Hath Gets Hurt

Jennifer and Cheryl had a great, lazy day. Somewhere mid-afternoon, they loaded up in Jennifer’s car, dialed up the GPS, and pointed the big blue Chevy toward the airport. They were picking up Samantha, another woman from the board, who had decided last minute to make the trip and meet Jen and Cheryl in person.

When they arrived at the terminal, they saw a sleek blonde in dark sunglasses waiting outside with one huge suitcase and a laptop bag. Jennifer pulled up alongside her and threw the transmission into park. They were out of the car in an instant, embracing each other like long-lost sisters.

“Sam!” Jennifer said, “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person!”

“Jen,” she answered, “Cheryl and I wanted to make this a surprise, but we just couldn’t keep it a secret. This is awesome. I can not WAIT for tonight!”

The girls loaded Samantha’s gear into the Tahoe and had their GPS navigator take them back to the hotel. They got Sam all unpacked and they called down to the front desk looking for something to eat. The desk clerk recommended a pizza place about a block away that delivered the best Sicilian pizza they had ever eaten. Sitting sprawled on their hotel room floor with a pile of napkins and bottles of soda, the three women got acquainted. By the time the final slice was polished off, they felt like they had known each other forever.

“So, you and Richie still getting along then?” Samantha asked.

“From what I heard last night,” Cheryl said, “they get along JUST fine.”

“Damn, Cheryl!” Jennifer said, blushing.

“Well, it’s totally your fault,” she answered, laughing. “You should have gone with him to the Ritz.”

Jennifer shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. Couldn’t just ditch you guys like that.”

“Hell, girl, if it were me, I would have dumped ya’ll at the drop of a hat,” Samantha said.

“Good to know,” Jennifer said.

Around five, Jennifer’s phone rang. She smiled and answered, “Hey baby.”

“Jen, darlin’, what time are you coming to the venue?” Richie’s honey-smooth voice curled her toes.

“Listen to you, ‘the venue’. Honey, repeat after me. ‘Gahden’. It’s the ‘Bahstin Gahdin’. Or it should be anyway,” she groused. “And we’re getting dressed now, we should be leaving in about half an hour, we’re just waiting on Krissy.”

“She’s the one with the restaurant, right?”

“Yep, that’s her.” She heard a knock on the door. “And she’s here early. I’ll see you soon. Have a good show.” She watched Cheryl let Krissy in, and the women get acquainted.

“Come backstage before you go to your seats. Please, just for a minute,” Richie said. “The kiss you gave me this morning wore off; I need another. Bring your friends if you want to.”

Jennifer laughed. “How can I resist that? Alright, let me ask the girls.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned to the others. “Rich wants us to all stop by his dressing room before the show, that okay with you?” She laughed at the screams that answered her. She went back to Richie. “Looks like we’ll see you sooner than I thought.”

Richie gave her instructions on where to go and who to call, and they left for the Garden. A 15-minute train ride later, and they were walking through the doors at the TD Banknorth Garden. After picking up their tickets at will-call, Jen pulled out her phone. “Obie? It’s Jennifer. Richie said I should call you after we got our tickets?” She listened for a minute. “We’re through the gates already, and up at the merch stands.” She listened a minute more. “Okay, will do.”

“What do we have to do?” Krissy asked.

“Obie said to grab a drink at the bar, and he’d send someone for us.” The girls chattered excitedly as they went to the bar. Settling in with margaritas, they toasted each other, and anything else they could think of. They waited a half an hour before a tall thin woman with a long brown ponytail tapped Jennifer on the shoulder.

“Are you Jennifer Petruzzo?”

Jennifer turned around with a wide smile. “I sure am,” she said. “Are you here to take us backstage?”

The woman, Susan, led the foursome through the hallways to an unguarded stairwell. They descended three flights to a basement and made their way through a series of hallways to a locked door. She swiped a keycard through a slot and the door slid open.

The girls all shared looks before following Susan into chaos. People were rushing around everywhere, wearing headsets or talking into walkie-talkies. “Stick close!” Susan admonished, weaving expertly around people and equipment. The four women trailed behind her like ducklings behind their mama. Soon, she stopped in front of a door labeled by a sign reading “SAMBO”.

