling eyes, and knew she couldn’t let him go into this blindly.  He deserved to know what he was walking into.

“Because my mother is already NOT a Richie fan,” she confessed, filling him in on the previously omitted details from her last encounter with Michael and Therese.

“I see,” was the only response he offered when she’d finished.

“We can grab your family and go someplace else for dinner,” she offered hurriedly.  “We’ll just leave my parents there with the others.”

“Allegra, that’s not who I am.  Running from the problem isn’t going to make it go away.  I’ve learned that lesson quite well, thank you.  If I’m going to be a significant part of your life, this has to be done.”  He tugged her close again and grinned devilishly.  “Besides, MOST people like me well enough.  It just takes SOME longer to realize it than others.  But that’s okay, I’m a patient man.” 

“You have the patience of a saint,” she agreed, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.  “And I, for one, am very glad.”

He let loose with a little growl, cautiously reclaiming her mouth once again.  In deference to her split lip, he hadn’t been able to do this the right way in what seemed like forever.  Almost a week later, and it was healing nicely, so he tested the waters, touching his tongue lightly to her lips.

She opened to his simple request with a sigh of contentment.  His taste was absolutely intoxicating, and she’d missed it.  Their tongues rasped lightly against one another as they leisurely rediscovered a favorite familiar pastime.  She lost herself in the warmth and sensuality that he could bring to a simple kiss, forgetting about anything else until he carefully separated their mouths.

Scraping his thumb easily across her bottom lip, he gave her an affectionate grin.  “Patience is well rewarded.”

Allegra gave him the same grin in return.  “Don’t kiss my mother like that, okay?”

Richie threw his head back with a roar of laughter, finally teasing, “If she’s as gorgeous as you, I can’t make any promises.”

♥  ♥  ♥

The whole point of going home had been to stay out of a hotel, yet Jon found himself entering the side door of the Ritz Carlton where they would be dining in a private room at 10 Arts.  Chef Jennifer had very graciously agreed to accommodate the impromptu dinner party Carol Bongiovi had dumped in her lap. 

Jon’s mother had talked to Therese, explaining that he and the other band members were wearing thin as they approached the next tour break.  Jon hadn’t intended any offense, he just wanted to enjoy his family as much as they enjoyed one another.  Or something like that.

His mother had told him how she managed to spin it, but he didn’t really care to remember the details.  He just smiled politely and held the door for his wife and Allegra.  “I hate you for this,” he muttered to Richie under his breath as the followed the women.

Richie, true to form, just laughed.  “It’s one lousy dinner.  You’ll live through, and probably end up enjoying, it.”

With an evil glare, he spitefully informed his friend, “Her mother thinks you’re the devil.  Nobody’s going to enjoy this.”

He just smiled and stepped forward to take his girl’s hand.  “We’ll see.”

Joan Sambora and Loretta Vaiano were already seated in the private dining room that had been set aside for the gathering. 

Richie’s face split to an even bigger smile, and he easily sauntered over to the two older women, Allegra in tow.

“Ma,” he greeted Joan with a hug and kiss on the cheek.  “Your ride was okay?”  Richie turned his attention to Loretta murmuring, “Hello my beautiful aunt.  A pleasure as always.”

“It was fine,” his mother assured him.  “Now introduce us to your date.”

“Ma, Aunt Loretta, this is Allegra Castanelli,” he told them proudly.  “She’s Jon’s cousin, but don’t hold that against her.”

“Shut up Sambora,” came Jon’s response from behind them.  “Your mom loves me more than she does you.  Hi Joan, it’s good to see you,”  he greeted her with genuine smile.  She’d been more than supportive of them during the early years, and he had never forgotten that.  She was good people. 

The rest of the greetings were exchanged just in time for the remaining attendees to join them. 

“Here goes nothing,”  Allegra whispered to Richie, noticing that mother didn’t look unhappy at least.  Uncle John must’ve softened her up on the way over.

