Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  My mom is gorgeous. She has dark hair, and brown skin. My grandfather is Creek Indian, and she inherited his hair, skin tone, and high cheekbones. She is my father’s biggest fan, and she adores the man. She’s always enabled and encouraged Koi and I to chase our dreams. She bought instruments, lessons, and anything else we wanted as kids to help. She chauffeured us all around town and I never once remember her taking a day off from being mom. She cooked us breakfast before school every morning. I mean eggs, bacon, pancakes, and biscuits type of breakfast. Our lunches were always packed with whatever we requested that morning, and dinner was always on the table by six. She came to every parent/teacher conference and was the president of the PTO my entire school career. She took us to Girl and Boy Scouts, church, fundraisers, and made a picnic every Sunday. Sunday was always family day, and we spent it at the pond fishing with a picnic. When it turned cold, family day would turn indoors, and we played board games and watched movies. She is the ideal American soccer mom, with rock star children.

  My dad is a hippie. He has shoulder length blonde hair, and tattoos cover his arms. He has stormy blue eyes like my own, lean and tall, and is a kind man, with a quiet nature. He has been a guitar player most of his life, and he always understood our fervor in music. My dad is an amazing guitar player, and just as good as my grandfather. I was not blessed with his patience or his ability to shrug things off when they hurt. My dad taught me to ride a bike, play the guitar, fish, and kick my brother’s ass. He believes in feminism and it was important that I learned how to defend myself at a young age. He and my mother still don’t agree on this subject.

  Today they both looked defeated. I know they worry about me, but this can’t all be about Jagger and me. I need to make sure they aren’t carrying my burden.

  I approach mom in the kitchen. “Hey. What’s up with you and dad?”

  “Oh nothing honey; just a little stressed over the holiday and worried about you.”

  She’s not making eye contact.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Jagger’s company before I got on the plane?” I ask softly.

  “I fought with it. If you found out she would be on the plane, you may be delayed in coming home. I needed to see you’re okay. I couldn’t wait any longer. I am sorry. Apparently, Claudia has no family and has nowhere to spend Christmas. If Jagger had cheated on you, I wouldn’t have allowed this, but since that is not the case, I will not allow someone to spend Christmas alone. We can all be cordial and polite for a few hours over the next several days.”

  Now that just pisses me off, I am not twelve-years-old.

  “I understand you are a giver. You help people when they are down and out, but this girl is not someone who should’ve been invited here without someone asking how I fucking felt about it!” I yell.

  My dad appears from around the corner, “What the hell, Hen?”

  “What you too, dad? Nobody thought to ask me if I want to spend my fucking Christmas with Jagger’s baby mama. No one gives a shit how I feel. He isn’t even with her! She might be carrying his love child, but that is a big maybe from what Jagger says. She is not a part of this family, or the extended family we have built over the last few decades with our friends. She doesn’t get to encroach on my territory, and smile like life is all fucking great, when it ISN’T!” I scream.

  “Now, Hen. The girl had nowhere to spend Christmas. Had Jagger not been involved in this situation you would have been all for the girl spending the holidays with us,” dad says.

  “But Jagger is involved in this situation, and not one of you have stopped and thought about that! Thanks for having my back. A baby doesn’t make the situation pretty or cute and cuddly. It fucking hurts!” I yell as I walk out and slam the door with all my might.

  Fuck this. I can tell by that conversation that everyone feels sorry for her, and I am not willing to compete for fucking sympathy because she fucked Jagger and made a baby with him. Fuck them both. I’m not going to the gathering on the 26th. I won’t do that shit to myself. I won’t pretend to smile and be happy while everyone dotes on Jagger’s maybe baby.

  I exit my parent’s driveway at 3 p.m. with Cash in tow and drive home to load up my fishing gear. Once I pack the gear and beer I drive down to the pond. The pond sits on my grandfather’s land, but it is out of view from his home. Each of us has our own entrances from our own houses, there is a floating dock built on my end, and it’s kept tied and stationary when I’m not using it. I have the brush trimmed back routinely to keep down snakes and bugs and keep a small gazebo and a swinging hammock bed on my end of the large pond. I like it outdoors.

