Chapter 44: The House

After his friends stumbled from the car, Richie extended a hand to Julianna. “Coming in, babe?”

Julianna blanched. “Um, I don’t think so. I think I told you, this place has some bad memories that are still too raw. I don’t think I can handle it. Come home with me.”

Richie persisted. “C’mon, Jules. It’s just a house. You had lots of good memories here before that asshole, and if you’ll let me, I’ll help you make some new happy memories here.” He looked into her eyes. “You can do this, you know; you told me once you’re very, very strong.” No reaction. “Please,” he implored. “At least come into the great room with me – I promise I’ll be with you the whole time, and if you still want to go back to the cottage, I’ll take you.”

Julianna sighed. It really was stupid to resist. This was the last hold Mark had over her, making her apprehensive to go into her own home. Still, there was a little voice in her head imploring her not to go into the house. Shaking that off, she blew out a breath, and reached to take Richie’s hand. “Alright,” she said. “I can promise you the great room.”

He handed her out of the car, closed the door, and nodded to Michael, who was standing at the ready. “I’ll escort Ms. Cavanaugh home, Michael.”

Michael made no move to leave. “No offense, sir,” he said, protective eyes on Julianna, “but I don’t work for you. Ms. Cavanaugh, you going to be alright getting back? Or do you want me to wait for you?”

Julianna answered, “Michael, I will be fine.” She reached into her purse, withdrew an envelope, and handed it to Michael. “Thank you again, Michael. As always, your discretion and professionalism are appreciated.”

“Thank you, Ms. C.,” Michael said. “Have a good night. You too, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you.” With that, he climbed back into the car, and took off.

Julianna looked at the front door, which the guys had left standing open. “It’s now or never. Let’s go,” she said, voice quaking, but not moving. Richie scooped Julianna into his arms, cradling her like he would a scared child. “What are you doing?” Julianna squeaked. “Put me down!”

‘Nope,” Richie answered, grinning like a fool. “I’m not giving you the chance to back out. You’re coming inside with me. You promised.”

“These caveman tactics don’t sit well with me, Sambora.” Julianna said, angrily. “I’m getting seriously pissed off here.”

“You’re just agitated at going into the house; you are not mad at me,” Richie was saying happily, as he strode toward the front door. He paused on the porch steps, and kissed her lips. “It’ll be alright. I’m here with you.” He locked eyes with her, and saw the terror and sadness in them. “Trust me,” he said.

Julianna saw quiet strength and steely resolve in the eyes before her. Resigned, she nodded. “I trust you, Rich. You know that. OK, take me in.”

“Close your eyes,” Richie said. She complied. “Concentrate on my arms holding you, and my voice talking to you.” He proceeded to slowly enter the house. He could feel Julianna’s body tense, and her pulse race, and not in a good way.

“You’re OK, Julianna. Don’t let the house win. Don’t let Mark win. Don’t let him keep you from your home.” He stopped walking. “Open your eyes.”

Julianna complied, and saw, for the first time, the job her friends had done in redecorating this space. It looked completely different from when she lived there with Mark. The floors were redone. The wall and window treatments were all different. The furniture still looked new. She saw the piano in its place of honor. She whispered to Richie, “Put me down.” He complied, and watched her walk over to the piano, tears in her eyes.

“Mama used to sing to this piano,” she said, softly stroking the finish. “I learned to play on this instrument. Oh, I can’t believe I haven’t seen it, touched it, in so long.” She turned to Richie, tears streaming from her face. “How could I let that bastard keep me from Mama’s Steinway?”

Richie crossed the room to her, and took her gently in his arms. “You were hurting, sweetheart. You had your heart broken here, and didn’t want the painful reminder.” He smiled a sad, ironic smile. “I still get the same way sometimes when I come across something of Heather’s that Ava has brought with her to my house,” He closed his eyes against the pain. “I can remember where we were when we bought it, or her reaction when I was something I gave to her as a gift...” he trailed off. “You just have to block it out or go quietly insane,” he finished quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“We’ve got a lot of baggage here, don’t we Rich,” Julianna asked softly.

“We sure do.” He shook his head and kissed her gently. “But, we don’t have to tote it alone. I’ll let you carry mine if you’ll let me carry yours.”

“You, darlin’, have made yourself a deal.”