“Mama,  Daddy,”  she greeted her parents with a smile, only to watch her mother’s expression turn horrified. 

“Dear God in Heaven, what’s happened to you?” her mother cried, rushing forward to inspect Allegra’s battered face and sling clad arm.

“Frannie, what in the world…?”  Her father’s concern was a little less dramatic, but no less real.

Richie looked at Allegra with a frown.  “You didn’t tell them?  Sunshine, that’s not nice.”

“No it’s not nice!” her mother agreed.  “Tell me.”

Clutching tightly to Richie’s hand, she nodded a greeting to her aunt and uncle who were looking a little flummoxed as well.

Jon was giving her a condemning look as well.  Apparently no one realized that, not only had she not told her family the truth about her injuries, she hadn’t mentioned them at all.   

“Oh, it’s nothing,”  she tried to laugh it off.  “I just took a tumble down a staircase.  The doctor says I’ll be fine in another week.”

“You’re not a clumsy girl.  You don’t just tumble down a staircase.  What happened?  Were you pushed?”  Therese eyed Richie accusingly.

“Mama!  No, I wasn’t pushed!   There was a puddle of something that I didn’t see until too late.  I slipped in it, and they were concrete stairs.  It looks worse than it really is.”

There were a lot of different looks being shot around the room.  Carol was glaring at Jon because he hadn’t told her, Jon was glaring at Allegra because she hadn’t told anyone, Therese was glaring at Richie for whatever reason, and Dorothea was shaking her head in disbelief.  Poor Joan and Loretta just sat back and watched the drama unfold before them. 

John, Senior took charge of the situation, saying, “Okay, why don’t we just all have a seat and order something to drink?  Then we can do proper introductions, and Allegra can fill in a few more details for us.”

Smiling at him gratefully, Allegra moved toward the nearest available chair at the large oval table.  Richie sat between her and his mother, with Michael on the other side of Allegra next to Therese.  John, Carol, Jon, Dorothea and Loretta rounded out the seating arrangement.

As though on command, two waiters appeared and promptly took their drink orders.  That accomplished, John again took control, making introductions where necessary.  “Michael and Therese, this is Richie Sambora, his mother Joan and aunt Loretta.  Sambora family, these are Allegra’s parents, Michael and Therese Castanelli.”

There were general nods and greetings across the table, but Richie made a point of standing to shake the Castanelli’s hands.  “I’ve been anxious to meet you and tell you what an amazing woman your daughter is.”

Therese sniffed quietly and rolled her eyes, but Michael nodded his head in appreciation.  “It’s nice to finally meet you as well.”

“Allegra, why don’t you tell us more about your fall?”  Carol asked, sneaking another glare at her son.

“Where are those drinks?”  Jon muttered to Dorothea, who just kicked his foot under the table.

“There’s really nothing else to tell, Aunt Carol.  I slipped and fell down a flight of stairs.  A couple of bruised ribs, sprained shoulder and a slight concussion.  The doctors say I should be good as new in another week.”

“Where were you when it happened dear?”  Joan asked kindly.

Smiling at Richie’s mother, she told her, “I was coming from a meeting in Detroit.  It was getting late, and the elevator was temporarily on the fritz.  I was trying to get to the arena for the show and was in a hurry.  I just wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If you’d been at the cloister, it wouldn’t have happened,” Therese muttered.

“Mother, please don’t.”

Silence blanketed the room in the wake of their exchange until Allegra turned to Joan with another smile, and asked if she would be attending Richie’s show the following night.  The others began chit chatting among themselves, trying to remain on neutral topics of conversation.  Drinks were delivered, and dinner orders taken without incident.

“Allegra, Richie tells me that you’re working for the Soul Foundation?” Joan inquired politely.

“Yes, I am and love it.  It’s such a good organization to be affiliated with.  Jon’s done an incredible thing there.”

“Jon’s a good boy,” she agreed.  “He and Richie have done well for themselves, and I’m quite proud of them.”

