Chapter 91: New Digs

We had a wonderful snack and a great visit at Nanna’s. Assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins were called, and we had a great reunion. David was still pleasantly shocked by the vastness of my family, and at how easily assimilated he was into the group. Everyone was laughing and joking, and it was a bit reluctantly that we left.

Nanna packed us a goody bag that would make a five-star chef jealous! We had two coolers full of amazing food. I couldn’t wait to get it unloaded into the fridge – David had already told me it was practically empty. John and the guys would drop off the coolers off to Nanna on their way back to Boston tomorrow.

The caravan continued on to David’s – I mean our – house, and we made really good time. I know, I know: I’ve got to get used to calling it our house; but shit, gimme a break. I was starting to relax, and had forgotten all about Jon’s warning until we made that last turn.

When we pulled into the driveway, I saw them. At least a dozen people, just lying in wait. Vans and cars were strewn about the side yard, which was really annoying. They were trespassing on private property. I’d be well within my rights to shoot them, and had a fleeting vision of wielding the .50-cal at them. I never would, but the looks on their faces would be worth whatever wrath it would incur in Jon. Shit, if there were this many here, I could only imagine what Lucy was going through. We pulled up as close to the house as we could, but they were blocking the driveway somewhat. David took my hand. “Hath, are you ready for this? All you have to do is look straight ahead, and keep moving.”

I took a shaky breath. “I’m as ready as I can be, I guess,” I answered. I mean, really, how does one prepare for this? This is SO foreign to me; I can’t even begin to describe it. “Let me check on John.” I called my brother’s cell. “You ready for this, bro? You guys just head for the house. Stick close behind us, and don’t even look at them.”

“Got it. We’re ready, sis.”

David and I exited the car. Hands clasped, we aimed for the house, John and the others right behind us. The shouted questions were loud and impertinent, and I don’t know how David was able to block them out.

“Do you drive drunk, too?”

“Are you kicking Richie out of the band?”

“Will you cancel the tour?”

“Is he going to go to jail?”

And on and on they went, not caring that we were ignoring them. I was quite proud of the way I was doing my job; I kept my eyes on the front door and just kept walking. Once we got close enough to them, they got a good look at my face. Yeah, ‘oh shit’ indeed.

One shit stain on the underpants of humanity took one look at my face and started asking questions that took me by surprise.

“Hey Jenilee, why do you stay with someone who beats you?”

“David, what’d she do to piss you off?”

“Did you beat April too? Is that why she left you?”

I was totally prepared for the Richie stuff, but not the personal attack. I turned to the person that asked the question and said, "excuse me?" in my best pissed-off Goddess tone. Swear to God, I didn't mean to talk to him, and David yanked on my hand to get me moving into the house. John was behind me pushing, because without them, I wouldn’t be moving.

I was shocked. I mean, did they not know these guys yet? They are not hitters. Never have been. David whisked me away so quickly, I didn’t even hear the questions being repeated. He was muttering under his breath, and I think I heard him say “fucking going to kill Richie” then we were in the house. John and his friends slammed the door behind them loud enough to shake the windows in their frames. David threw his keys at the hall table, and swooped me into his arms, hugging me close for a moment before letting me go.

“Jesus Jen,” Ed said. “What the fuck was all that about?” He and Kirk didn’t really know what was going on. They weren’t fans of the band, and entertainment news ranks somewhere below the Lifetime Movie Network on things they watch on TV. John explained to them what had happened, and why the reporters were out there.

“Jen, are you alright?” John asked, turning to me. He was seething, I could tell. His color was almost as high as mine, and the look in his eyes said he was out for blood.

“I’m fine,” I said through a tightly clenched jaw.

“You are not ‘fine’,” David said. “You are good and pissed off. So am I. John,” he said to my brother. “Can you set them straight without getting baited? If I go out there, I won’t be able to keep my cool. I’m serious as a heart attack about this.”