  I unload the back of my car onto the floating dock, throw the paddle on, jump onto it, untie it, and paddle into the water. With legs crossed, I try to find meditation. I focus on the sound of the water and nature, on my breathing, and seem lighter with each breath. I continue my breathing exercise and ask the universe all the questions that have flowed through my mind for so many days. I focus on the questions and search for understanding.

  My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of water moving. I open my eyes and realize it is already dark. I can’t see who is rowing towards me, but I see the lantern on the small boat.

  “I was checking to see if you were going to stay out here all night? It’s getting cold,” my grandfather says.

  “Yeah. I just got lost in thought I guess. I didn’t realize how cold it had gotten.”

  “When your heart is heavy, nothing else seems to matter I don’t guess.”

  “You hit the nail on the head Granddaddy. I will be okay though.”

  “You will. You always are, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Let me see that mutt,” he smiles.

  My grandfather loves puppies. He likes them as much as he likes babies. I hand Cash over to him when he ties his boat off to my dock. He holds him up and smiles big.

  “Well, why don’t you look at that? He is a purty little thing. What’d ya name him?”

  “Cash. He barked at a Johnny Cash song the first night I had him, and Kip stopped and played the song over and over again. Each time he stopped the song, Cash kept barking, and wouldn’t stop when he played the music again. Uncle Kip thinks he is Johnny Cash reincarnated.”

  “That Kip is something else, but he might be on to something. Johnny always liked animals. Had a damn pet ostrich one time. Damnest thing I ever seen.”

  We both break into laughter, because you would just have to have known the man in black for yourself, he had a huge personality.

  My grandfather is friends with the original bad boys of country music. He wrote songs for them, recorded and produced albums, and played as a session guitarist from time to time. I remember seeing him in my grandfather’s studio when I was young. He had the deepest voice, and it can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. His voice, both spoken and sung, had its own personality and character. The two caught Caleb and I smoking pot for the first time as teenagers and let’s just say they do not handle such situations in an orthodox manner.

  “Well, I’ll take this puppy back up to the house. You get the dock back over to your end, and I will pick you up on the cart. Your Grandmamma made cookies, and I think we should take care of them so no one else has to eat them,” he chuckles.

  I row my dock to my side of the pond, and by the time I arrive my grandfather is waiting on me with Cash asleep in his lap. I climb aboard the golf cart and ride to my grandparent’s home, which holds so many of my favorite childhood memories. I sit at their round kitchen table that must be older than me. Granddaddy pours us some milk, and we eat half the batch. My grandmother has already lain down for the evening, so I enjoy my grandfather and the puppy. After cookies, he wraps Cash in a blanket and we warm ourselves in front of the big stone fireplace. He built it himself when my mom was a little girl. It’s beautiful, and presently holds stockings and Christmas ornaments.

  “How ya feeling, Sug’?” Granddaddy asks.
/>
  “About Jagger?” I ask and he nods.

  I shrug. “It hurts that’s for sure. It doesn’t seem like there is enough room for all of us in a relationship right now. He slept with her before we dated, but he should’ve told me. I also don’t appreciate my family inviting her to my Christmas. I don’t want her in my Christmas memories if I can help it. The wounds are still fresh, and salt keeps getting poured in them. Maybe I don’t have a right to feel that way.”

  “You most certainly do. I tried to tell your mama and Beth Carlyle that it was not a good idea. The women around this place seem to think that him not cheating on you excuses this whole mess. I am not saying the boy shouldn’t be forgiven, I just don’t think now is the right time to deal with this. It is too soon to bring this girl into our homes, and I told them that. They don’t listen to a damn thing I say, Sug’’. All I am good for is writing songs and pickin’ a guitar.”