During that conversation, Richie was chatting with Michael.

“So, Richie, Allegra tells me that you’re in Philly for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Two shows and we’re off to Uncasville for two more at the end of the week.  Then a break for Easter.”

“She also tells me that you don’t love her,” Michael stated quietly.

Meeting the father’s eyes dead-on, he admitted, “Honestly, I WAS hesitant to say the words at first.  She doesn’t deserve anything less than a full-fledged commitment, and I wanted to make sure I could give it to her.”  He smiled as he caught Allegra looking sharply at him.  “She’s got both my heart and my love, for whatever it’s worth.” 

Therese heard the tail end of his explanation, and rolled her eyes.  Richie wasn’t a child and he didn’t feel like playing childish games. 

“I understand from Allegra that you don’t like me,” he stated bluntly.

The fact that he would speak to her that boldly, put a look of shock on Therese’s face.   “Allegra has no business saying such things,” she informed him loftily.

“Why not, if they’re the truth?”

“Because…  Well, it’s just not appropriate.”

“And it’s more appropriate to sit and glare daggers at me without saying a word?”  His voice never rose above that of casual conversation.  Richie just seemed genuinely interested in what her answer would be.

The waiters arrived at that moment with the entrees, interrupting anything that Therese may have said.    Joan pulled on Richie’s sleeve, so that she could speak in his ear. 

“Mrs. Castanelli, my mother told me that I was just rude and disrespectful, and I’d like to apologize.  My intent wasn’t to be rude, but to find out exactly what I’ve done to earn your obvious dislike.”

“I hardly think that this is the place to discuss it!”

“Why is that?  We’re among family.  If what you have to say has any merit, my mother and aunt will be the first to agree with you.”

“Richie, stop,”  Allegra whispered.

He squeezed her hand, but never took his eyes from Therese.  “It’s okay, Sunshine.  Your mother and I need to work this out.  Mrs. Castanelli?”

Therese’s lips were pursed and she picked at her entrée viciously with a fork before letting it clatter to the table.  “She should be serving God, not some rock star who thinks he’s God!” she finally blurted.

“Therese…” Michael warned as Allegra groaned, dropping her face into her hand.  Everyone else around the table watched covertly, pretending to be engrossed in their dinners while sitting tensely on the edges of their seats.

“No,” Richie held up his hand to silence Allegra’s father.  “Let her say her piece.  Go ahead Mrs. Castanelli.”

“You don’t show the proper respect to anyone or anything, young man.  Just because you wear a cross around your neck, doesn’t mean you fear God.  You obviously deserted your wife and child, drowning yourself in a bottle instead.  My daughter deserves better than that, and if you hadn’t come along to turn her head, she’d be taking her solemn vows as a nun by now!”

“Wow.”  Richie’s voice was quiet and he nodded his head slowly up and down, taking in the vicious words that had been hurled his way.  “There are so many things wrong with that, I couldn’t begin to cover it all.” 

“Son, you don’t have to say anything,” Michael began.

“No, I think I do, because this isn’t going to happen again.  It’s ugly and uncomfortable right now, but it’ll be finished tonight.”  He pushed his plate back, leaning forward on his elbows to stare Therese Castanelli directly in the eyes.  If she’d had any idea how unusual the lack of emotion reflected in HIS eyes was, she would be afraid.

“Mrs. Castanelli, I’ve known the Bongiovis for a good number of years, and they’ve treated me like another son.  If you knew nothing else of me, I would think you’d respect the opinion of your family.  But, in the end, it doesn’t matter whether you like me or not.  I didn’t know you before tonight, and if you prefer it that way, I don’t ever have to see you again.  What I DO find unfortunate is your lack of respect for your daughter.  What’s done is done.  She’s made her decision.  Now you can live with it and love her like a mother should, or you can remain politely quiet.  Anything else I’m not going to tolerate, because she does deserve better.  Better from YOU.”