Chapter 10

After lunch was demolished, Jon and Richie sat outside on porch while Jon puffed on his third smoke in an hour.

"It's got you rattled hasn't it?" Richie asked.

"More than I'd like to admit. How could she have come to mean so much to me so quickly? I can't lose her man." Jon said staring blindly out over the Navesink River. He took a deep draw on the cigarette and let the smoke burn his lungs before letting it drift slowly out.

"Listen Jon, I know you want to see Frankie but I really think you'd be better off talking to Beth first. Get her on your side and half the battle is won."

"You wanna come with me?" Jon's tone was hopeful.

"Dude, much as I'd love to meet the little hottie…" Richie wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, "I think this is something you'd best do alone."

"Yeah you're probably right about that." Jon nodded slowly in agreement.

***

Jon stood in the foyer of Beth's building. His luck hadn't held today and the doorman was waiting to greet him at the desk. Jon's palms were sweaty as he waited for a response from the other end of the phone line that the elderly uniformed gentleman was now on.

"Yes ma'am," he said into the receiver before clicking it back onto its base, "She'll see you now sir…just take the elevator to the penthouse."

"Thank you Wilson." Jon said reading the man's name off the tag on his lapel.

Wilson nodded formally in response, "Sir," as Jon moved off towards the elevator.

Up in the penthouse Beth was cursing furiously beneath her breath. How was it that he always managed to find her in a state of disarray? Frankie was coming home for dinner tonight and she had sounded a little down after the events of the last few days, so Beth was making her favorite - Ma's fried chicken and biscuits. Before she'd even had time to rinse her hands, the doorbell rang.

"Come in," she called as she walked down the hallway, "It's open."

Jon pushed open the apartment door and peered around it tentatively to find Beth a few feet back on the other side, her hands coated in flour and the smell of frying chicken heavy in the air. "Oh shit, sorry Beth, I've caught you in the middle of something…I'll come back another time…and be sure to call first."

"Don't be silly. It's fine, just a little cooking. Besides you're here now. Come on in…you'll just have to bear with me 'til I get this done." She said walking back into the homey kitchen.

There was a natural beauty about this woman. She exuded style, even dressed in a pair of faded denim fitted jeans and a super soft baby pink sleeveless T-shirt that hugged her curves., A short white chefs apron was wrapped around her waist and covered in chicken batter. Jon suddenly realized his mouth was watering as much from the way she looked as the smell of the comfort food.

"I'm expecting Frankie home for dinner so I thought I'd fix her something a little special. This week's been tough on her…" Beth paused, biting her lip when she saw Jon flinch, "Sorry I didn't mean it like that…" she trailed off.

"That's fine...really. This week's been tough on all of us." Jon touched his bruised eye, unconsciously drawing her attention to it when she turned unexpectedly back towards him.

Beth raised her hand to touch his face but dropped it self-consciously when she realized the intimacy of the gesture, "Who did this to you?"

Jon attempted a grin but winced at the pain. "Let's just say I got on the wrong side of a friend's fist."

"Remind me to stay away from that friend, will you, because if that's what a friend does to you, I'd hate to meet your enemies."

"Really Beth…he's a great guy. I only got what I deserved." Jon admitted.

"But still…regardless of what you did I can't condone that kind of violence." Beth scowled.

"It really wasn't Richie's fault; we'd just been to see Gin, well, you know, her grave. I knew he wasn't himself, but instead of walking away I pushed him a little too far." Jon grinned when he realized how strongly he was defending him.

"If you say so," Beth said, disapproval still plain on her face. "Now what can I do for you? I assume there is a reason for your visit."

Beth crossed the room and went back to working on dinner. Jon shifted uncomfortably and adjusted his jeans as he watched her bend deeply at the waist to check on the biscuits that were baking in the oven, her rounded ass tantalizingly exposed to him. He tried to occupy himself with a magazine on the bench so as not to be obvious in his admiration.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked indicating a stool at the counter as she turned her attention back to coating the chicken.

"No, of course not. Where are my manners? They always seem to take their leave when you come knocking. Can I get you anything?" she offered.

"No thanks, I'm good. But I would like to ask something of you Beth."

"Go ahead." She looked up at him with interest.

"It's about Frankie…

"I don't know what I can do for you there Jon. She has her mind made up. I would like to apologize for that little stunt she pulled the other day though," Beth looked at him chagrined. "That's not how she was raised…she shouldn't have done that. Thing is, she's a lot like her father in that way…when Branson set his mind to something…well, there was just no changing it."