Susan knocked on the door. “Rich? I’ve got your guests out—”

“It’s about damned time,” he growled as the door was flung open. He stood there in his snug black jeans, no shirt, and his hair still damp from his shower. “Where have you been?” he asked, grabbing Jennifer and hauling her to his chest. He slanted his mouth over hers, driving his tongue into her mouth and winding her hair around his wrist. Jennifer linked her hands around the back of his neck, driving her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth.

“Jesus,” Krissy said loudly. “If you wanted a pre-show screw, you should have left us at the bar!”

Jen jumped back from Richie, blushing. “Sorry. But damn, I couldn’t resist! Could you?”

Krissy considered Richie, giving him a slow once-over. “Probably not, seeing as how he’s half dressed and packing a whole freaking salami in his pants. Damn.”

Richie laughed and looped an arm around Krissy. “Sorry, darlin’, the salami’s for Jen. Come on in, though.” He ushered the girls into his dressing room and pulled a t-shirt off a hanger. He had everyone’s undivided attention as he pulled the tight cotton over his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cheryl said. “Not a damned thing.” She shook her head and looked around the room. “So, I hate to say it, but this is kind of a dull room. I expected, I don’t know, something different, I guess.” The room was fairly Spartan. A couch with low coffee table in front of it, and a lighted vanity with stool were the only pieces of furniture. A rack of clothes stood to one side, and a good half-dozen guitar stands were scattered throughout the space.

Richie smiled. “All I have to do is shower and dress here,” he said. “I’m really a simple guy.”

As if on cue, a knock on the door sounded. “Richie? You ready for me?” A husky feminine voice called through the door.

“Sure thing, Leese, c’mon in.”

The door opened to a curvy brunette with a big black messenger-style bag slung across her body. “Dammit, Rich, your hair is almost dried. Look at the way the ends are curling. Sit down.” She pointed at a chair and Richie sat. Only then did the woman notice the others in the room. “Oh sorry, hiya, I’m Lisa, hairstylist extraordinaire.” The girls introduced themselves and sat on the couch to watch.

She dropped her bag on the vanity and set to work. She chatted with the girls while she smoothed product into Richie’s hair. They watched her do her job, and snickered when she had to use a straightener to get the waves out. When she was done, she smacked Richie on the back of the head. “Next time, tell me that you have company and need to be done sooner. You know damned well your hair is a pain in the ass once it starts to curl at the edges.”

“Sorry, Leese,” Richie said contritely, pouting prettily. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Oh stuff it with that face,” she said, disgusted. “You know I can’t stand it when you pout at me. Now, don’t fuck up the ‘do.” She looked at Jennifer. “And you, keep your hands out of it. Don’t make me come back here.” She winked to take the bite out of her words. “Now I have to go deal with Curly. Lord help me. Bye!” And just like that, she was gone.

Richie looked at the girls. “Well, I think that’s all the beauty prep we have to do. How do I look?” He stood up and spun around, wiggling his ass at the girls.

“You look great,” Samantha said, “but you’re missing something.”

“I am?” Richie said, looking at himself in the mirror.

“The danglies!” the girls all yelled at once.

“You know,” Jen added, “bling strings on your ass.”

“Wanna help me put them on?” Richie asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“If she won’t, I will,” Cheryl said, laughing.

Richie pulled a pile of silver from a box under the vanity. “Here, pick some out.” The girls each picked strings of beads and thread for him to hook onto his belt loop. When he was sufficiently blinged, he spun again. “Now do I pass muster?”

A pounding on the door was the only warning they had before the Jon stormed in. “Rich,” Jon said, “Where the fuck – oh, hi Jen, ladies,” he said.

Krissy stood staring at him. His form-fitting tshirt and pants, matched with the twinkling eyes and wide smile were very difficult to turn away from. Cheryl and Sam were likewise struck. Jennifer had to laugh at their star-struck expressions and Jon’s self-satisfied one. “Oh, don’t get all cocky, there Jon,” she said. “Remember, I did the same thing the first time I met you, and I’m way over that now. The novelty will wear off soon enough.”

“Bitch,” Jon said, smiling at her. He shook each woman’s hand and kissed their cheeks. “We need to take Richie now, he has to do his fucking JOB,” he said, over their heads, catching his wingman’s eye. “You girls have fun tonight; Susan will take you back to your seats. AAR is about to go on, they’re pretty good.” Confident that his orders would be carried out, he turned and left the room.

Susan came in and started to usher the girls out. Jennifer lingered for a moment to give Richie another kiss. “Break a leg, baby, have a fun show.”

