Chapter 144 - The Smoke's The Ghost, That Keeps You Close

As soon as she hears his voice, she can't help but cry.  

It's been weeks since they've talked and even though she could hear that he is strained, that he was tired she can also hear the anger in his words.  

She can hear that he's heart deep into the words that he's saying.  Even the words are making her cry.  She plays it through and then takes the ear phones off and tosses the whole unit on the bed.  

The tears still run down her cheeks and she can't figure out what she's really feeling.  Without giving it much thought, she heads toward the mini bar and takes out the bottle of Vodka that was calling her name. 

She's not a big drinker, never has been but for some reason, she needed a drink.  Something to slow her down and calm her nerves.  She's been known to act on impulse and she can't let that happen.  

She twists off the top of the vodka bottle as she sits back on the bed.  She picks up the cassette tape case and inspects it again.  On the liner note she sees in Jon's handwriting, very small on the bottom, "I couldn't be the one."  She drops it and starts to sob uncontrollably.  After a few moments of that, after catching her breath, she takes a big gulp of the vodka and listens to the song again.  This time, she talks to the song as he sings  it.  Her attitude is raw and her emotions are real.  

"You didn't try to make me happy.  If you did, you wouldn't have cheated on me."

"God knows you didn't you didn't try Jon."

"You didn't give me what you wanted and I guess God couldn't give me what I need.  I need a faithful husband that doesn't try to turn it around and make it my fault."

"I guess I did want more from you than you could ever be."

"I wanted your heart and soul - I guess I didn't know."

"The wind didn't take you away from me - YOU DID" she screams at the tops of her lungs.

"Cold is the night without my love?  You should have thought about that."

"I do need someone to hold me, even more so now that you're a dirt-bag."  Another long drink of the vodka, as she listens to some more of the song that he sent her, cowardly.  And that angers her even more.

"I don't need someone to be here night and day, I just needed you to love me enough to be faithful, to be loyal.  Kiss my fears away?  Are you fucking kidding me Jon, you made my worst fear a reality."

"You're great at pretending.  You are definitely too weak and proud?  Whatever!"  another gulp of the finest vodka she's had in a long time, the burning in her throat reminds her that she's upset.  She wipes alligator tears from her eyes and continues to listen.  She continues to talk to Jon.

"You couldn't make my dreams come true?  You were my dream Jon and we were well on our way to achieving OUR dreams.  Not just your and not just mine.  We were unstoppable."  Chug a lug.

"RUN?" she's livid.  "You didn't run, I left you!!"

The next chorus she just listened to.  She can hear the lyrics now after she's chilled a little, she can hear what he's saying, to her heart.  Her interpretation of the last chorus tells her, to her heart that maybe she is better off without him and that she should find a man that wouldn't rip her heart out and tear her world apart.  

Her sobbing starts again and she slowly stumbles into an anxiety attack.  She's reminding herself that she's thousands of miles away from him, at the very least.  She knows they had been writing and there are times when they go away, into seclusion when they do that.  He could be anywhere.  

She wants to talk to him, about the song, about Erica, about Rick - about any thing and everything that has happened since she found out about his one night stand.

She sits quietly for a few moments running thoughts through her head.  She knows that she has to do something, she needs him to know that she's heard the song.  She needs to talk to him.

She looks at her watch.  As if her life depended on it, she snatched the phone off the bedside table and called home.  After several rings, no answer.  She then dials Richie's number, again no answer.  That kind of concerns her.  Another shot of liquid balls and she dials the Bongiovi house.  This time it rang 4 times before Monica heard Carol say, "Hello?"

"Ma, it's Monica."  Carol has to hear her fake smile.

"Oh my goodness Monica, how are you dear?  Where are you?  Are you okay?" Carol fires one question after the other.

Monica gives her a friendly chuckle, "I'm in Miami and I'm fine.  Is Jon there, Ma?  I really need to talk to him."

Carol's smile fades, "No dear, they're all up in Vancouver putting the finishing touches on the next record."

"All of them?  The record, they're done??"

"Yeah.  That Doc guy thought they all could use some time away to get it done.  Very little distractions."

"Oh God, are they with Doc?" she asked, already knowing the answer.  

Carol could hear Monica's fake smile fall, "They're at a studio called Little Mountain Sound.  Jon left me the number, do you want it dear?"

Monica hesitates, but her heart says, "Yes.  I really need to talk to Jon.  How is he doing?"

"He's okay.  He misses you madly, Monica.  He's heartbroken and misses you, his wife."  Carol is trying to use her vows against her and Monica knows that, but she lets her continue.  "He feels terrible about what he's done and wants you to come back."

"This leg is just about up.  I'll be home soon.  Can you give me the number for that Vancouver studio?"

Carol gives her the number and begs her, "Please call him??"

Monica gives a little chuckle and tells Ma goodbye and that she loves her.

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One more swig of the devils swill and she dials the number for the Vancouver studio.  It rings a few times then she is greeted by a bubbly receptionist that irked her from the first word out of her mouth.  "Good evening, thank you for calling Little Mountain Studio, how may I direct your call?"

"My name is Monica Bongiovi, I'm looking for my husband.  He's there recording an album, Jon Bon Jovi.  Is he in the studio by chance? "

"HOLD PLEASE!" she smirks into the phone.  Monica can hear her irritation as the poor lady's day has to be trying.  If word is out that Bon Jovi is in town, the place can only be madness.

About 5 minutes later Monica can here the call connect again, "Hello?" was the sweet voice of her husband, a little out of breath.  He felt fear of the worst kind from this unexpected phone call, who's calling him there?  Only family knows they are there.

"It's me."  Her palms are sweaty and her heart is beating fast enough that she can hear it in her head, it throbs in her ears.

"Mon?" his surprise wasn't hidden very well.

She mouses a loving, "Hi."

"Where are you, are you okay?" his concern takes over.

"I'm in Miami, you know that.  Your mom gave me the studio number, I hope you don't mind."

"No, no. Not at all.  What's up?" he doesn't know what to say.  He hasn't talked to her in a few weeks and last he knew, she may never want to talk to him again.  "Is the tour going good?"

"Yeah, work is fine.  Can you talk or is this a bad time?" 

He's alone in an executive's office, kicked back with his feet on the desk.  "I have a few minutes, I was in tracking vocals when you called."

She feels bad that she pulled him away from work, his passion, but she really did need to hear his voice.  "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why did you have that taped delivered to my room?"

He was silent, for a time that was longer than she was comfortable with, so she asks again, "Jon, why'd you send me that tape?"

"I wanted to talk to you, so that's the only way I knew how without disturbing you or upsetting you."  He gives her his nervous chuckle, "What'd you think?"

"It upsets me Jon." she tells him, honestly and to the point.  "It upsets me and it hurts me."

"It wasn't meant to hurt you."

This time Monica is quiet for the uncomfortable amount of time so Jon continues, "I just tracked that song, it's going on the album.  What did you think?"  He holds his breath and waits for the critique that he knows she'll give him.

"I don't know Jon.  I don't know what I think."

"What you heard was raw.  Richie and I recorded that in NY."

"If it was written to evoke emotion, you did well.  If you wrote it to hurt me, you did well."