Not This Time

Jon: February 3, 1985

     I took Dorothea out to Coney Island because we hadn't been out in what felt like forever. Tour had taken me away from her for more than a year and then when we got back, we went straight into writing. I could tell she was trying not to feel neglected. I smiled at her as she swung our hands between us.
     "Having fun?" I asked her quietly. She smiled up at me and leaned her head against my shoulder. 
     "This is nice," she answered, "I missed you."
     We strolled through the game stands again, looking over the few games we hadn't already played this afternoon. I glanced over at the bear Dotty and I had competed in the ring toss for. She'd won, of course. I wasn't good at games.
     "Let's go watch the waves," Dorothea suggested. I smiled at her.
     "Our spot?"
     "Duh," she replied. I gave her a kiss on her cheek, put an arm around her shoulder, and steered her toward the beach. When we got onto the sand, she let go of me, still clutching her bear, and ran toward the waves. I followed her with a smirk. She led me to our spot underneath the pier.
     When I came around the side of the pier, Dorothea was sitting on the rocks. She smiled at me and patted the rock next to her. I sat down, stretching my legs out, and leaned over to kiss her. It made me wish I had my own place instead of sharing one with the band. I wanted to make up for the year I was gone.
     Dorothea pulled away from me and smiled. "We're not doing this here," she whispered.
     "Alright, fine," I snickered, leaning back and facing the ocean. The spray from the waves blew over us. It smelled like seaweed. I looked over at her and watched the wind blow her hair all over the place. She petted the bear absently as she watched the waves roll up and tumble over themselves.
     "How's the writing?" Dorothea asked, not looking at me.
     I shrugged. "It's alright," I said. I didn't necessarily want to talk about it. I didn't want this to be about work. I wanted it to be about us, even if that just meant sitting in silence. We used to be able to do that comfortably. Something was wrong if she wasn't comfortable anymore.
     "Everything okay?" I asked after a moment of awkward silence.
     Dorothea nodded and looked over at me with an unconvincing smile. I frowned and nudged her playfully.
     "Come on," I coaxed.
     "I don't want you to go on tour again," she finally said. I pulled away and turned to her. I hadn't been expecting that. She frowned over at me. "Sorry," she muttered, "I didn't mean it like that. I know it's what you've always wanted, it's just.." She trailed off for a moment and bit her lip, looking down at her bear. "I don't think I could take it again."
     "What do you mean?" I asked, shaking my head.
     She frowned a little. "Not only was I lonely all the time, but the thought of women all over the world clawing at each other just to touch your shoe, or your jacket.." She trailed off again and shook her head.
     I smirked. Oh. "Are you jealous?"
     "It's ridiculous, Jon," she scoffed, "You're always away with other girls, partying and drinking, and who knows what else. Yeah, I'm a little jealous."
     I smiled a little more and pulled her toward me. "Aw, Dotty, you don't have anything to be jealous of. Those chicks ain't got nothin' on you." I leaned over and grinned at her. She didn't smile back. I sat up, letting my smile fall, and sighed, "Is that what this is really about?"
     She looked out at the waves. "How do I know you'll come back?"
     "What do you mean? I've already come back. My home is here. It's just tour."
     "Are you back, Jon?" she grumbled, looking back at me seriously, "Things aren't the same. You're writing all the time. We hardly spend any time together anymore."
     "What are we doing right now, Dotty?" I retorted, starting to get a little defensive.
     "Yeah," she growled back, "For the first time since you came back from tour, it's finally just the two of us! Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent with families, and New Year's we went to a party." She paused for a second and shook her head some more. "We're never alone, Jon!"
     I shook my head too. "Well, what am I supposed to do, Dotty? This is me trying."
     What was I supposed to do? This was my life now, my dream. She knew this was what I was aiming for when she started dating me. She knew how important this was to me. It's not that I was trying to ignore her, but there was so much work yet to be done that I just couldn't ignore either. She had to know I couldn't give this up.
     Dorothea shook her head too, hugging her bear, and stood. "Come on," she mumbled, "Let's just go home."
     With a frustrated sigh, I watched her step over my legs and back up the beach. I rolled my eyes and got up to follow her. She was being dramatic. Maybe I hadn't called her enough, but I'd explained the long distance fee situation. What else could this be? I just didn't understand.
     After a long silent walk up the beach and back to my dad's pickup, I got in and leaned over to unlock her door. She climbed into her seat without so much as a glance in my direction. I started the truck, backed out of the parking spot, and started on our way home. The radio was the only noise other than the sounds of the road.
     "I told you what a big break would mean for me," I reminded her gently as I drove, "So why did you agree to be with me if you knew what it would be like?"
     Dorothea didn't respond for a minute. I stole a glance at her to find her playing with the bear's bow tie as she thought. Finally, she took a deep breath and answered me.
     "When Bobby and I broke up, he told me he was going away and that he would probably be stationed somewhere far away after he finished boot camp," she explained, "Then you came along with that sweet little song you wrote about me and I thought even if you left, at least you would get back at some point." She paused and shrugged. "But even when you're home, you're not here. You're at Richie's or David's house working on something, or you're thinking about what's next to do. When do I get my Johnny back?"
