Casa de Hath

Richie and Jennifer were at the airport Wednesday morning, as promised. Jennifer held a sign that said “Bill” and tried hard to keep a straight face when she saw Jon and Tiffany come through their gate. Tiff ran across the open space and wrapped her arms around Jennifer.

“I’m so glad to see you again!” she said. “Thanks so much for having us. I don’t mind telling you that the photographers were just about gettin’ on my very last nerve.”

“You are very welcome. Now, gimme that hand,” Jennifer said, grabbing for Tiffany’s left hand. “Oh, T, it’s gorgeous,” she said. “Jon done good.”

“Yeah, he did alright,” Tiff said, positively beaming.

“Seriously, how has the press been?”

Tiff rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, Jen, any time we stepped out of the damned apartment, someone was there to take our picture. And you,” she gave a stern look to Jennifer that was ruined by the mirth in her eyes. “You had to go on the board and post about the pictures those damned photographers published yesterday.”

“Hey, I stood up for you!” Jennifer said indignantly. Then she ruined it by laughing. “If you read it all, I said that you guys looked good together and Jon looked happy.” She snuck a look at the man in question. “He does, you know.”

Tiffany looked over at Jon, who was deep in conversation with Richie. “Richie does too. I’m glad you guys worked it out.”

“Me too, girlfriend.” Jennifer was thoughtful for a minute. “So spill, what WAS Jon laughing at in those pictures?”

Tiffany chuckled. “This cab was driving real slow down the street, which was odd because, well, this WAS New York City, and there wasn’t much traffic. Anyway, the cabbie toots his horn, and we look over, and a big hairy ass is pressed against the window.

Jennifer laughed. “No way!”

Tiffany nodded. “Yes way. Jon said if he didn’t know for a fact that Richie was here in Boston, he woulda sworn it was him.”

Jennifer groaned. “I don’t even want to know how he knows what Rich’s ass looks like pressed against a window.”

The women linked arms and went with the men to baggage claim. Richie was horrified at the amount of luggage that came down the chute. “How the hell long are you staying?” he asked.

Jennifer elbowed him roughly. “Shut up, Rich, it’s my house, they can stay as long as they want.”

“Thank you, doll,” Jon said, kissing Jennifer’s cheek. Tiffany had stretched up on tip-toe to kiss Richie’s. “We’re not sure about our departure,” Jon said warily. “We saw on the news that they’re letting people back into Galveston, but it’s a long drive to get in; the airports are still closed.”

“And I told you,” Tiffany said, “that I don’t care how long it takes, I wanna get back and assess the damage.”

“I know, baby,” Jon said, wrapping an arm around Tiffany’s shoulders and kissing her temple.

“Well, whatever you wanna do,” Jennifer said, “is fine with me.”

The foursome went out to the short-term lot and piled suitcases, a guitar case, and themselves into the Tahoe. Jennifer climbed up behind the wheel, her awkward ascent to the running board and stiff-legged entry to the vehicle looking resignedly natural if not comical.

“Hobbling around pretty good I see,” Jon said, laughing.

“I know you aren’t laughing at me, Midge,” Jennifer said, purposefully using the nickname Richie used when he wanted to push Jon’s buttons.

“Oh, I know you just didn’t call me ‘Midge’, Hath,” Jon said, emphasizing her pen name.

She blushed and started the car, and Richie immediately turned on the XM radio. Prayer was on, and the guys groaned. Tiffany and Jennifer laughed, and started singing at the top of their lungs – very much off key. The boys begged them to stop, but the girls sang every last note, including the talk box wah-wahs, until they were all laughing so hard they nearly pissed themselves.

“Dayum, Jennifer,” Tiffany said, “your voice is terrible!” She was laughing hysterically.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I’ve gotta tell you, Rich doesn’t mind it,” Jennifer answered. She cleared her throat and did her very best impression of a phone sex operator. “Ain’t that right, lover?”

“Jen,” Richie warned. “Stop it.”

“Aw baby,” Jennifer crooned, making Tiffany chuckle. “You weren’t saying that a couple hours ago. In fact I believe your exact words were ‘fuck ‘em, let them take a cab’.”

Jon punched Richie’s shoulder. “You bastard!” he said, laughing. “You’d make us take a cab just so you could get laid?”

“Hell yeah,” Richie agreed. “Wouldn’t you?”

Tiffany turned around and raised an eyebrow at Jon. “Uh, I’d try, but T wouldn’t let me.”

“You’re damned right I wouldn’t,” she said. “You are an excellent lay, fantastic in fact, but manners are manners.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jon drawled, and leaned forward to tug on Tiffany’s braid.

The joking and banter made the hour-long drive back to Jennifer’s house seem to fly by. As they passed through the gates, Tiffany whistled. “Damn, girl, you do alright.”

“Thank God for pre-nups,” Jennifer quipped, then noticed Jon’s frown in the back seat. “Uh-oh, did I light up a touchy subject there?”

Jon shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “She thinks we should have one, I don’t happen to agree.”

“Jon, that’s our business,” Tiffany admonished, as they poured out of the car.