“I will, darlin’, thanks. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Bye, Richie!” the girls called over their shoulders.

Susan led them back to their seats just in time for the All American Rejects to take the stage. It was mostly the same setlist as the night before, but this time, Jennifer saw it from the front. When their set was done, the girls made a trek out for one last drink and to hit the ladies’ room. When they came out of the bathroom, they could hear “Jukebox Hero” playing in the arena.

“Hurry!” Cheryl called. “It’s almost time!” The girls knew that Jon liked to have that song played just before they took the stage. As the girls hurried to take their seats, Jen got bumped. She tried to grab onto the row of seats to stop her fall, but it moved, and she heard a loud crack then felt a burning rush of fluid to her knee.

“SHIT!” she cried out, grabbing onto the person in front of her.

Krissy leaned over to talk in Jen’s ear. “What happened?”

“I just blew out my fucking knee!” she cried, dashing the tears from her eyes. “And I lost my freaking buzz,” she joked.

“Can you stand? Do you want me to go get someone?”

“I can stand, I think.” She tested the knee carefully, and found she was able to put weight on it. “Maybe I just sprained it,” Jen said. “Don’t go anywhere; I don’t want you to miss this!”

Throughout the show, Jennifer had to sit down periodically to rest her knee. She rubbed at it, trying to get the pain to go away, but the dull throb was always there. Still, she was able to enjoy herself, and was fairly certain she had just strained it. A little Advil, a whole lot of ice, and she’d be fine.

When the houselights came up after the final bow, the girls waited until the venue was mostly empty before trying to leave. Jen limped her way up the stairs and stopped at the top, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. “Anyone got Advil?” she asked. Samantha pulled some from her bag, and Cheryl went off in search of a cup of water. Once Jen had the pills on deck, they started back for the hotel.

“Isn’t Richie expecting you?” Krissy asked.

Jen nodded, “Yeah, but I can’t handle it right now,” she said. “I’ll give him a call; I need some ice before I take you home. Richie’ll understand.” She pulled out her phone and dialed. “Hey baby,” she cooed when Richie answered.

“Darlin’, where are you?”

“Rich, I tweaked my knee and need to go ice it. I’m fine,” she said, when he started making noises about coming to see if she was alright. “Seriously; it’s fine. I’m going back to the hotel with the girls, and will ice it for a while before taking Krissy home.” She sighed. “Guess I’ll see you this weekend, sweetheart.”

“If you’re sure you’re okay...”

“I’m fine, I promise. Have fun and call me later, okay?”

“Sure thing, darlin’,” Richie said. “Bye.”

The girls made it back to the hotel in short order, and Jen settled onto the bed with a bag of ice on her knee. “Damn, fuck, shit, that hurts,” she complained.

“Are you sure you still want to go to New York?” Samantha asked.

“Oh hell yeah,” Jennifer answered. “I am not missing the show of a lifetime for a stupid little injury! It’ll be fine. I’ll pick you guys up at the train station at lunch time.” A short time later, Krissy and Jen left, sharing hugs and kisses with the others. Krissy carried all their bags down to the car, and they took off. A little while after that, once Krissy was home, Jen headed home. In the foyer, she took one look at the stairs and was grateful she had already packed for the weekend and brought her bags downstairs. She smiled at the thought of the little wrapped package nestled in her lingerie. She hoped Richie liked his birthday present. She dropped her current bags on the floor, rummaged through for her toothbrush, and went to the lav off the kitchen.

When Richie called, Jen was fast asleep on the couch. “Hello?” she said, a little disoriented at having woken up somewhere other than in her bed. She stretched deeply, and cried out when her knee shifted.

“Baby, it’s me, are you okay? You don’t sound okay.”

“Rich, honey, I’m fine. I just forgot I twisted my knee last night is all. What time it is?”

“Dunno,” Richie said. “Sometime after four, I think. What time are you leaving?”

Jen sighed and snuggled deeper into the couch. “Around noon. You?”

“Jon has us leaving in about an hour,” he said. “Told us we can relax when we’re in the city.”

“Okay,” Jen said, yawning.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’,” Richie said, chuckling. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am. Oh, and Rich?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said. “I miss you.”

“Miss you too, and thanks. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Jen was on her way back to sleep already. She heard Richie say goodbye, then didn’t hear anything else until her alarm went off a little past ten.