132 - That Certain Party

“So, we’re gonna take you out for a bachelor party tomorrow night,” Richie was saying to Jon, long legs kicked out from his chair in front of the television. 

He and the boys were taking turns playing Guitar Hero on the PS3, and the little scamps were having an absolute blast kicking Uncle Mookie's butt.   Initially, Petey had believed he was letting them win, but the more he complained about it not being anything like ‘real’ music, the more she thought they were legitimately trouncing him.

Romeo’s messy head swiveled around from the television screen, where the notes of ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man” were rolling by Jake in a flurry of primary colors.  “What’s a bachelor?”

“A guy who isn’t married,” Jesse supplied from the armchair at the other side of the room, looking up from his iPad.  The cries of birds could be heard as they were hurled across the screen.

The littlest Bongiovi’s eyes lit with interest.  “I’m not married.  I wanna go to the party.”

“You’re too little to go,” Stephanie told him, shifting on the couch, fingers pausing over the text message she was sending.  “They’re only for grownups.”

When Romeo was prepared to throw a fit, Jon held up a peacekeeping hand from his position in the center of the sofa.  “Whoa.  There won’t be a bachelor party, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Rich wanted to know, forehead wrinkling.  “I’ve already talked to a bunch of the guys, and they’ve all given their RSVPs.  I was even thinking about calling Papa B and inviting him.”

Would it be awkward for Jon to have his father at his bachelor party?  She couldn’t begin to fathom the hijinks that a group of veteran rock stars could create when given half a chance.  But then again, maybe it was all old hat to the senior Bongiovi.   

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, man, but we’ve got dinner scheduled with Petey’s parents and – “ He glanced over to where she sat in the floor, a question on his face.  “Are your brothers coming?”

She shook her head.  “I think it will just be Henry.  Andre and Chris will both make it for the ceremony, but not before.”

“Yeah, so…”  Jon lifted a regretful shoulder to his buddy.  “Bachelor party is out.”

He was saying the right words, and Petey appreciated that, but she also didn’t miss the disappointment that flickered over his features.  He deserved a night out with his friends, free of her baggage.  It would do him good to get away from it for a while.

“Richie has already made the plans.  We can make it all fit,” she professed with an encouraging nod.   “My parents and Henry are flying into Newark before noon, and it’s just the three of them, therefore no big deal to juggle the time.  Early dinner, say five o’clock, and then you guys are free to go.”  Pivoting her attention to Richie, she asked, “Will that work?”

“That’ll work,” Richie confirmed with a wink of approval.

“You sure?”  Jon was hopeful, but reservedly so.  If she knew nothing else, Petey knew the man would never shirk his responsibilities in the name of fun. 

“Of course.  I might ask you to take my step-dad and Henry with you, but I’m not going to begrudge you an evening away from the insanity.”  She gave him a cheeky grin.  “Even if you’re just trading it in for a different kind of insanity.”

“I wanna go, too,” Romeo chimed in now that it seemed as though the party was back on.

Stephanie once again interrupted her texting, repeating, “No, Romeo.  You’re too little.”

“No I’m not,” he insisted.  “Daddy calls me a big guy all the time.  Right, Daddy?”

Imploring dark eyes, so different from the rest of his children, but just like his mother’s, pinned Jon to the wall.  Fortunately, his best friend didn’t leave him pinned there for long, casually remarking, “Ya know Jon, you never asked where we were going.”

“You’re right.”  Jon’s brow lifted with interest.  “So where we going?”

“Asbury Park.  More specifically, Asbury Lanes.”

“A bowling alley?”  That sounded like an odd place for that kind of event – in Petey’s mind anyway.  Did they let strippers into bowling alleys?  It’s New Jersey and it’s Bon Jovi.  Anything probably goes.  Nonetheless…  “It doesn’t sound like much of a bachelor party.”

“Bowling!”  Jake and Romeo completely abandoned their game and joined forces, combining their efforts with each clutching at one of Jon’s shoulders.  “We wanna go!  Please, please, please!”

“It was Lemma’s suggestion,” Richie supplied in explanation for the party locale.  “We used to go bowling a lot, but we haven’t had one of our infamous lane parties for a long while now.”

