Chapter 33

Friday morning, Sara overslept again, and she showered and dressed in record time, not even taking the time for coffee before heading out to the car. On the way to the studio, she called Paul, finding out what he wanted for breakfast, then having to struggle up the stairs lugging her cameras, laptop and a large deli bag. She managed - only just - and was grateful when Paul opened the door as she arrived, relieving her of the food. By the time she’d opened her bag to get out the laptop, Paul was back from the kitchen with two plates and two mugs of coffee on a tray.

Sara took a mug as he passed her, savouring the coffee as she followed him to the table. She sat down on the armchair - the couch held too many memories - and ate her breakfast while Paul rhymed off the phone messages he’d taken while she’d been away. Only half-listening, nodding occasionally, Sara choked slightly on her coffee as Paul gave her the final message.

“This one came in this morning.” He said. “A bit cryptic. All the guy said was to tell you it was John, and that he’d found them. I asked what ‘them’ were, but he just said you’d know.” He studied Sara’s face, seeing the flushed cheeks and secretive smile.

“Oh, come on, boss - you obviously know what he meant. Spill!”

Sara shook her head, still smiling, but silently vowing to get Jon back somehow.

“Paul - you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Was all she’d say, and Paul just had to stay curious.

Trying to change the subject, Sara booted up the laptop and showed Paul the photos from the wedding, and he raised an eyebrow slightly when the ones of Jon appeared.

“Isn’t that crazy - you just photographed him last week, and then he turns up at your next job. What a coincidence.”

Quickly glancing at Paul, Sara was relieved to see he seemed to mean it genuinely, and didn’t have a clue what was going on. As usual on a Friday, Paul was hoping to get finished early, so he could get a head start on the weekend, so after a couple of hours of work, Sara let him leave. When he was itching to get away, Paul was more of a hindrance than a help anyway, so he was just as well getting out of her hair, and she wished him a good weekend as he left.

Finally alone in the studio, Sara spent a little time sending proofs of the wedding pictures to Ryan and Danny, then had a quick tidy up since it looked like she’d be working Saturday afternoon.

Shattering the quiet, the phone rang, and when she answered, it was Danny. He asked how she was, sounding slightly nervous, and Sara tried to ease his fears.

“I’m fine, Danny. I’m just glad that Mr Bon Jovi was passing by. So nice of him to look after me like that - really not what I’d have expected of someone like him. Thanks for calling, though, Danny. Oh, I’ve sent through the proofs of the photos, so you can get back to me whenever suits. Okay, bye.”

She hung up the phone again, cursing Jon for putting her in that situation, but not really worrying about it now - sounded as though Jon was right - Danny would just drop it to save any negative publicity over the wedding. As she stood up to go for more coffee, the phone rang again, and she grabbed it.

“Sara’s Home for waifs and strays!” She said into the phone, and there was a quick laugh at the other end.

“Do I qualify? Guess I’m about to be homeless.” Jon said, and she laughed.

“Nope. No room at the inn.”

“Shit. Well, I just wanted to say hi, and make sure it was still okay to come by with Richie tomorrow?”

“Yep, fine. I’ll be here. Oh,” she remembered, “Paul gave me a rather cryptic message earlier. Some guy called Jon……”

“Would you rather I’d told him the exact message?”

“God, no! He did ask me, but I told him he wouldn’t believe me if I told him.”

Jon sighed. “I want to see you tonight, Sara, but I’ve got Richie flying in.”

“He’s your friend, Jon, and he’s just broken up with his girlfriend. I think he needs you.”

“More than you do?” Jon asked, and Sara couldn’t help herself, answering before thinking.

“Never. But he is only here for the weekend - I’m here all the time.”

“True, babe, but I still want to see you. Can I tell Richie about you?”

Sara was touched that he’d ask her permission, and also nervous that he wanted to tell his best friend about her.

“Up to you, Jon. I don’t mind, but just let me know tomorrow if you have told him.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll just see what happens - it kinda depends what mood he’s in, though, with the Denise thing, and……..oh, hey - looks like I may have a new place to live!”

“Really? God, when I was looking for a place it took me months to find what I wanted. When did you go looking?”

Jon laughed a little self-consciously. “Well, I didn’t actually go looking. I asked my secretary to look for me, and she’s left me a message to say she’s found me somewhere.”

“Oh, what it is to have staff to do everything for you!” Sara teased him. “That, and plenty of money to spend, of course. Suppose it makes it easier, when you don’t have to worry about the mortgage payments, huh?”

“Yeah. You don’t need to tell me how lucky I am - seeing some of the people we’ve helped through Habitat for Humanity, I know exactly how fortunate I am.”

Now Sara felt bad, she’d forgotten how many charitable things Jon did with his money, and she hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I didn’t mean that the way it probably sounded. I know you do a lot of good things.”

“Don’t be silly, Sara - I know what you meant, and you’re right. So when are you heading home?”

The sudden change of subject threw Sara off-balance, and it took her a second or two to answer.

“Probably be just another half hour - Paul’s long gone - his weekend starts around Friday lunchtime - and I don’t have much else to do.”

“I’m out with Richie tonight, and I’ll probably stay at the same hotel rather than go back to the house. We can be at the studio by lunchtime tomorrow, if that’s okay? I’ll even buy lunch.” Jon suggested.

“Okay - enjoy your boys’ night out, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Does Richie drink coffee, or should I get something else in?”