  “You are not! You’re good for many things: fishing, dog sitter, guitar lessons, building swings, building tree houses, building studios, telling Kip he is an idiot, insight, wisdom, and most importantly love. You can be a quiet man, so people think you don’t see and hear. You don’t fool me old man, the quiet means you are taking it all in, and you don’t miss a damn thing.”

  “Yup. Can’t tell the women in this family a damn thing though. Excluding.”

  “Of course!”

  “Do you think you would’ve dated him if he had told you in the beginning?”

  “I’ve thought about the answer to that question so many times. I certainly wouldn’t be angry with Jag, but I’m not sure if I would’ve jumped in a relationship. I would’ve been a friend and supported him for sure. I didn’t get to decide for myself, and it makes me angry.”

  “I imagine it makes it pretty difficult to imagine what your reaction would’ve been since your heart hurts so much now. Everything is a bit grey with a broken heart.”

  “Makes for damn good songs though.”

  “That they do, Sug’.”

  “You and that boy have had... how do I say this…feelings for each other since you were kids. Think that would’ve had any bearing on your decision?”

  “I am sure it would’ve. I am sure the struggle would have never resolved itself until I was with him. Do you think he is doing the right thing by sticking by her until he finds out if it is his?”

  “I think he is doing the right thing by attending what doctor’s appointments he can and paying medical expenses and for anything else she needs. I think Christmas is going overboard.”

  “Thank you for taking how I feel into consideration.”

  “Sug’, it ain’t hard to try to see how somebody else is feeling. Just imagine being in their shoes for a few minutes. If it hurts to do that, then their hurt is magnified much more than that. Your mama and daddy shoulda known better.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Lot you don’t know darlin’. It ain’t my place to say it, but I will say your mama and daddy didn’t have it easy in the beginning, and I am just disappointed they put you in this position. You don’t have to be around that girl and don’t let nobody tell you any different. No matter what decision been made in Georgia, not a damn soul blames you for taking yourself out of harm's way. You don’t go to the gathering on the 26th, this old man’ll be here right beside you. I don’t want to see a damn groupie any more than you do.”

  Chapter 7

  Henley

  Christmas Eve is quiet with just my grandparents and immediate family. We open presents on Christmas Day, but gather on Christmas Eve for eggnog, cider, and cookies. Koi and I always stay at our parent’s house for Christmas. I go to bed at midnight, but my phone interrupts my sleep. I see Samantha has text.

  Samantha: She is lying.

  Me: Huh?

  Samantha: Claudia is lying. She has family. She wasn’t going to spend Christmas alone. Her parents live in Boston where she is supposed to be right now, and she has a brother and sister-in-law in Vegas. The bitch is lying.

  Me: Shit.

  Samantha: I knew I didn’t like her. Who the fuck doesn’t like Kip? That told me she was a cunt muffin.

  Me: You telling Jag?

  Samantha: At some point. You coming the 26th?

  Me: I haven’t decided.

  Samantha: No one will blame you if you don’t come, but I want you to keep something in mind when you make your decision. If she lied about Christmas then she still has hopes Jagger will be with her. She made sure she was invited to Georgia to keep an eye on you and Jagger. If it were me, I wouldn’t let the lying bitch win. I would show up and smile and laugh the entire time. It will make her miserable.

  Me: Food for thought.

  Samantha: Sweet dreams.

  Me: You too.

  ***

  Jagger

  “Do you think she will show up?” Claudia asks with disdain in her voice.

  “She, as in, Henley?” I ask knowing damn well she can’t stand the sound of Hen’s name.

  She rubs her belly in the dramatic way she does when she wants to remind me I may be the father of her child. I’m still not sure how she convinced my mother to invite her to Christmas. This is killing me, and I know it’s killing Henley. All I want to do is hold her in bed, open presents, and play with her new puppy. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together as a couple.

  “You know damn well who I’m referring to, Jagger,” she says as she rolls her eyes at me.

