May 6th, 1987 / New Jersey
Richie had dared not speak to Amelia once in the days it'd taken them to pack up and fly back home. His unrelenting grudge and Jon's subsequent distance had made for a rather unceremonious end to such a long and gruelling tour.
Just another thing Amelia was feeling dreadfully guilty for; the crew had worked so hard that year, they deserved more of a celebration than the feuding band mates were willing to participate in.
Her eyes darted from tree to tree as her taxi passed through the greenery. Richie had well and truly shunned her. Not only was it distressing to be so distant from her brother, but it was embarrassing! Word travelled fast that Amelia had been caught in bed with the singer; each time Richie blatantly disregarded her or openly sneered at her, she knew exactly what the surrounding crew members thought of her.
They likely already had questions about the validity of her job. A 'personal assistant', bringing Jon coffee and hot chocolate, and now fucking him on top of it. It was too shameful to bear.
It seemed the only people that didn't think she was a 'whore' were Jon, Spankie, and David. She hoped desperately she could add her parents to the list.
"They're home!" Amelia heard the ecstatic shriek of her mother as soon as she'd slid the key into the door. "Adam, get up, they're home."
The woman was soon hugging the life out of Amelia, smothering her in kisses and 'welcome home's. "Where's your brother?" she asked quickly.
"He's staying with a friend for a couple of days."
"Whatever for?" Joan gasped. "Has something happened?"
"Rich and I had a slight falling out," she admitted ashamedly. "He won't speak to me."
"Poppycock!" she exclaimed, placing her fists on each hip. "Phone your brother and tell him to stop being such a baby. Now is family time, time to celebrate the end of that never-ending tour!"
Joan seemed to take note of Amelia's expression. She touched her daughter's puffy cheek, eyes swimming with concern. "What's the matter, deary? What's happened."
Amelia's hands shook as she lay her backpack and suitcase on the ground. "Nothing," she answered, forcing a flat smile. "I need to talk to you and Daddy."
"Amelia." Joan peered over her glasses, hands firmly settled onto her hips. "What's going on?"
"What's the matter?" Adam now appeared, towering over both women in front of him. "Where's Richard?"
Amelia ordered her family to the living room. She inwardly cursed Jon for having abandoned her at the airport; it would have been a lot easier to have him by her side.
"What's going on?" Adam questioned, sitting forward in his chair. "Why is your knee jouncing like that?"
Amelia steadied the rogue joint with her palm.
"Nothing. There's just something I've been meaning to speak to you both about."
"Then out with it," her father said, "So we can stop this worrying and deal with the situation at hand."
Amelia nodded in agreement.
"Alright then," she muttered, steadying her loose breaths. "Mom, Daddy, I... am in love with somebody."
Her parents expressions didn't alter, aside from a miniscule raising of the brows.
"And that, is what all of this fuss is about?" Adam asked, rather unimpressed. "Was it necessary to worry us like that?"
"Well, don't you want to know who I'm in love with??" she questioned defensively.
"Of course!" Joan squealed, clapping her hands together. "Oh, Adam, don't you dare chide her, isn't this wonderful? Our baby's in love!"
Adam's expression softened. "Of course," he agreed, grasping his wife's hand. "Who is this man, Amelia? And why did you feel the need to announce him in such a theatrical manner?"
Amelia schooled herself into a calm state, forcing herself not to point out the considerable irony in each of their words and demeanours.
"The man in question is Jon," she challenged, daring them to say something in regard to him. "Bon Jovi," she added as an afterthought.
It seemed to click in both her parent's minds why exactly Richie was absent from this discussion.
"Goodness," Joan muttered, a hand quaintly covering her mouth. "And how on earth did that come about?"
"It came about in 1978," Amelia answered sharply. "In high school."
Adam sat forward in his chair, an unnerving recognition settling into his harsh features. "What the deuce do you mean?"
"It's exactly as I say, Daddy."
"Is this some sort of joke?" he asked.
"What part of my demeanour screams joke to you, Daddy? Why do you think Richie won't talk to me?"
"That's an awfully big secret to keep for ten years, Amelia," Joan spoke softly. "Why on earth would you not bring it to light sooner?"
"Mom!" she cried out, "I had no choice! Don't you think that I tried? You and Daddy are bigots! You could never conceive of me marrying a man like Jon, not before Richie made you eat every bad word you'd ever said about 'rockstars'."
"Don't get hysterical," Adam said.
"Hysterical!? I was so in love with him, Daddy, I was so proud of the man he was. He's a good man, gentle and kind and warm and funny and.. and everything you could ever wish for in a husband! But not wealthy.. and he had no aspirations in the medical field or anything of equal propriety. You forbid me from seeing anybody of his social standing, you enforced classism upon me! Upon the man that I loved. And he's far more forgiving than I could ever be, when he speaks of you both he has nothing but love in his heart, and for Richie. How could you be so blind?"
Adam Sambora had never been speechless before that moment. He sat in utter bewilderment in his leather chair, wondering how on earth his young daughter had managed to chastise him so masterfully. He could not have begun to speak.
"I had no idea, Amelia," Joan whispered, "You could have told me, I would have understood."
