LVII

Wednesday, 3 am. Frédérique woke up to the sound of the crackle of the gravel road that lead to the studio. She had her face on Richie’s chest, one flexed leg rested on his stomach, while his hand was splayed on her thigh. It could only be one person at that hour of the night: Jon. She moaned softly and turned to lay on her stomach, Richie put his arm across her back, then kissed her shoulder. Less than a minute later, they both fell asleep again.

It had been Frédérique’s idea to spend the two weeks off before the European leg of the tour in the newly built Pennsylvannia house so Richie could rest, but instead, he spent almost all day holed up in the studio with Obie and other sound technicians working on, installing and checking the equipment. Practically every other day Jon would also come and work with them, sometimes alone, other times he brought his wife or his children. Richie’s studio had become “Jon and Richie’s new love nest”, as Frédérique teased them.

She herself had been working non-stop since the construction had finished in mid-February, decorating the interiors, buying and arranging the furniture and supervising the gardening around the house. She and Richie had “officially” moved in after Jazz Fest, a date that Frédérique had marked as one of the happiest in her life. Richie’s daughter had spent a couple of weeks there with her while the band toured North America and Canada: whenever Richie had a couple or some days off, he’d come home and stay with them as well, or the two would fly over to see a show. There were still some details to finish here and there but it was coming out like they wanted it to. Richie was thinking about putting the Philadelphia apartment back on the market and Frédérique didn’t want to let go of her New York one, but had finally decided to buy a bigger one so his daughter could stay with them when she came to the East Coast.

They used it only every once in a while, anyway, she’d take care of properly remodeling it once the tour was finally over in July. God, that would be strange: their relationship had developed, fallen apart and thrived again during the duration of that monster tour, she felt a sort of melancholy when she thought about its ending, but it was mixed with excitement - she wondered what their lives would be once it was over. For starters they had planned to pay an extended visit to her family in France, maybe even take Richie's daughter and mom with them. Then Richie reminded Frédérique of her promise to let him kidnap her – with the tour and the construction they just hadn’t found the time to do it yet. Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she thought about that in her dreams. 

Frédérique woke up again and turned off the alarm. 9.30. She stretched a little bit and managed to open her eyes. Out of habit she turned to look for Richie but then remembered he’d gotten up a few hours before, so he was probably working with Jon at the studio. She got up and put on her exercise clothes and running shoes, then walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. There were still unopened boxes of appliances scattered all over and also the box containing the pictures she had framed to hang over the fireplace. She made a mental note of hanging them in the afternoon. She knew she should have finished days ago, but she recognized she’d been a little lazy, just enjoying and spending time with Richie - except when he was at the studio with Jon, time that she used to catch up with her own work.

She started the coffee machine and arranged a big tray with different items for breakfast (cheese, fruits, yogurt, cereal, etc.): Richie and Jon had probably forgotten what food was by now. Carrying the tray with both her hands, she walked the wooden footpath that joined the house and the studio, surrounding the pond so that the two blocks were visually separated by the willow trees on the perimeter of the pond. It was a beautiful, sunny, but chilling and slightly humid day.

Richie was in one of the cabins surrounded by at least twenty of his guitars, while Jon held his head with his hand, resting his elbow on the console, and worked the controls loosely with his other hand. They were so concentrated they didn’t hear her walking in, but Jon was the first to react when he was invaded by the pleasurable smell of freshly ground coffee. Richie kept plucking the chords and asked Jon a question without looking up - only when Jon didn’t answer he lifted his face and saw that Frédérique had brought them breakfast. Sweet woman. His expression turned from solemn concentration to pure happiness and relaxation when he saw her. She replied back with a wide smile and blew him a kiss.

The two men wolfed down whatever was on the tray, while Frédérique only took some coffee and a green apple. Jon noticed her working-out attire.

“Alright, now that you’ve made me all fat I need to burn out the calories”, Jon said patting his flat stomach. “Mind if I join ya?”.

“Of course not”, she replied. “Wanna come, baby?”, she asked Richie as she massaged his back, trying her Jersey accent with a grin. Richie and Jon laughed out loud: she’d been trying to pull it off for months but to no avail, it only made her French accent even cuter. Richie took her hand and pulled her to his lap, kissed her neck and hugged her. Richie had been working out really hard, he had installed a small gym in a corner of the spacious living-room downstairs, facing the huge picture windows that opened up to the beautiful surroundings, and they usually went running around the winding roads surrounded by the green hills nearby. Sometimes he’d run with Jon, others, Frédérique would join them. He was leaner and trimmer than he had been in years and he felt and looked great and healthy.  

“I’m gonna take a nap. Kidd’s been whipping my ass for hours”, he replied with a deep, tired voice.

The three of them exited the studio: while Frédérique washed the dishes, Richie crawled into bed and Jon changed into his working out clothes. She was about to finish when she heard Jon’s steps down the stairs, then his distinct smell when he stood in the space that separated the kitchen from the dining-room, as he finished placing his baseball cap on.