“Hell yeah I can,” he said. He took the ponytail holders out of his ass-length hair and shook it out, the waves going wild around his shoulders and face. Next, he took off the flannel shirt he was wearing so it was just his wife-beater shirt, his tattoo-covered arms flexing with agitation. He lit a Marlboro, shoved on his shades, and headed outside. He looked scary as anything, and if I didn’t know he was a big ol’ teddy bear underneath, I’d cross the street to avoid walking past him. Though he shut the door behind him, I could still hear him. He’s loud, like me.

“Pay attention ya fuckiz, I’m only sayin’ this once,” was his opening shot, and incredibly, I laughed. God, I love my brother. I heard him say, “Jen was in a train crash this week, and is a fuckin’ hero. Check out the Bahstin papahs, you ass-lickin’ vulchiz.” And he came back inside.

I threw myself at him, and hugged him tight. “I love you,” I said to my baby bro. I looked up and he had tears in his eyes. My tougher-than-shoe-leather, pierced and tattooed brother had tears in his baby browns.

“I love you too, Jen,” he said. “Say the word, and I’ll go beat the shit out of as many as I can. They hurt you. No way they get away with that.”

“We’ll help,” Ed and Kirk said instantly, stepping up behind John. I was touched by their loyalty, and hugged each one in turn.

David laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, that would not be a good idea guys. Better to just ignore them. They’re idiots and have no idea what they’re saying. They’ll get bored and move on.” David turned to me and put his arms around me. After kissing me tenderly, and gently framing my cut and bruised face with his hands, he said, “Believe me, I’d be right out there swinging with your brothers, but that’s what they want. They want a reaction like that.” He kissed me again. “Don’t listen to them, baby.”

Just like that, their stupid questions were back in my brain, and I was back into my full on mad. How the hell could they say those things? I mean, I don’t understand how they would even consider it, never mind say it out loud! I was furious. “I need a minute,” I growled, and I stalked from the room muttering to myself. David started to follow me, but John stopped him.

“It’s bettah to just let her be,” he said, putting a restraining hand on David’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve evah seen her this mad befoe-ah, there’s no telling what she’ll do or say.”

David shook him off. “She’s upset,” he said. “I need to at least try to talk to her.”

John just shook his head. “Good luck with that,” he said, and his friends laughed. They went to the window and looked out. The crowd out there showed no sign of leaving. John looked at his friends. He waited until David had left the room. “Want to have some fun?”

“What kind of fun?” Ed asked.

John just gave him an evil smile. “Get David’s keys and move the cah. Kirk, you’re with me. We need to unpack Jen’s shit.”

The trio went outside. As the door opened, the vultures roused, but when they saw it was just these three, they settled back down. John cleared his throat, and his deep voice carried across on the breeze. “Ya bahstids may want ta watch out,” he said, thickening his Claven. “I gotta swing that truck around so we can unpack and ya cahs ah in da way.” He smiled. “I sure would hate to smahsh one of them with the truck.”

Ed moved David’s car around to the back of the house while John and Kirk climbed up into the truck. John gave the horn a long blow, and just aimed for the closest car. He laughed gleefully when the reporter dropped is camera and sprinted for the driver’s door. He managed to pull out of the way just moments before John would have crashed him.

I lapped the house, stalking from room to room muttering to myself. I’d storm into a room, look around, and storm out; stomping down the hall to the next room. I went to a window when I heard a horn blow, and I burst out laughing. I saw the truck making a wide swing and narrowly miss colliding with a van. I silently egged him on, all but begging him to smash something. When he didn’t I continued my stalk-and-glare tour of the house. David caught up with me in the office, where I was venting on the boards. I didn’t trust my voice to hold strong on the phone, so here I was.

Ang suggested I go down to the studio (where it’s soundproofed) and scream myself hoarse. Letting out the anger would make me feel better, she said. Maybe. I looked up to see David in the doorway. “What?” I threw at him. If my tone of voice could have leveled injury, David’d be writhing on the floor in pain. I didn’t want to lash out at him, but dammit, he should have left me alone.