"No, no you wouldn't," Amelia cried. "I tried to tell you! You only kept me locked away. When I mentioned a boy of his background you took my phone privileges away, you even took my door off its hinges! It was right after school, I was already eighteen and I spent two months under strict supervision. Jon was heartbroken, he thought I'd completely dumped him! Until I showed up to his house one morning and explained the archaic situation in which I was living."
"We didn't want you to get hurt," Joan soothed.
"No, you didn't want a poor man marrying me," Amelia corrected harshly. "I tried so many times to tell you how little I cared for class. I tried to introduce you to Jon using pseudonyms! I rebelled, I ran away, I revolted; nothing seemed to get it into your heads how unhappy I was. You turned a good man away because of the situation he was born into."
"Amelia-"
"No! And then you welcome him as a second son when he makes Richie into a millionaire! Your good opinion of him depended upon his bank account. You made our lives hell for four years! All I wanted was to be with him, to be able to love him without two parents and a brother watching over me like hawks. And now Richie won't speak to me because I've deceived him for so long."
Joan was close to tears. She looked quietly to her husband, hoping that he would supply some comfort or explanation to their daughter. Alas, it appeared both of them were stumped for words.
"I'm sorry," Joan said, her voice tender and heartfelt. "I don't know what to say, Amelia. There's nothing I can say that'll take back how appallingly your father and I have behaved."
"No," Amelia agreed promptly. "But an acknowledgment will go a long way."
Joan and Amelia turned to Adam, waiting for him to speak his much-anticipated opinion on the matter.
"Forgive me," Adam said eventually. "I need a moment to think."
He planted a soothing kiss to his wife's head before departing. Amelia could hardly believe what she was witnessing. An entire heartfelt monologue detailing the hardships of her Shakespearian love story met without verbal response from its recipient?
"Give him time," Joan urged softly, "Your father struggles to be vulnerable."
"He didn't even apologize. Hardly acknowledged anything I said."
"He will," Joan assured. "In time."
The older woman fiddled anxiously with her bracelet. Amelia didn't like to see her mother reel in such a way. Despite her faults she was a kind woman at heart; somebody that she knew loved her more than anything else in the world.
"Do you think.. " Joan trailed off. "Well, that I could hug you?"
Amelia didn't have to think twice before nodding. Joan took a seat beside her daughter, wrapping her in a motherly embrace and squeezing her tight.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered earnestly, pressing her lips to the crown of Amelia's head. "I don't know what else to say."
"I don't want your apologies, Mom. I just want to move on, I want to forget it all."
Joan held Amelia tighter than she had since she was a small girl. She realized rather poignantly how much her daughter had changed over the years without her knowing. Amelia had become so fierce, so confident and so assertive. She'd grown so beautiful and vastly intelligent in such a short space of time. Even the scent of her hair had changed; the way her frame fit into her arms. Her daughter had become a woman, and Joan had failed to notice entirely.
"But," Amelia continued, "I want you to apologize to Jon. You bestowed unfair judgements onto him, he deserves an apology. All he wants is for the Bongiovi and Sambora families to live in harmony."
"I shall grovel at his feet if it means all will be well."
Amelia couldn't help her smile, however small.
"Oh goodness," Joan murmured between kisses to Amelia's hair. "I'm so happy for you. And so proud, but so happy."
"You are?"
"Yes!" Joan exclaimed mightily, cupping her daughter's cheek.
"Love! Amelia. You found love! The most sacred thing on this earth. I believe with all my heart that Jon will look after you."
"He does look after me, Mama. He always has done. I never knew that men like him truly existed, and then I found him.. I knew I could never love anybody else. He was my 'one'."
Tears rolled down Joan Sambora's cheeks. "Your father will be thrilled."
"Do you really think so?"
"Absolutely, my darling. All your father's ever wanted is for you to find somebody who could love you, care for you and provide for you. He'll be thrilled as I am."
"What do you think he's doing?" Amelia asked.
"Oh..." a smirk of amusement touched her mother's lips. "Reeling, brooding.. you know, manly things."
Amelia concealed a snicker.
"I'm sure that he's contemplating an awful lot," Joan said more seriously. "Your father can be so stoic, he makes it so difficult to see his thoughts. He's missed you terribly this past year; I find him looking in old photo albums so often these days. Your father wants to make things right, and yet he struggles to admit that there's a wrong to begin with. You should go speak with him; it'll be good for you two to have a heart to heart."
"Do you think?"
"Yes," Joan squeezed her daughter one last time before standing. "Go. I reckon he's either in the kitchen or the garden."
Joan watched Amelia fondly as she set off to find Adam. She located him in the kitchen, stirring tea by the countertop.
"Hello Daddy," she said, causing him to turn around.
"Sweetheart," he greeted softly, taking a sip of his drink. He was akin to a guilty child, moping around with their head slightly hung.
There was an awkward silence in which Amelia stared at her father unrelentingly. Eventually, he sighed.
"I know that you want some sort of an apology. Truth is there is nothing that I can say to you. No apology is great enough, I cannot undo what has already been done."
"I'm not asking for a magician, Daddy, I just want an acknowledgement. An apology will suffice."
"In that case," he stepped closer to her, "I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart. To you and to Jon."