     I looked over at her for a half a minute. "Babe, you know me," I sighed, "I can't just sit still when there's work to be done."
     "When you're with me, that's sitting still?" she snapped.
     "Don't twist my words," I bit back, "You know that's not what I meant."
     She scoffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over the bear in her lap.
     I glanced at her and decided it was safe to go on. "I'm not where I want to be with my music," I told her, "The first album didn't take off like I wanted it to, and I want to do everything I can to get it right this time. If I don't work on it and work on it, I can't get better, and then nothing will get better for us."
     "We were fine before," Dorothea said.
     I shook my head. "Dotty, this is my life now. I can't go back to the way it was before. I've outgrown Sayreville. We both knew I was always going to."
     Dorothea shook her head and leaned on the window as my words weighed down the already tense air between us. We rode for the next forty-five minutes in relative silence until buildings started looking familiar and I no longer needed street names to navigate. The sun was already sinking into the horizon when I pulled into her neighborhood. I glanced over at her. She was still staring out the window like she'd been doing the whole way home. I turned onto her street and pulled over in front of her house.
     "We're here," I muttered, turning off the engine and unbuckling my seatbelt. I watched her unbuckle her seatbelt, but she didn't make a move to get out. "Dotty," I tried, but she cut me off.
     "I've been thinking about it, Jon," she said quietly. When she looked up at me, her face was straight, if not a little sad. That was concerning. She took a deep breath and went on. "I'm out. I don't want your life. I'm probably holding you back at this point anyway."
     "Dotty, don't say that," I tried again.
     "Because," she continued, "I don't want to be here forever worrying about not being able to be there if you get hurt, or about the possibility of you falling for someone else on the road. I don't want to have to worry like that."
     "Then don't!" I sighed, "Dotty, it's really that simple! You don't have to worry about anything." I shook my head and looked her dead in the eye. "I love you. I'm not going to fall in love with some groupie just because she wanted me to fuck her."
     "It wouldn't be some groupie, probably," she replied begrudgingly, "It would probably be another celebrity you met at a party or an interview."
     I narrowed my eyes and dropped my shoulders. Oh, that's what this was about. Really? I shook my head. "So this is really about Diane?" I scoffed.
     "Not necessarily her, no," she snapped, "But she's the likely candidate."
     She frowned when I turned away from her. I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face, exasperated. I couldn't believe that she was making this into a big deal. So I met an attractive actress, what of it? I'd met a lot of people on tour.
     "There's nothing happening between Diane and me," I told her slowly.
     "Why don't you make something happen then?" she suggested as she opened her door and slid out onto the pavement, "Since you're free now, I mean. I've already said it, I don't want your life." She stood there, still holding the bear. I frowned at its cheerful smile, so out of place in this situation. When I looked back up at her, she was shaking her head. "I'll be here, looking for someone who hasn't outgrown New Jersey."
     "Come on, that's not what I said," I protested.
     "Whatever," she scoffed, "Have fun on tour, but don't call me. I'm done with this." I started to say something else, but the truck door slamming shut was enough to stop whatever thought was coming. What the fuck had just happened? I stared at the truck door for a minute as she walked around the front of the truck toward her house. Hold on a minute!
     I pushed open my door and jumped out of the truck, not even bothering to shut the door as I stopped her in the street. "Hold on," I said, shaking my head, "That's it?" She nodded. "What are you doing this for?"
     She frowned at me. "I can't have what I want and give you what you want, too."
     "I want you," I interrupted, putting my hands on her shoulders. She shook her head.
     "You want fame, Jon," she corrected, "You've always wanted to be a big star and do exactly what you're doing now.." She blinked a couple times, I think  to keep from crying. "It's just not for me, Jon. I'm not happy."
     "Tell me what I can do," I begged. She paused. I appreciated that she was genuinely thinking about it. After a minute or so, she shook her head and shrugged. 
     "I don't know," she said, "There's nothing you can do and still work like you have been." She looked up at me and bit her lip. Her voice cracked just a little when she added, "I've got to take care of myself, now."
     I brought my hands up to either side of her head and leaned my forehead against hers. "Let me take care of you," I whispered. I couldn't trust my own voice. I didn't want to lose her. Dorothea gently pulled my hands away from her face and shook her head sadly. She took a deep breath as she dropped her eyes again.
     "Thank you for taking me out today," she said weakly, looking up at me but obviously distrusting her own voice as well, "It was fun." She leaned forward and kissed my cheek before backing away from me again. "Bye," she muttered, stepping around me and retreating into her house.
     I didn't turn to watch her go. I stared at the place on the ground where she'd been standing. Then I looked up at the stars that were starting to peek through the fading light of day. I looked back down at my dad's pickup truck sitting there with the driver side door standing open. Nothing seemed real.
     I stalked back over to the truck and slammed the door shut once I was inside. I started the engine and pulled away from the curb just as a couple hot tears managed to escape. I wiped them away quickly, trying to focus on the road. Taking deep breaths, I managed to keep my emotions at bay until I got back to my parents' home.
     I shut the engine off, leaned forward on the steering wheel, and cried.