Jon grimaced at the reference, but when Beth looked up his face was smooth. It was not easy to be reminded of the influence Branson had held in his daughter's life. "Beth, I am under no illusion that this will be easy, but I'd really like to get to know my daughter. I don't know how much you know about me, but I also have four other children that mean the world to me. Now I can't say for sure, but I think I'm a pretty good dad. They are all well-adjusted kids despite this crazy life I lead. I'd like to include Frankie in that life, and you too if you'll have me, have us. I'm not sure how this would work…it's all very new to me, but I would never exclude you from anything, Beth. You are as much a part of my family now as Frankie is. I will never be able to thank you for what you have done for her."

"That's a lovely sentiment, but I don't need your thanks Jon. She's my daughter, I
have done no more or less than I am sure you have done for your children. The fact that I didn't give birth to her doesn't make her any less my child." Beth's tone was not harsh, merely explanatory.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean…shit…I'm not doing this very well am I?" Jon was clearly uncomfortable. It was a state Beth did not imagine him to be in often. "I just meant to say that I am grateful that Frankie had people as generous and good as you and your husband to raise her."

"Thank you," Beth answered simply, "but you still haven't told me what you want from me."

"I was hoping that maybe you could talk her around for me. I know that so far I've been going about this all wrong, and as far as I can see you are about my only hope of ever getting to know her."

"I really can't see what good it would do, Jon. You've seen how…volatile her feelings are where you're concerned…."

"Yes, but I have also seen that you carry a fair amount of influence with her too. If anyone can help me Beth, it's you."

"I don't know Jon…I mean, you understand my first allegiance is to my daughter. I just don't know that I can promote you like that when she is so against it."

"What can I do to convince you that this is the right thing to do? Don't you think she should get to know me, to learn her heritage – both mine and Gina's?"

"I do but…" Beth hesitated

"But?" He questioned.

"But I just don't know if she's ready for that yet."

"Will she ever be ready, Beth?"

Beth put the chicken aside, wiped her hands and placed them flat on the counter, looking Jon directly in the eyes. "I think so… in time," she said gently. "Listen Jon, I'm sorry but I just can't force this on her right now and risk isolating her. We've both lost so much already in Branson…I just don't think we could survive losing each other too." Beth watched Jon open his mouth to speak but stopped him. "But that's not to say I won't talk to her...try to get her to see the advantages of getting to know you, and the regrets of turning her back on you. It's rare for someone in her position to have this opportunity - to get to know her biological father – and I know she will regret it if she turns her back on you now."

"I guess that's all I can ask except…"

"Go ahead," she prompted.

"Well, I would still really like to get to know my daughter, everything about her, including her history. If you think its best that I give her some space, I was wondering if you'd be willing to give me a few history lessons." Jon twisted his wedding ring around his finger nervously as he asked.

"That, I can do. It would be my pleasure in fact. What parent doesn't like to brag about their children."

"So…maybe we can have dinner once a week?" Just as he made the proposal the house phone rang.

"Hold that thought," Beth said as she reached for the cordless phone at the end of the counter. "Hello."

"Oh hi honey" Jon tried not to listen to the conversation but couldn't help it. The possibility it was Frankie on the other end of the line had his interest peaked.

"Oh…no…that's too bad. I'm making your favorite. Can you make it after?" There was a pause as Beth waited for Frankie's response. "Please try, ok honey. We really do need to have that talk."

Beth turned her back on Jon and lowered her voice, but it was not enough that he couldn't hear what was being said. "Yes, I know how you feel about him, that doesn't change the fact that he is your father. And beyond everything else, we do need to talk about how that is going to affect our lives, because honey…I can tell you…he won't give up on this."

There was a shorter pause this time, "Fine…ok. Will you come by tomorrow if you can't make it tonight?"

"Ok, good, I'll see you then. But at least try to come by and pick up some chicken tonight." Beth turned back to Jon and offered an apologetic smile, evidently the sensitive part of the conversation was over. "Yes, sweetie I know it's out of the way…but it's better fresh…or I could always…" Beth stopped obviously having been cut off. "Ok, Ok. I'll see you when I see you." Pause. "I love you too honey. Bye."

"Sorry about that Jon. It looks as though my dinner plans have been altered…and all this food." Beth looked in dismay over all the prepared food spread across the kitchen counter. "Well you mentioned dinner…care to start tonight?"