Amelia nodded slowly. It was small, but it was a start.
"I'm happy that you've found a man like him," he continued to her surprise. "I'm sorry that I judged him unfairly. He's a good man; good heart, humble."
"He is," she agreed.
Adam took a step closer to Amelia. She resembled so much his young wife, eyes full of life and love, brown as the bark of a chestnut tree and round as an adolescent doe's.
He reached out to touch her cheek, then her hair, until finally he pulled her small frame into his arms. Adam had seldom felt so content in an embrace. The feeling was foreign to Amelia, she hadn't hugged her father in perhaps half a decade, aside from a brief embrace upon her departure and return from England.
"My regret is that you felt the need to hide your feelings from me for so long," he murmured in his eternally gravelly voice. The sensation of him running his fingers through her hair was entirely foreign- and not at all unwelcome. "I've been absent from you."
Amelia peered up at him, dainty chin resting on his broad chest. There was a deep longing in his eyes; some fragment of the past that he'd watched sail by.
"I've watched you slip through my fingers time and time again. First you jetted off to England, then took off with Richard. Sweet heavens, I hardly know you anymore."
Again he caressed the baby hairs that sprouted from the top of her head.
"You're all grown up," he sighed. "And I was hardly there to witness it."
"It isn't too late, Daddy," she said softly.
He pulled Amelia's head into the nook of his shoulder and cocooned her tight.
"I can never take back all the things I've missed," Adam began. "Nor the mistakes I made or the pain I caused. Don't blame your mother, sweetheart, she loves you more than the roses love their rain. More than God himself. I was the strict parent, she and I argued over the matter tirelessly. She was only doing what she was taught a good wife should do; to carry out her husbands wishes even if she disagreed with them. All that nonsense is embedded into her from her own parents."
"Why were you so bigoted, Daddy? You made it so difficult to love you. I wanted so terribly to love you but you were so stoic and so stuck in your own ways."
Adam took a moment of introspection.
"Every man thinks his daughter is the most precious girl in the world. You were worthy of nothing less than a Prince. I didn't want you getting your heart broken by these rockstars. No matter how nice he was I always thought that you could do better. I thought could have found somebody equally nice but with the means to look after you. I was a fool, love doesn't work like that."
"No, it doesn't," Amelia seconded.
Adam sighed again.
"I've been a poor excuse of a father," he admitted lowly. "And I know there's nothing I can do to change the past, but I want to be better. I know that I can be, to both you and your brother."
"I know you can, too," Amelia said softly. "And I'm sure you'll be one heck of a grandfather someday."
Adam's chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Oh, darling. Don't spring anything like that on me just yet."
"I won't," she promised. She watched as a smile exceedingly rare bloomed upon her father's features.
"Do you really mean it?" Adam asked, separating himself from Amelia so he could view her face properly. "Are you truly in love with him?"
Amelia's beaming smile was confirmation enough. "Head over heels," she answered ecstatically.
Adam's face was the perfect image of delight. He laughed and tilted her chin upward with his thumb just to see all of her face in the light.
"Then I'm a happy man."
"I never have to doubt his love for me, he wears his heart on his sleeve for everybody to see."
"I don't doubt it, he's a good boy," Adam smiled fondly. "I should like to meet him, again. This time it'll all be different."
"I think he'd like to meet you too- future Daddy-in-law," Amelia grinned, reaching up on her tippy toes to ruffle her father's silver hair. Adam laughed, gathering Amelia into his arms again with a renewed sense of hope.
"Joanie!" he called to the other room. It didn't take long for the woman to appear in the doorway, profoundly touched by the sight of father and daughter embracing. It was a sight she'd long hoped to see again.
"Is everything alright?" she asked. Adam gestured an arm out towards her, pulling her into the embrace as soon as she was within reach.
Amelia couldn't remember a time that all three of them had engaged in a family hug. The implications almost brought tears upon her.
"Why don't you invite Jon over for dinner? Your mother spent all day preparing a family meal."
"Really??"
Amelia's parents shared a love-filled glance at each other.
"Of course!" Joan exclaimed, "And get your idiot brother on the phone. Tell him to stop sulking and come home for a family celebration."
Amelia didn't have to be asked twice. She bounded over to the telephone with a lightness she hadn't felt in years. As she listened to the phone incessantly dial, she witnessed her parents share a small and gentle kiss by the countertop.
Her head and heart each felt ten times lighter.
†††
Amelia rushed to stand up upon hearing the first knock on the door. Outside, she saw a corvette pull into their driveway and a rather cheerful-looking Jon exit the driver's seat.
Adam stood up before Amelia could make it out of the living room. He held a finger to his smirking lips, and then, to Amelia's utmost surprise, he winked.
Who was this man? And what had he done with her emotional-range-of-a-rock father?
Adam opened the door as soon as the doorbell rang. Jon was standing with his hands in his jacket pockets, giddy as a dog chasing its own tail.
That was until he saw the expression on his someday father-in-law's face. His face dropped comically.
"You have some nerve showing up here after what you've done." Adam summoned every ounce of his minacious disposition to deliver his lines.
"I.. " Jon scrambled for words, failing miserably and burning red in the face.