  She acts as though I am supposed to tip toe around her, and that would require me to never speak of Henley. That will not happen.

  “I think you have forgotten your place, Claudia. See, we are in Georgia. If it weren’t for Henley, I might not be a musician. If it weren’t for her, the festivities of today wouldn’t be occurring. Hell, if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t want to get your hooks so far in my ass. Don’t put her down again in my presence. If you don’t like when she is spoken about take your ass into another room.”

  I march out of my parent’s living room, and out the back deck of their home. I wish I had one wish so I could use it to make all this Claudia shit go away. I’d be inside of Henley right now, showing her just how much I need her. I need her so fucking much I can’t breathe. I wonder where she is and if she is okay with every second that passes. She consumes me, and she doesn’t have a damn clue.

  I find myself in my father’s workshop and quickstep it towards his four-wheeler. I need to get out of here.

  “You okay, son?” my father says from behind me.

  I run my hands through my hair, and turn on my heel to face him. I let a deep sigh escape me and plead with my father to make my mistakes right. It isn’t possible, but I need some sliver of hope to hold on to.

  “Son?” he asks, voice full of concern for me.

  “I miss her, Dad.”

  “I imagine you do. I couldn’t imagine being with a woman like that. Your mom… we’ve been at this a long time, and she’s wonderful. She’s a damn good woman, and even after all these years, I’m still in love with her. Henley is a different breed of woman though. Hell, she’s a different breed of human altogether,” he points out.

  “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know. I’ve loved her for so long. I had the chance to tell her how I feel, only to see what I didn’t see for many years. The woman has always loved me back. I jumped on the only chance I thought I might ever have with her, and I fucked up bad. I was just… I’m not sure what the fuck I was trying to do anymore.”

  “You were trying to make the best of a situation you aren’t sure you’ve found yourself in, and that’s understandable. You didn’t want to throw away a chance with Henley when this might not even be your baby. Son, I can honestly say, few men who would’ve made a different decision if faced with your dilemma. She’s a helluva a woman,” he smiles.

  My father has had a crush on her since it wasn’t creepy to do so. Even though he’s kno
wn her more than half of her life, he sees what we all do. She’s the most amazing chick you will ever meet. I had her in my arms and in my heart, and I fucked up. She may never let me back in.

  “So what are you going to do about Claudia?” dad asks.

  I shrug because I have no fucking idea.

  “I’ll tell you what I think. Your mother was wrong to invite her. The thought of a grandchild overshadowed any other rational thoughts she could’ve had. It was wrong, nevertheless. She wasn’t thinking about you or Henley, and it isn’t fair to either of you,” he says with disappointment in his voice for my mother.

  “You should’ve seen her face when she bumped into me outside the baby store back in Cali. I broke her fucking heart. It was written all over her face. I tried so hard to touch her, hold her, and just make it better. I made her cry instead. Claudia was a first class bitch, and I… just don’t know how to make this better. I’m so lost on how to make this right with Hen.”

  “Something about this Claudia doesn’t sit right with me son. You need to watch your back. Girl’s got dollar signs in her eyes. She’s out to better herself and doesn’t give a damn about you. She’ll hurt anyone she has to in the process. I don’t like the girl in my house, and I sure as hell don’t like knowing Henley might not come to this Christmas gathering today because she’s there. That girl should not have control over any of our lives like that. God help us if that is your child, son.”

  “I know. I know, Dad.”

  I ditch the idea of taking off on the four-wheeler, opting instead to spend time with my father in his shop until time to meet at Red’s house. I stay as far away from the leech that is Claudia. I try to shove the worry I have over Henley’s potential absence from tonight’s events. Maybe I should excuse myself so she doesn’t have to miss the tradition she started, but I am too damn selfish to give her that much. I just want to see her. It won’t do her any good, but just breathing the same air she does will somehow soothe the bitterness I keep attempting to swallow down.