“Sorry, honey,” Jon said.

“So!” Richie said. “T, you gonna try out Jen’s stripper pole? Damned thing’s been lonely with her all laid up like that.” He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “If I do, Sambora, it won’t be in front of you.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Richie wheedled. “I have a whole fistful of dollar bills.”

Tiffany punched him in the stomach, hard enough to make him say OOOF! “Richie,” she said, “you don’t have enough money for me to dance for you.”

He pouted, which made Jennifer laugh. “Oh, you big baby,” she scolded.

And so it continued all through lunch. After they cleaned up, Jennifer hopped online to answer a few emails and PMs from the girls, and laughed at Denise’s.

“Rich, baby, you’re outed,” she said. “Denise and Lucia want to meet you now, next time you’re home.”

“Sure thing,” Richie said. “Are they gonna wear their hair up for me?”

Jon laughed. “T wrote ME as the vampire, asshole,” he said, smiling at Tiffany, who blushed.

“Watch it, baby,” Tiffany warned. “I haven’t completely written off writing slash.”

Jennifer laughed. “I can collaborate with you! I know Rich’s lines and moves, and could accurately describe his technique...”

Tiffany burst out laughing at the looks on their men’s faces. “Would he be throwing or catching?”

“Stop!” the men said together. “Shut up!” Jon protested.

The girls ignored them. “Oh I think they should wrestle for throwing rights.”

“Oh, but Richie’s bigger,” Tiff said.

“How do you know?” Jennifer asked, then blushed. One of the guys said ‘fuck’. “Oh, that’s not what you meant. Uh, well, yeah he is bigger, but Jon’s more ripped, I think they’d battle honorably for dominance.”

Jon and Richie looked at each other. They knew a sure-fire way to get their girls to shut up. They stalked across the room and each took his woman into his arms. Richie cradled the back of Jennifer’s head with a big hand. Jon framed Tiffany’s delicate face with his hands. The two men leaned in and kissed the ever-loving shit out of their women. They kissed their girls long and hard and after a few minutes, felt the girls go limp in their arms. When they broke apart, the girls looked at each other.

“What were we talking about?” Jennifer asked her friend.

“I have no earthly idea,” Tiffany answered, fanning her face.

The two men exchanged a high-five.

Jennifer suggested her friend’s barbecue place for dinner, but warned them about ribs and ‘ritas night. Tiffany was looking forward to trying Georgia barbecue. She was a little leery about it, because after all, you want barbecue, there’s not a better place then Texas to get it, but she was game. Jon thought it would be fun.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Jennifer went in by herself. Krissy looked up from the table. “Damn, Jen, I thought Richie was with you this week.”

“He is,” Jennifer answered. “I had friends fly in today, they’re here too.”

“Well where are they?” Krissy asked.

Jennifer looked out the window. “Here they come. Be nice.”

When Richie came in, Tiffany was next to him. Jon was behind Richie and not visible right away. When Richie leaned down to kiss Krissy’s cheek, and the other ladies saw who was behind him, the whole table, all eight of the women, said, “Fuck me” at the same time.

Jon chuckled. “Ladies, as tempting as that is,” he said, smiling that smile, “I think my fiancée would have something to say about that.”

“Nah,” Tiffany said, flipping her wrist. “They’d just get you warmed up. ‘Salright.” The women all laughed. “Hey, I’m T,” she said. After the introductions, and a few minutes of gushing and general star-struck fan behavior, they settled in to eat. Matt brought out big piles of ribs and cole slaw, dirty rice, corn on the cob and garlic smashed potatoes. Cornbread and sweet tea rounded out the meal, and they laughed and talked and stuffed their faces until they couldn’t swallow another bite.

Toward the end of the meal, Matt approached them. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, after kissing Jennifer’s cheek. “But would you guys mind if I took a photo for the brag wall?”

Richie looked affronted. “How come you didn’t want my picture last time I was here?”

Matt looked sheepish and glanced at his wife. “My wife’s a fan, but uh…” he trailed off.

Jon saved him. “But she’s got the hots for me, not the wingman.” He nodded. “I understand. Happens all the time” Krissy buried her face in Veronica’s shoulder.

“Fuck you,” Richie said.

“No thanks,” Jon replied.

They posed for pictures at the bar and back in the kitchen, and took one with Matt for the brag wall, then posed with each of the ladies.

“Thanks,” Matt said. “Thanks a lot.”

Krissy pulled Jennifer aside, into the vestibule where the bathrooms were.

“OH MY GOD!” she said, trying for sotto voce, but failing miserably. “I can’t believe JON FUCKING BON JOVI is in my restaurant!”

“Krissy, calm down!” Jennifer said, giggling.

Richie stalked over. “How come you didn’t go all ape shit when I first came into your restaurant?”

“PUSSY!” Jon yelled at Richie, making Krissy laugh.

“DICKWAD!” Richie yelled back. He looped his arms around Jennifer and Krissy, and led them back to the table. They all declined dessert, but hung around for a little while to listen to the local blues band that was playing. Eventually, Jon, Richie, and their girls made their way back to Jennifer’s house.