"My daughter should be with a lawyer type! A doctor or a clergyman, not some long-haired scoundrel such as yourself."
Bless Jon, he looked bamboozled enough to cry.
"What you've done is abhorrent, you are her employer. It is twisted and perverted of you to conceive of entering a relationship with her, you should be ashamed!"
"Alright Daddy!" Amelia giggled youthfully. "That's enough."
She bounded down the steps of the porch and delved into her lover's unsuspecting embrace, causing him to stumble back a few steps.
Jon had seldom seen her so liberal, she looked as though she could reach into the sky and seize a cloud.
"Ignore him," she beamed, planting an excitement-filled kiss to his cheek. "He's just being an asshole."
Jon looked back to Adam in astonishment. He'd never seen so much as a hint of amusement on the ordinarily aloof man's features.
His head snapped between Amelia, Adam and Joan. All three of them had luminous smiles plastered across their faces, and all three smiles were directed solely towards him.
Amelia slung her arms around his neck. "What's the matter, baby? Suffering from a little feline muteness?"
"What?" his nose scrunched. Now riddles too?
"Cat got your tongue?" she giggled, supplying his lips with a devoted kiss.
Jon's eyes flared, darting towards Adam half-expecting to see the man charging him. All he found was a gaze of profound fondness.
What on earth had Amelia done to him? He'd often called her magic but never before had he seen such an overt display of her powers.
"I can kiss you?" he murmured in astonishment, surreptitiously glancing toward her parents.
"Well of course you can kiss me, you're my boyfriend!" she gleamed. Jon's face lit up like a firework. He kissed her passionately, securing her in his arms and even dipping her slightly.
He only stopped when he heard footsteps approach him. His head whipped up to the source of the sound, fearing Adam had had a change of heart.
"Richard!" Joan greeted somewhat nervously. Richie heaved his suitcase and guitar through the front door, sneering at the romantic display he'd been forced to witness.
"Hello, Mom," he said softly, kissing her hair. He briefly shook his father's hand before disappearing inside.
Amelia struggled to hide her disappointment. She had hoped that Richie's anger would've quelled somewhat.
"C'mon," Amelia said, conjuring a brand-new smile. "I'll show you my childhood bedroom."
Amelia's bedroom was the only room, bar the master bedroom, that Jon hadn't visited in the Sambora house. He'd tried to catch a glimpse of it on numerous occasions, hoping for a small insight into Amelia's childhood, but it had always remained locked.
He was surprised to find that the walls were painted purple, though mostly covered with old rock n' roll posters. A queen-sized bed adorned with lilac curtains sat in the corner. Jon could only smile, of course there would be nothing less ornate for the Sambora's little princess.
"What do you think?" Amelia asked, gesturing to the spacious room.
"I think it suits you. All nice and fancy."
He flew off the bed upon taking a seat, touching his butt as though he'd just been electrocuted.
"What's wrong?" she giggled. "Haven't you ever seen a waterbed?"
"No." He flopped down on the mattress, smirking as it slushed around beneath his weight. "Cool! Gotta get myself one of these."
Jon rested his arms on the numerous pillows, cushions and plushies all lined up across her bed, living out his teenage dream of sneaking into her room.
"Oh, look at that," he reached across to the bedside cabinet and picked up a mustard yellow telephone. "This what you used to call me on?"
She nodded.
Jon put the phone to his ear. "Oh, hey Jonny baby!" He lifted one knee up over his other thigh and grasped at his hypothetical 'boobs'. "Oh Jonny," he cried in a piercingly high voice, writhing around on the bed. "I miss you, baby!"
Amelia snatched the phone and slammed it back in its holder. "Knock it off," she snickered.
"What, don't you like my impression?"
"Not in the slightest. And get off Mr. Snugglemuffin, you're crushing him."
"Mister what now?"
Jon moved his arms and uncovered a large, round plushie.
"Snugglemuffin. My father gave him to me when I was born."
"Mr. Snugglemuffin looks like he's seen better days," Jon noted grimly at the frayed, discoloured fabric.
"You just watch yourself," Amelia warned, snatching the plushie and placing him at a point of pride on her dresser. "I've been with Mr. Snugglemuffin long before you came along."
"You mean I'm in competition with that old thing?"
"Be careful what you call old, Jon. He's been around for only as long as me."
"I see," Jon snickered. "I'm seein' a whole new side to you today, darlin'. I never took you as someone that sleeps with plushies every night."
"I don't. I store them behind my bed. Mom digs them out and lays them back out on my bed each time I go away."
Jon couldn't hide his smile. "You'll have to introduce me to all of 'em someday."
He sat up again and started to rummage through her bedside drawers.
"Hey, stay out of there. That's my underwear drawer."
Jon held up a red lace bra, smirking at the see-through mesh.
"I'm surprised your father lets you keep stuff like that in the house," he smirked, thumbing the thin fabric.
"My father would be far too embarrassed to ever bring up the topic of my underwear. Besides, I can do my own laundry."
"Any panties to go with it?" He rooted around in her drawers again.
"It isn't polite to snoop through a woman's underwear, you know?"
"Oh, check these," he dangled a pair of leather panties. "Look at you, you could be a dominatrix in those."