Jon’s index finger pointed resolutely at Petey.  “Lemma.  Remind me to tell you something important about him after this.”

“What?  His tendency toward inappropriate humor in mixed company?” Richie asked drolly, before adopting an effeminate lisp.  “Or hith hair problemth in humid climateth?”

Stephanie and Jesse both tittered their amusement without diverting any attention from their respective electronic tasks, their laughter harmonizing perfectly with Petey’s husky laugh in Jon’s ears.  He was able to do nothing more than affect faux glare at Richie before his youngest piped up again. 

“Da-aaad!” they each demanded relentlessly, Romey climbing his thigh to cling to his back like an excitable monkey.  “We wanna go bowling!  Take us!” 

What the hell is wrong with them tonight?

“Hey!”  Out came his scary dad voice, which was sure to get their attention.  “You know better than to act like little beggars. Your mama would have your hide if she heard you whining around like you never get anything.  Straighten up and act like you were raised by humans instead of wolves.”

The sharply bitten words had their intended effect and both youngsters disentangled themselves immediately, coming to stand before him like little soldiers.  Each muttered a contrite, “Yes sir.”

Jake, however, couldn’t keep himself from tacking on, “But can we go?”

“Lord, God, Jesus,” their father muttered.  “Be quiet and stand still.”

Jon carefully inspected each boys face, his own a mask of disapproval that was something akin to a G-rated stink eye.  He didn't speak for long minutes, but when the boys repentantly lowered their heads, he let Petey see his lips twitch with amusement.

“I don't see why not,” he relented at last.  “Jess you wanna go too?” He raised his voice to be heard over the slapping of palms as the two little ones exchanged victorious high fives.

“I dunno.” The teen didn't seem impressed with the invitation, and swiveled around so that his back was propped against one chair arm and his legs dangled over the other. “It'll just be a bunch of old guys and the two hooligans.  I’ll probably just stay home and play fantasy football online.” 

“Hey!”  Richie drew himself up, insulted. “Who you callin old, Boy?   I prefer to think of it as experienced.   And that experience landed me dates with two different women this week. How many dates did you have?  Hmmm?”

“Your assistant doesn't count,” Jesse informed him with a roll of the eyes. “And I had a date. She's even coming to the wedding.  Do you have a date for the wedding?”

Thumbing his nose at his oldest ‘nephew’, Richie grumbled, “Yeah well don't screw it up there, Junior.”

Jon held up a hand, chin dropping to his chest with a groan.  ”Please.  Don't give my kid dating tips, okay?  Dottie will kill you and me both.”

Reverting his attention back to Jesse, he resumed the task at hand, “As for you…  Obviously, I’m not gonna make you go, but if this gig is in Asbury I bet Rich has invited Southside.”

Southside Johnny was a dear old friend, and the older man was just off the wall and screw-the-world enough to appeal to Jesse’s small, but prominent, rebellious streak.

Youthful blue eyes lit at Uncle Mookie’s nod of confirmation, and a lopsided grin came into play.  It was a complete contradiction to his bored,  “I guess I can go.  If you want me to.”

“Well. Everyone's going to be there, it sounds,” Petey sniffed. “Instead of sitting home alone.  I think I'll call Gavin and see if he wants to get together and do something.  At the very least he could arrange a spa day.  Night.”

“Didn’t you just have a spa day?  Today, as a matter of fact?” Jon pointed out disparagingly.  “I never pictured you as a high-maintenance girl, Sugar.  I may need to revamp my opinion.”

“Oh good grief, Jon.  It’s the eve of my wedding.  That doesn’t get me cleared for an extra coat of toe polish?”

Busted for being a prick in a No Pricking Zone.  Way to pick a fight, Bongiovi.

He immediately surrendered himself, hands held out and turning his head slightly away in atonement.  “Sorry.  Don’t mind me.  I’m but a mere heterosexual man.  Paint whatever you want as often as you want.  Who am I to judge?”

Stephanie was following the exchange with interest, giving Petey an idea. 