“He’ll love your coffee. See ya tomorrow then, babe.”

Sara said goodbye, hanging up the phone and clicking on the answering machine - she just couldn’t be bothered answering any more calls today. She went into the kitchen, where she washed out the coffee pot and got it all ready just to switch on in the morning, then decided to award herself an early finish, shutting up shop and heading for her car just after three o’clock.

Fortunately, she was just ahead of rush hour traffic, and was quickly home, where she could get on with some of the laundry that seemed to pile up all by itself. Sara had a giggle to herself when she dug into the basket and came up with the flimsy babydoll, putting it aside to be washed by hand as she recalled the morning she’d worn it for Jon. She threw a load of laundry into the machine, then grabbed a snack, a diet coke and her book, since the hammock was sitting in a patch of sunshine, just begging her to go lie there.

While Sara was lying reading and, ultimately, dozing off, Jon was throwing a few clothes into a bag and telling Dot and the kids he was spending the weekend with Richie at their usual hotel. He also prepared the way for his departure, by telling them it looked like he had a new place to live, but he wouldn’t know for sure until the next week. The kids started bombarding him with questions about where it was, what was nearby, when could they come stay, and he had to explain he hadn’t even seen the place yet. His cellphone rang, rescuing him from the interrogation as he answered with a quick ‘Yeah?’.

“Hey, bro, it’s me.”

“Oh, hey Richie.” The kids started yelling more as he said the name, so he pulled the phone from his ear, and let the kids scream hello to their favourite uncle-but-not-uncle before speaking again.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’. Just wanted to let you know I’ve just landed in your fair city, and I’m headed to the hotel.”

“I’ll see you there in an hour or so.” Jon told him, and Richie said goodbye and hung up.

Jon kissed the kids, gave Dot a peck on the cheek, then took his bag out to the car. This time he did take the beautiful old Chevelle, since he knew the valet parking guys at the hotel would take care of her. He was looking forward to seeing Richie - it had been a couple of months since they’d gotten together, and he wanted to see how he was doing. Jon still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him about Sara, but that could wait.

Thinking of Sara, Jon glanced at his watch before pulling out onto the road. Her house lay roughly on his route to the hotel, well, not really, but not all that much of a detour. Jon was finding that he just wanted to be near her, and it felt alien to him - he hadn’t felt this much of a need for anyone in so many years - not just a sexual desire - God knows, there’d been enough of those over the years - but a longing deep in his soul to be close to somebody. And not just any somebody. Sara.

Without conscious intent, Jon was driving to Sara’s house, and he picked up his cell to call her, then laid it down again. He drove up to her house unannounced, and was relieved to see her car sitting there - at least she was home. Jumping out of the car, he strode up to the door, knocking softly, then harder when there was no response. Still nothing, and Jon bit his lip indecisively for a second, before heading around to the back of the house, to check if she was in the kitchen. As he rounded the corner of the house, he saw her in the hammock and smiled as he crossed the lawn to her side.

She made no reaction as he said her name, and Jon realised she was asleep, her book fallen to the ground, where it had knocked over a can of diet coke. He stood looking down on her for a few minutes. He loved to watch her sleep, almost the way he’d felt when Steph was born, and he’d spend hours sitting by her cradle as she slept, although his feelings toward Sara weren’t exactly as pure as those he’d had for Steph!

Jon gave the hammock a gentle push, and Sara rolled her head, but didn’t wake. Quickly glancing around, Jon made sure no neighbours could see over the fence, then knelt by the hammock, holding it steady against any sudden movements as he stealthily lifted the bottom of Sara’s t shirt, placing his hand on her belly. She still didn’t wake immediately, a slight frown creeping over her face as her unconscious mind registered the touch, but when his hand moved and his fingers closed on her breast, she woke up very quickly!

“What the?!” She opened her eyes angrily, then saw who it was. “Jon? Jon, what are you doing here?”

His hand was still under her shirt, and he grinned, squeezing her nipple gently with his fingers.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

Sara struggled to sit up in the hammock. “I thought you were going to see Richie?”

“I am. I was just passing by, and thought…..”

“Passing by? Jon, you don’t ‘pass by’ here going to the city. Not from Jersey anyway.”

He hung his head. “Okay - I wanted to see you,” his voice lowered even further, “I wanted to touch you.” His blue eyes peeked up through the unruly blond hair. “Is that okay?”

Taking his face in her hands, Sara smiled, “Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay, actually. Help me out of this thing?”

“Sure.” He leaned toward her, stealing a kiss. “Put your arms round my neck.”

Sara wrapped her arms behind him, and Jon hooked his arm under her knees, lifting her straight off the hammock and standing there holding her in his arms.

“Thank you. You can put me down now - I’m no lightweight.”

“Yes, you are.” But he put her down on her feet. “I can’t stay, babe, I just wanted……just, well, just wanted to see you I guess. I need to go see Richie, though.”

“I know. I love that you came all the way over here to see me though. C’mere.”

Lifting her face to his, Sara kissed him, their tongues duelling until Jon pulled back, forcing himself to let go of her.

“I really have got to go.” He muttered. “And I if I don’t go right now, I won’t go at all.”

Sara smiled and stroked his face. “Then go. I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio. Now go!” She dropped her hand and smacked his ass, hard, and he jumped.

“That’s something else you’ll have to pay for.” He warned her, pressing his lips to her forehead then turning and jogging away around the corner of the house before he could talk himself out of it.