"Spankie made me buy those when we went shopping together. They were horrifically uncomfortable, I shall not be wearing them."
"Shame," he pouted, throwing them across the room.
"Jon, it's been two minutes and you're already making a mess."
"Hey, what's this?"
He pulled out a book that'd been stashed at the back of her underwear drawer. Amelia's dived toward him, reaching desperately for the small book. "Give me that."
"What is it?" he stood and held it out of her grasp, flicking through the pages.
"Jon, give it back," she demanded with a desperation he scarcely heard from her.
"Oh, a diary!" he chuckled upon discovery. "Let's see what dirty little things you've been writing about me, shall we?"
"No!" she shouted, jumping in an attempt to snatch her property.
"Hmm. Dear Diary," he recounted in a girly voice, causing Amelia to shrink in defeat. "Today was my second date with John... although I learned now that his friends call him Johnny, which is kind of cute. He took me to the funfair... yada ya, we shared a toffee apple and he won a penguin plushie for me.. but he has to keep it at his place so Mommy and Daddy don't suspect. Blah blah, yada yada, oh! He even put his hand up my skirt and touched my butt!"
"That's enough!" Amelia cried, "If your objective is to humiliate me, you succeeded long ago."
"Humiliate?" he ruffled her hair, "It's all in good fun, sweetheart. It's adorable."
"It's embarrassing."
"You're too prideful," Jon sighed lovingly, tapping the book on her head. "You really don't want me to read it? I'm only kiddin' around with you, baby. I thought it was sweet."
"It's humiliating to have your innermost thoughts read out loud," she muttered, taking the book back into her possession. She flicked through it fondly, admiring all of the tiny polaroids and little doodles she'd drawn of Jon, none of which were any good.
"I'll read some to you if you like," she compromised, "I just can't have you reading any of the sex stuff.. it'd be too degrading."
"Whatever you say sweetheart," he smiled, laying back on her bed with his hands beneath his head. "Read me a bedtime story."
"Alright."
She flicked through a few more entries, ruling a number of them out due to their sexual nature. "Would you like me to read you the final entry?"
"Final entry? When was that?" Jon questioned nonchalantly.
"December 5th, 1983."
Jon sat up on his elbows. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Read me that."
Amelia smoothed the buckled page with her palm and prepared to read.
"Dear Diary. John is leaving me."
"Succinct," Jon noted grimly.
"He told me last night in the park. His record company wants him to tour their new album, soon to be released. Runaway is doing remarkably in the charts and they want to capitalize on its growing success."
"So he's leaving. He'll go to Japan to tour and won't get a substantial break for the best part of a year. He can't possibly afford to take me with him; I worry for him immensely. He has no money at all, even with the record company I fear he'll have nothing. He's worked so hard these past few years just to keep us afloat, but even with all his gigging he hardly has a dime to his name."
"It scares me to think of him across the world in territory he's unfamiliar with, partially destitute. I know that his hotels will be paid for by the company but I can't help thinking it'll be the bare minimum."
"He asked me to wait for him. I said no at first. Nothing is the same on the phone or in letters, but by the end of the night I couldn't possibly have denied him, at least not to his face."
"I don't know what to do. It'll be difficult to stay in contact with him while he remains in Japan and other countries across the world. I have my Burger King job and he'll be living in a completely different time zone. He'll be out there living his dream and I'll be stuck here in my bedroom probably still crying over him. I can't imagine he'll think much of me on the road; I know how much he loves me but I'm sure there'll be plenty of women there to distract him."
"And that's another thing. I trust him, I really do, but I know what rockstars are like. John loves women as much as the rest of them do, I know that he's going to stray and I don't blame him."
"He's going to be a star, I just know it. People will love him from all around the world. He has the voice, the charisma, and most certainly the looks required. I'm sure at some point he won't remember me."
"I'm heartbroken. He's all I've ever known, every milestone I've ever surpassed has been with him. He was my first date, first kiss, first boyfriend, my first sexual encounter... my first everything, really. I can't imagine doing that all again with someone else."
"I was so angry at him last night. I thought he was going to marry me. I was naïve enough to think that somehow we'd just end up together as husband and wife, but the reality is that our relationship has been doomed from the get-go."
"And it feels like I'm not just breaking up with him, but that I'm losing an entire family too. Carol and John are far closer to me than my own parents ever were. Especially Carol... I'll miss her dreadfully when John's gone. I'll miss them all. Poor Matthew won't understand it when I stop visiting, he loves when I bring him assorted trading cards and little gifts I found in Richie's old drawers. Seeing John be such a great big brother often made me excited to see him with our own children."
"And now I feel like a fool. In what world would I have married and settled down with the same man I was with when I was eighteen? It's not a common occurrence. Everybody warned me it wouldn't work out, I should have listened."
"But then again I would never have changed a thing. These past four years have been the greatest of my life. I adore him, if I died now I'd feel content to have lived such a full and free life with him. In a sense I feel that I already have married him, which in a weird way also makes this feel like a divorce."
"I'm thinking about finally taking up my degree now that he's leaving. I think it'll be good for me to study, perhaps even abroad. I've been thinking about England. I want to get out of the country and get away from Jersey. It all reminds me so much of these past few years. I want to start a new life."