Julianna blew out a breath and took an internal inventory. “It’s actually not too bad in this room. I think I could be comfortable in here again.” She moved from the protective circle of Richie’s arms to sit at the piano. Slowly, lovingly, she began a Beethoven piece, Moonlight Sonata. It’s quiet, haunting tones filled the room. Her eyes, still teary, closed as she gently stroked the keys. Back straight, fingers dancing slowly, purposefully up and down the keyboard, Julianna played with all the emotion and sadness she felt. When the music reached its gentle crescendo, and she began playing a bit louder, the music changed slightly, and now it wasn’t quite so sad.

The others, who had been in the kitchen, heard the music start. Thinking it was Richie, they ignored it. Dave still had half an ear on it, however, as the piano was his instrument, his creative outlet. “Nah, that ain’t Rich,” he said. “I know how Rich plays -- that isn’t it.”

“Maybe he has some music turned on,” Jon answered, remembering what Julianna had said about not being able to be in the house yet.

“C’mon, man, how drunk are you?” Tico scoffed. “Have you ever known Sambora to purposefully put on Beethoven?”

Dave looked at Tico, surprised. “You recognize Beethoven?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Tico said. “Yes,” he said in a mocking tone, “I recognize Beethoven.” He smiled. “I am multi-faceted, you know.” The others burst out laughing.

“Since when?” Jon said.

Tico flipped him off. “If it isn’t Sambora or a CD, it must be Julianna. Let’s go check it out.”

The three stopped in the entryway to the great room. They could see it was indeed Julianna. She was in profile, back straight in perfect recital posture, and they could see tears track down her cheek. She was riveting. They could see Richie watching her, pain and something that looked a whole lot like love mixed in his eyes. The three exchanged glances, and quietly entered the room, not wanting to disturb either of them. Sitting around the edge of the room, they just listened to the beautiful music.

Julianna knew the instant the others entered the room. She had been playing for people long enough that she developed a kind of sixth sense about that. She smiled to herself, and finished the piece. Wiping her eyes, she stood and turned to Richie. “Thank you, Rich. Thank you for this wonderful gift.” She kissed him tenderly, and smiled. Turning in Richie’s arms to look at Jon, she said with a watery smile, “You seem to see me crying at the piano an awful lot, Jon. I hope you don’t think that’s all I do.”

Seeing she was trying to lighten the mood, he took her cue. “I’ve seen you do other things, darlin’,” he said with a leer. “Don’t worry about it.”

Laughing, Julianna stretched then looped an easy arm around Richie’s waist. “Thank you guys for inviting me out tonight.” She looked adoringly at Richie. “I had a really good time.”

The three men were savvy enough to know when they were being gently dismissed. It didn’t bother them, however. They’d do anything for this woman who had brought their brother back from whatever black place he had been stuck in – she just didn’t know it yet. Dave spoke up. “I don’t know about you guys, but I need to go to bed. I’m beat.” He ambled over to Julianna and kissed her cheek. “For the record, I thought you played beautifully. I’d truly love to compare notes sometime about your time at Julliard. Good night, Jules.”

“”Night, Dave. I’d like that too,” she answered. The others called out their own good nights, came for their kisses, and left the room. Julianna looked at Richie. “I should probably go too; let you get some sleep.” She sounded unsure.

“Baby, I wouldn’t be sleeping if you left now, not unless I went with you. I’d be tossing and turning, wondering how long I could hold off until I hauled my ass off to your place and used this,” he reached into his shirt, and pulled out her key, which was on a long, thin, silver chain. Julianna was extremely touched by this gesture, and her eyes started to tear up again.

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a weepy drunk,” she said with a dry laugh.

“Don’t try to make light of this, Julianna,” Richie said, his voice and face extremely serious. “This is no joke.” He blew out a breath and turned away from her.

Julianna, confused, put a tentative hand to his shoulder. “Rich?” she asked.

Richie put up a hand to stall her. “I need to get this out. It’s been on my mind since the other night when you started to say you’d wait for me to come home.” He paced back and forth for a few minutes, muttering to himself, and pushing his hands through his hair. He stopped in front of Julianna, and took her hands. “Julianna, I need to tell you something pretty serious, but first you need to hear some things; things that other than Jon, I haven’t told anyone.” Julianna’s eyes went wide, and Richie could feel her hands start to shake. “It’s not a bad thing; at least, I don’t think it is. Don’t say anything yet; let me get the rest of this out.”

He dropped Julianna’s hands, and started pacing again.