"And if Frankie decides to come after all? What will she make of my being here?"

"This is still my house Jon..if she turns up she will treat you with the same respect as any other invited guest." She answered confidently.

"If you're sure?"

"I am." Beth affirmed.

"Ok then…what can I do to help?" Jon asked getting up from the stool and moving into the kitchen beside her.

"You don't need to…" Jon shushed her by placing a finger gently on her lips, sending a tingle throughout her body.

"I know that…I want to." He dropped his finger just as quickly as he'd raised it. The softness of her lips was a serious distraction.

"Fine…you can get the biscuits out of the oven and start on frying the chicken, and I'll get to fixin' the gravy and salad." Beth replied, her flustered state accentuating her accent.

"I do believe I detect a hint of the South in that accent." Jon observed slightly amused. He had heard it the day before as well.

"I do believe you would be correct in that assumption, Mr. Bongiovi" Beth replied, laying the accent on thick, sounding more like Scarlett O'Hara than herself.

Jon chuckled, "Well, well, well you are full of surprises." Damn if that accent didn't drive him wild. He'd always had a thing for the southern accent…the gentle lilt…it almost seemed musical to him.

"Get to work. Or we'll be eating dinner at midnight…and that just won't do."

"Yes Ma'am."

Jon and Beth busied themselves preparing dinner. As they worked companionably side by side, she shared with him amusing little anecdotes of Frankie's upbringing. She told him about Frankie's grandparents, her own mother who was still alive and living in North Carolina, her father who had passed a few years before – bringing a tear to her eye – and Branson's parents, old money from New York, who - when alive - never quite approved of their son's choice of a wife and were not shy in expressing it. By the time the pair sat down to dinner, they were completely relaxed with each other and chatting as if they'd known each other for years rather than just a couple days.

They opened a bottle of wine with dinner and the stories Jon shared of his children had Beth laughing genuinely for the first time since Branson's death. Jon helped her clear the table and do the dishes, and all too soon it was time that the evening came to an end, but not before Beth arranged for another dinner the very next night. Jon was ecstatic, and she promised that this time she would be prepared and have some of Frankie's childhood photos and report cards available for him to see.

"We'll start at the beginning and work our way through the years. That way you won't miss anything." She explained as she showed him to the door.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this Beth," Jon took Beth's hand in his and raised it to his lips, "really…it means so much that you are willing to do this for me. I know the past year has been hard for you and I'm sure my appearance now has only added to that burden, and I'm truly sorry for that. But my children – all of them – mean the world to me, so I just want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart…thank you."

Beth looked into the azure pools that were Jon's eyes and could see plainly the conviction of his emotion. Damned if he hadn't won her over already. She knew, without a doubt, the following day she would be doing her level best to convince her daughter to see her father. "You're most welcome...and Jon… I will do my best to convince her to see you. You seem like a good man…it would do her good to have a positive role model such as yourself in her life."

"That's all I can ask." Jon considered something for a moment, "Beth would you like me to drop some food off for Frankie? It doesn't look like she's coming past. I can drop it with her doorman...at least she'll get it fresh."

"That's very kind of you. Just give me a minute and I'll call and see where she is." Jon found it hard to draw his attention away from Beth's ass as she walked away, he felt like one himself for looking at her in that way.

When she returned she was carrying a small basket of food. "Thanks for this, Jon. She's still at the office…won't be leaving for another half hour or so. I told her I'd get it couriered over; I didn't think it best to let her know who the courier was just yet. She's pleased it's coming though, I think she was really looking forward to it."

"I can't say I blame her for that…It was fabulous Beth…you're a wonderful cook. And on that note," he said smiling as he took the basket from her, "I'm going to get this food to Frankie, and leave you in peace. Sleep well Beth…I'll see you tomorrow." He hesitated a moment, then leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye," he called over his shoulder as he hit the button for the elevator and stepped inside as the doors opened.

"Goodnight." Beth called back just as the doors slid closed.

Jon dropped the food off as promised and headed home, this time to the apartment in the city. Richie would be long gone by now. He had plans with Ava the following morning and didn't want to disappoint her.

He let himself in to the empty apartment and wondered if it would ever feel like home. He considered sitting down to watch TV, but when he stifled a yawn he thought better of it and instead headed for the bedroom, ignoring the flashing light on the answering machine as he passed. Whatever it was could wait until morning. He stripped out of his clothes and slid naked between the crisp cool Egyptian cotton sheets and drifted off to sleep within minutes.