"I think this will be the last time I ever write to you. I know my most recent entries have been few and far between, but in a strange way I'll miss you. I'm leaving you behind just like I'm leaving everything else behind. You, Jersey, John, my parents. All of it."
"So farewell, I suppose. It feels strange to say to an inanimate object, I suppose, but thank you for being there for me. Between my brother and my parents I didn't have much else to confide in."
Fin.
Amelia closed the book shut. Her poor self had penned that entry in a sea of tears three and a half years ago. Jon reached for the diary and opened it to its final pages, admiring the neat, cursive writing that perched perfectly on each line. There was a small photograph of Jon loosely taped to the page beneath Amelia's final goodbyes. A simple polaroid of him smiling, nothing more. She'd captioned it 'rockstar' in red marker, a small heart scribbled beside it.
He felt like he was peering into a time capsule, even wishing that he'd documented his own thoughts and feelings on that dreadful day.
Amelia tended to display her affection through actions, not words. Seeing everything written out so clearly and eloquently had touched the very bottom of Jon's beating heart.
"I love you, my darlin'," he spoke softly, swallowing back a few tears of the past. "Thank you for reading that to me."
She scooted over and snuggled up beside him. For the first time in the course of their relationship she was able to cuddle him in her own bed. Jon put the diary to the side and encompassed Amelia wholly. He didn't need to cling desperately to their past anymore; he had her in the present.
"Amelia!" Just as the pair had settled into a relaxing snuggle Joan came knocking on their door. "Jon!"
Jon started to remove himself and his limbs from their embrace. Amelia placed a gentle hand on his thigh and shook her head. "I'm not hiding it anymore," she whispered, kissing him sweetly.
"Yes Mom?"
Joan pushed the door open just a little, smiling at the sight of young love.
"Jon, Adam would like to speak to you."
"Oh dear," his face blanked, "Am I in trouble, Mrs. S?"
"Not at all dear. Amelia, why don't you help your me and your brother plate up the food."
Amelia felt no apprehension upon leaving Jon and her father in a room alone together. Instead, she was anxious to see Richie.
"Mr. S," Jon greeted, closing the living room door behind him.
"Jon. Have a seat."
He did so dutifully. He didn't share Amelia's comfort in the situation.
"Is there a problem, Mr. S?" he questioned politely, making sure that his frayed denim jacket was as straight as possible. If he'd had a little more notice he would've dressed much smarter.
"No, no problem at all."
Adam sat down in the chair directly opposite Jon. Jon wondered if he knew and perhaps even enjoyed how menacing he was. Despite being only marginally smaller in frame, Jon felt like a helpless little boy beneath Adam's scrutiny.
"So then," he announced, "You and Amelia. It's not a match that I would have anticipated. Is it true that the two of you have been connected since school?"
"Yes, Sir. Since senior year."
"I see," Adam nodded. "She speaks very fondly of you, you tell me you are equally fond of her?"
"I can't live without her, Mr. S," he answered, "She's the muse behind all my best work."
Adam seemed satisfied with his response.
"What is this 'Mr. S' that you call me. You know my name. It is my wish that we should be friends."
Jon's eyebrows flew beneath his fringe. "Uh- yeah, sure. I like friends."
The elder smiled in amusement, then clapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself to stand. "So then!" he announced, circling the small area in front of Jon's interrogation chair. "I owe you a great apology."
"Sir? Uh, Adam?"
Adam's brow piqued. "Do you disagree?"
"No," Jon stumbled. "I mean, I don't know, I wasn't expecting it."
Adam stood tall, hands behind back. "On behalf of my wife and I, I apologize for having previously bestowed unjust judgements unto you. Joan and I each hold a great affection for you, we were happy to learn of your relationship."
"Oh," Jon muttered, a picture of surprise, "Really?"
Adam's face held no amusement at the boy's bamboozlement. "Yes," he said, pausing his pacing. "Can you think of any man more worthy of my daughter's affection?" Jon gazed up idly. Was it a trick question?
Adam rolled his eyes, grabbing Jon by the shoulders and hoisting him upward.
"You do love her, don't you?" he questioned, shaking the boy slightly.
"Yes.." Jon replied in confusion before realizing. "Yes!"
Adam again seemed satisfied.
"Then, that is good enough for me."
His grip went lax.
"And if it is true, that you and Amelia have been romantically tied for as long as you say, then I presume it won't be too long before you ask for my daughter's hand in marriage."
Jon's eyes flared wildly. Marriage? Adam Sambora was asking him about marriage?
"I uh.." He hadn't planned any wedding.. a wedding in his current situation would surely mean hell for his band. "Well, sure," he answered, "Someday, when all our lives have calmed down a little."
"You would ask for her hand in marriage?"
"Yeah, of course," he responded with more confidence.
"Well then you shall have it," Adam smiled.
"I will?" He couldn't contain his goofy grin.
"Yes," the elder assured. "I can't think of any man more deserving of my daughter. A man capable of the patience and understanding that you have displayed is surely a good man in my book."
"Thank you," Jon said, gleaming with pride.
