All our lives

Chapter 29

He had toyed with the rope, trying to create those moving pictures from what Dot had told him and then pin them, for the rest of the flight. But, no matter how real and vivid he imagined those events, the photos stubbornly refused to take their place on the rope. It was all in vain. He should have concentrated on the existing ones, few as they were, and got out of there. But he hadn't even looked at them. Not once. By the time the plane had hit the tarmac with its screeching wheels, he was so sleepy that he couldn't do it, even if he wanted to. Or so he had lied to himself while the Uber car carried them through the night to Dot's and Bobby's house.

A pointless lie, as deep down he knew he would not do anything in the morning either. Or in the afternoon, for the matter. There was something strangely alluring about this nonsensical universe, something he didn't understand and couldn't quite name. It was more than simple curiosity that kept him there, that was for sure.

So there was no real surprise, other than the intended one, that he was now standing next to an overwhelmed and stunned Richie, surrounded by their families and friends - most of whom he had easily identified. Seeing the beaming smile on Richie's face, he felt that the chaos and gloom the next circles would probably include would be well worth it. He hadn't seen the man so happy in years.

"You... you... you..." Richie babbled, shaking a finger at Jon.

Jon simply grinned in response. And then Richie's tone changed to serious. Accusing.

"You!"

Jon froze for a second.

"Are you out of your mind?! You made her fly here in her condition?!" Richie gestured towards Thea's round belly.

"Moumoush..." Thea interfered quickly, chirping amused.

"You mean Mouk..." Jon started. "Oh... " it dawned on him. Moumoush resembled Louloush, the name displayed when he had answered Richie's phone. When he had thought she was one of Sambora's bimbos, not his daughter. Their daughter! "Louloush and Moumoush", he giggled mentally. That was nice. Corny, yet nice. "Do you really think there was something I could have said or done to stop her?" Jon was equally quick to raise an inquiring eyebrow at Richie.

Richie seemed to actually look for an answer for a moment.

"And do you think a big belly would stop me from being here, on this unique occasion?" Thea smiled and opened her arms to hug Richie.

"Yeah... I wonder who she took that from," Richie mumbled, unconvincingly upset, whilst carefully hugging her. "Are you okay? Where's that French husband of yours?"

"And why did he let me go?" Thea completed Richie's interrogation with a short giggle. "Oh, Pop, you're so not you when you worry for nothing. I have Dad for this kind of shit!" Thea kindly reminded him.

"Hey!" Jon protested.

"Jean-Luc will be here tomorrow. His foreman, apparently, is an imbécile," she said that last word with a lovely and quite ironic French accent, rolling her eyes. "So he had to stay behind a little bit longer".

The foreign pronunciation reminded Jon of Denbora and her Spanish tirade - she had called him an imbecile with a cute accent also - and made him wonder where the hell those Time girls were.

But his curiosity didn't last much as something else had taken hold of Jon. Hate. Ok, not really hate. More like animosity. A fatherly grudge. Jon almost instantly despised that fancy named Jean-Luc. What kind of man leaves his pregnant wife alone, when she's so close to the term? All his inner voices, not one single exception, slapped him with a mute and sarcastic 'Really?!' He ignored them and kept his animosity towards his son-in-law to himself. To hell with what this Jon, or Richie, really thought of him. The guy was definitely an imbécile and that was that.