The poor girl has been left completely out since all the boys are going bowling. I wonder how Dorothea would feel…

“Thank you, I will.  Depending on what we decide to get into, do you think Dorothea might let Steph join us?  Or want to come herself?  I know that's peculiar....”

Jon snorted. “Yeah, but Dottie would love Gavin.  We’ll run it by her when she gets back, but I don't think it will be a problem for Steph to hang out with you for the evening.  That cool with you darling daughter?”

Her cornflower irises were sparkling when she asked, “Is Gavin cute?”

“Gavin's beautiful,” Jon’s fiancee assured Steph with a tight, smug smile. “He's quite possibly the prettiest man I’ve ever met.”

“Hey now…”  Gavin wasn’t that pretty.  Of course, he wasn’t into guys, so that might taint his judgment a little.  Still, shouldn’t the woman he was about to marry think that he was the prettiest man she’d ever met?  It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.  Women spouted – especially reporters – that shit about him all the time.  “Being spa-impaired shouldn’t get me pushed down your list of hot men.”

Damn little imp thinks it’s funny, too.

Jon looked toward his guitarist, immediately aware that Petey wasn’t the only one who found it funny.

“Jon.”  He suddenly realized that he didn’t like Petey spending time with Steph.  She adopted that long-suffering teen sigh way too easily.  “I didn’t say hot.  I said pretty.  You’re way too masculine to be pretty.”  

“Doesn’t stop the rest of ‘em from saying it.  I’ve been called pretty more times than I can count.”

Violet eyes smoldered with something that was being censored for the benefit of their young viewers.  He was seriously going to have to find out what she wasn’t saying.  Later.  Right now, she’d already moved on.

“So what’s important about David?”

Nice change of subject.

“He’s licensed to officiate wedding ceremonies.”

“What?  Why in the world….?”

The girl may think she was friends with Lemma, but she had no idea as to the depths of his depravity and desire to come out on top.  Chuckling quietly, he deferred to his wing man.  “Rich, I think you know that story better than I do.”

“Um.”  Richie shifted his designer denim-clad butt in the chair as though it had suddenly turned to hard stone beneath him.  “Long story short, he’s psychotic.”

“Oh you have to give me more than that,” Petey protested. 

Good girl.  Don’t let him off that easy.

“Tell her, Rich.”  Jon’s grin was that of Satan incarnate.  Richie absolutely hated this story, and he knew it.  If he hadn’t known it the subtle Jersey salute that got thrown at him would have been a pretty good clue.

“You suck, man.” 

Four pairs of young Bongiovi eyes were intently watching the exchange, so Jon knew Richie wasn’t going to say too much, but it limited what he could say, too.

“Just tell the story.”

“Gah.”  He ran a palm over his mussed brown hair, mussing it even further.  “There was a…. girl that Lemma was trying to set me up with.  A not particularly nice or pretty girl.”

“She was ugly as homemade sin with a personality like Cujo,” Jon supplied helpfully.  This story was classic Jovi.  “But she was a friend of Lemma’s family, so he was obligated to get Richie to go out with her at least once.  He was also trying to get back at Rich for sticking him with the less attractive of a pair of sisters the week before.”

“Anyway, I told him that, Jew or not, he would be an ordained minister before I’d go out with the girl.”

“And within a week, Lemma had completed the paperwork and mail correspondence to be an ordained minister, forcing Richie to go out with the girl.”  Laughter rippled through the room, and even Richie was forced to offer up a rueful smile.  “He reminded me when I talked to him today…” Jon gave Petey a heated glance, their desktop dalliances fresh in his mind.  She had interrupted that call in a most pleasant way. “…that he keeps it current.  That means, if we can’t find anybody else, Lemma could perform the ceremony for us.”

“First of all, remind me never to put a challenge in front of David.”  She bemusedly shook her head, as though unable to believe grown men did such things.  Sometimes Jon couldn’t believe it either, but put five grown men together and it was possible to get the combined mentality of three teenagers.  “I’d love for him to do the ceremony, if he can behave himself.”

Jon and Richie exchanged a look.

“Baby, I don’t know about behaving, but with a black wedding dress and skull ties, isn’t it already going to be an event to remember?  Might as well go all in.  Right?”

Next chapter will post on Sunday, July 8