Adam reached for his future son-in-law's hand and gave it a firm shake. "She loves you. Look after her."
"You got it, Sir," Jon grinned, his typical confidence restored.
"Splendid. Shall we rejoin society, then?"
"Absolutely! I haven't eaten since before the flight," Jon announced, hand on his stomach.
Amelia was quick to greet Jon in the kitchen. "Everything alright? Dinner's served."
"Everythin's just wonderful, darlin'," he grinned broadly, pulling out Amelia's chair for her.
"You know," Joan smiled gently, "It isn't customary for couples to sit adjacent to each other at the table, but I'll allow it on this occasion."
Jon happily took his seat.
"This looks beautiful, Mrs. S. Didn't anybody ever tell you that you could've been a chef?"
"Oh, Jon!" she exclaimed happily. "You are entirely too charming. And please, call me Joan."
Adam led a small prayer at the head of the table before tucking into his plate of roast beef.
Notably, Richie hadn't spoken a word.
"So then," Adam started, "Jon, why don't you recount the story of how you and Amelia first met?"
"Sure," he smiled cheerfully, reaching for Amelia's hand beneath the table. "We met in history class. The only seat available when she transferred was next to me. The only reason I passed the class was 'cause she let me copy her answers."
"He's smarter than he gives himself credit for," Amelia smiled, nudging Jon affectionately with her elbow. "You just never applied yourself, dear."
"I applied myself in music," he grinned, "And it's a good thing I did."
"Oh yes!" Amelia exclaimed. "He used to come to school after playing in the bars all night. He used sunglasses to conceal the horrendous bags beneath his eyes."
"She became talk o' the school soon as she transferred. Everybody wanted her, people couldn't believe their eyes when they saw her walkin' around with a nobody like me. I knew she was a nice girl but I still thought she'd laugh at me when I asked her out. You can't imagine how stupid I must've looked gawping when she said yes."
"Oh, tell us more," Joan clapped excitedly. "It's like a fairy tale! Isn't it lovely, Adam? Richard?"
"Just peachy," Richie mumbled, eyes not leaving his plate.
Jon continued to recount the tale of their relationship unfazed. Richie couldn't ruin his happiness in that moment with his childish tantrums.
"Goodness, it all fits like a puzzle," Joan gasped in response to Jon's telling of their first break up. "How on earth did you rekindle? And when, tell us everything."
The couple shared a glance of amusement.
"I gave him the cold shoulder for a while after my return," explained Amelia, "I had to punish him for his radio silence after running off on me."
"And how long did that punishment last?" Richie asked daringly, laying down his fork.
"Up until last month, Richard," she answered assertively, "I finally realized what an asshole I was being, pardon my language."
"Asshole to who, exactly?"
"To Jon. He'd been asking to take me on a date ever since I returned from England, I finally gave my head a shake and accepted his gracious offer."
"And then what happened? Where did he take you?" Joan asked before her son could interject.
"To dinner. We had a heart to heart, it was sort of love at first sight all over again. Ever since then I've been fretting about how to tell you. I wanted to tell you, I just didn't know how."
"Any fuckin' way is better than wal-"
"Richie, come on man, stop it," Jon sighed, putting his cutlery down. The words seemed to spark a fire in Richie.
"No!" he shouted, slamming his palms on the table. "Why is everybody suddenly acting as if this is okay? Like it's normal for your best friend to be getting with your sister behind your back."
"Well, from the sounds of it Richard they've known each other long before you ever knew Jon," Joan reasoned.
"Stay out of it, Mom, you don't know the half of it.
"Richard," Adam reprimanded sharply. "That's enough. Try to be adult about the situation, would you?"
"Don't 'Richard' me. How does it make you feel? Mom? Dad? You think your daughter's found a good n' respectable job workin' for the company but really she's been getting' fucked by her boss."
"Richard!" Adam's face paled in anger. "I said that is enough. Don't talk about your sister that way."
"I bet he fucked you real good, didn't he?" Richie smiled contemptuously. "Real fuckin' good. That Jonny, oh yeah, he's a great lay. Top tier fuckin' lay."
"Richard Stephen-"
"You know that's how I found out? Millie didn't think to tell brother dearest that she'd landed herself a boyfriend. No, I walked in on them both fucking in spoiled sheets."
Adam stood, white knuckles resting on the table as he stared mercilessly at his only son. The blank expression was almost worse than red hot rage; even Amelia trembled despite not being the recipient.
"That is it, Richard," he explained quickly. "Get out of my house. You will not be welcome under this roof until you remember that expressions of such vulgarity are forbidden, never mind when they're being used against your sister."
The chair made a shrill screech as Richie stood up. His hand batted a half full glass of wine onto the laminate floor, smashing it to pieces. "Yeah, whatever."
"Richie, wait!" Amelia chased after him.
The Sambora parents couldn't help but take immense pity on the young singer. He lay down his fork, looking rather crestfallen as he listened to brother and sister engage in a screaming battle, followed by a slam of the door.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I should probably go."
"Go?" Amelia questioned, out of breath having just returned from her argument.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"But you haven't even finished dinner! And we have so much to talk about still, we were having such a good time."