“Ready?”

Frédérique wiped her hands with the kitchen towel and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“I am now”, she smiled.

They ran for more than an hour, the humidity and exercise damping their clothes and hair. From time to time Frédérique would pick up the pace only to tease Jon, and he’d laugh with his mouth wide open, before she’d let him catch up. She never let what had happened between them take a forefront position in her thoughts - she was never worried that Jon wouldn’t keep his promise, and he had proved that he could. She still didn’t regret what had happened: she knew how much she had appreciated his comfort and attention in a dark hour for her. If there was anything she’d done that night that she had had trouble forgiving herself for doing, was the fact that Jon was married to a woman she deeply admired and cared for, but now she had come to terms with it: that was what the promise was for - what had happened between them had never been meant to happen, and no good could come out of their loved ones ever knowing about it.

Frédérique counted her blessings: not only had she finally been able to settle down (at least partially) in her favorite city in the world, a vibrant city with everything she could every imagine, but was also able to enjoy a house out in the countryside that reminded her of her family house in Bordeaux, a house where to lead a simple and more carefree life with the sweetest, most beautiful and talented man she’d ever met. And she was lucky enough that he had chosen her to share his life, and his friends: she felt also blessed to count Jon amongst her dear friends and to be treated as a part of the family by the other band members and their families. She felt honored by the trust Jon had put in her and her work in the foundation and working shoulder to shoulder with him had been a more than enriching experience. Besides, she had been able to keep practicing architecture and design, taking up interesting projects here and there and was already on her way to achieving quite a reputation in the world of design contest.

Yes, being able to travel the world with one of the best live acts there was did bring a certain amount of excitement to her life, but it only made her admiration for those men grow bigger: she herself couldn’t stand more than two or three nights of shows and after parties in a row. The press, the paparazzi, the fans, the celebrity world (specially the Hollywood one)…it just wasn’t for her, but for Richie she tried her best not to let her discomfort show, and was there to accompany him whenever he asked her to. That’s why she had decided to finally let their relationship come to light even before the construction was over, it was more important to be available and free to be there for Richie when he needed her to be. She was shocked by how excited (even her bosses) were about the news, some of her coworkers confessed they had secretly wished something between them would happen.

Being around Nikki was hard at first, mostly because of Nikki’s attitude, but Frédérique reminded herself that Nikki was a part of Richie’s life, and she trusted him enough not to let it cast any sort of shadow on their relationship. She had even made the effort of listening to their CD a couple of times, trying to make sure that the fact that she didn’t like the final product wasn’t related to a prejudgment. Whatever the reason of her dislike was, anyway, and no matter how many times Richie tried to explain the Eurythmics influence, she just didn’t get the concept.  She was also alright with Nikki being the one in the spotlight with Richie when they presented their collection. In the end, by force of Frédérique’s persistence and patience, Nikki had mellowed down and at least they shared polite conversations. From time to time an item would call Frédérique’s attention and she’d wear it. Richie, in turn, had taken some inspiration from her, creating pieces that were more hippie-ish, far from their usual black leather and lace image.

On their walk back to the house, as he heard Frédérique comment on the book she was reading, Jon pondered how at ease he finally felt after all these months. Behaving hadn’t been easy. At all. But for Richie’s sake, he’d been strong. Maybe during some after party or city tour around a South American city he had gotten a little too “affectionate” towards her - Only a little more than normal, Jesus - and had received one or two “What the fuck?” looks from Richie - or his wife if she was present – and Frédérique was too considerate to make him feel uncomfortable by reprimanding him. He damn knew then that he was stepping on the line, but sometimes he just felt overly confident that no one would notice and that he’d get away with it. Only then did he realize he seriously had to behave. Goddamnit.

That’s when Jon started focusing on how much and how honestly he cared for Frédérique, how much he enjoyed talking to her and being around her. He started to cherish those moments over his humanly desires: he realized that if he ever made her feel uncomfortable, he’d loose her trust forever and therefore loose that friendship and intimacy they shared. He knew that she had only agreed to working in the Foundation because she trusted him and his intentions, and she was really making a difference, he couldn’t risk loosing that, either. Yes, maybe his intentions weren’t the best at first, but they had to be at some point, for everyone’s sake.

They helped each other stretch at the wooden gate of the field and walked towards the reclaimed wood main façade of the house. They climbed the stairs up to the first floor and said their goodbyes with a tight hug: after taking a shower Jon would drive back home to Jersey. Frédérique entered hers and Richie’s bedroom – where he was still sleeping – and Jon entered his to have a shower.

It hadn't been easy, but now Jon felt at peace. Richie was happy. Frédérique was happy. Jon was happy. His wife was happy.

Yes, he’d done the right thing. Everything was as it should have always been before his dick got in the way.