Jon stood and tucked his chair in. He moved over to Amelia, pressing a kiss to her frazzled head and smoothing her frizzy hair. "I think it's best I go," he repeated quietly, forcing a rather flat smile.
"But- but no!" she shouted rather petulantly. "Stay. Please?"
"I'm gonna go find Richie," Jon said, cupping her head between his hands and tenderly kissing the spot between her brows.
"Then I'll come with you."
"No, you stay here darlin'."
"I'm coming with you!" she demanded, trying to slip past him through the doorway. Jon's grasp on her waist was too strong.
"Stay with your parents," he ordered softly, "They'll take care of you."
"Yes dear, we can play scrabble-"
"I don't want to play scrabble!" She yelled at her mother. "I want my brother and my boyfriend to fucking get along."
"Shh," Jon cooed, wrapping her in his arms. Amelia melted in exhaustion, whining into her boyfriend's chest.
"Why does nothing ever seem to go right for us, Jon?"
He smiled tenderly.
"It'll get better, Princess. I promise." He patted her head lightly. "Now stay here, I'm gonna go find your brother and bring him home."
On his way out, Jon kissed Joan's cheek and thanked her for the wonderful meal. Adam had long since gone back to eating.
Amelia collapsed back down in her chair, careful of the glass shards decorating the floor courtesy of Richie. She buried her face into her arms and heaved a great big sigh.
"Oh dear," Joan cooed, massaging Amelia's shoulders behind her. She pulled her daughters thick, layered hair out of her face and began to braid it into a fishtail. "Don't worry about your brother, he'll come round in a few days."
So everybody kept saying.
“I’m surprised you didn’t make more of a fuss about everything Richie said,” Amelia mumbled dejectedly.
Why did her brother have to be such an asshole? Was his objective to humiliate her?
“Oh dear, I came to expect it,” Joan smiled. “I was forced to come to terms with that fact that my children weren’t going to be virgins on their wedding nights as soon as your brother decided he was going to be a rockstar.”
Amelia would rather have delved into a black hole than have her sex life discussed while her father was in the vicinity. Again, she pressed her face against the table.
“I’ve learned that you’ve been brought up in a different world to your father and me. I don’t want religion to be a point of contention anymore. I love my children know matter what, I’m sick of this great divide between us. As is your father.”
“Joanie, come away from there. There’s glass on the floor,” Adam interrupted.
She shuffled aside as ordered. All things considered, the atmosphere had turned rather sour. Amelia turned her head to the side so her cheek rested on the table.
“What did you think, Papa,” she asked quietly. “Of Jon. I know you’ve met him before but today was different.”
Adam pushed his plate aside and smiled. “I like him very much, and I think that Richie needs to give his head a rattle and realize how thankful he should be that you’ve found a respectable man like him. Which he will, in time.”
“You exiled him, Daddy,” she stifled a giggle.
“I did, didn’t I? I’ll rescind my banishment soon enough, dear.”
The house was dead silent for three more hours. The three of them managed to play four games of scrabble, anxiously awaiting the boys’ return. Amelia grew jittery, her head turned at every car she heard drive past the house.
What could possibly have postponed their return for this long? Had they engaged in a row? Gotten lost? Reconciled their differences and gotten drunk together?
She hoped the latter.
It was somewhere close to midnight by the time she heard keys rattling outside the door. It took multiple attempts and a string of curses, but with great effort Richie managed to stumble through the door.
“Richie!” Amelia cried, watching him tumble over in his inebriated state.
Richie pivoted back on the doorstep, leaning over into one of his mother’s flowerbeds and heaving up the liquid contents of his stomach.
The three sober Samboras grimaced in disgust.
“Where’s Jon?” Amelia asked.
Richie’s nose scrunched in contempt.
“Where is he, Richie?” Amelia took a step forward. “He said he’d bring you home.”
“I dunno,” the guitarist shrugged, toppling through the doorway. “Said he went home.”
So he had found him, then.
“I thought I said that you weren’t to come back here,” Adam said.
Glazed eyes looked down at the hands prohibiting him from entering his home.
“Get the fuck off of me.”
“Adam, move aside,” Joan said softly, “Let our son in the house, he’s drunk.”
Mr Sambora knew better than to argue with his wife on matters pertaining to their children.
Richie tumbled through the hallway like a bull in a china shop, eventually landing on the couch face-first.
“I’m going to find him,” Amelia said, throwing on the first jacket on the hanger. It happened to be her mother’s fur coat.
“Don’t be rash,” her father chided. “You aren’t going out there in the middle of the night.”
“But Daddy-“
He held his hand up to her face, then smiled. “I’ll drive you. Joanie, make sure our idiot son doesn’t choke on his own vomit.”
“Yes dear. You drive safe now.”
Adam gave his wife a small hug and kiss, then steered his daughter in the direction of the Mercedes awaiting them outside.
---
Sorry for the long wait :/ I've been so busy recently.
But I loved writing this chapter, it's nice to explore Amelia's family dynamic for once as opposed to Jon's. More of that in the coming chapters :)
I suppose this is a bit of a cliffhanger 😂 I'll try to have the next chapter out fairly soon, hang tight.
As always, let me know your thoughts in the comments 💖