Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  “He’s not broken though,” I say.

  “No?”

  “No. He’s got some shit he’s got to work through, but time is all he needs. And he needs us to respect his space and boundaries during that time. When you spend so many of your developmental years yearning for two people to love you, I don’t know… maybe that shit will always be ingrained in you. Even in death, maybe Kip will always long for Gary to be proud of him or hell even smile at him. Lord knows I never saw him smile.”

  “He’ll be a better husband and father for it. He’ll be so afraid of being his dad he’ll most likely go to extremes with his love. Of course, I’ve always known Kip to go to extremes with most things,” Koi states.

  “Extreme is his middle name,” I muse.

  “He loves you. I’m okay with that, Hen. I just want you both to be happy. I spent some time thinking about you two while I was on the plane and when I got home. I thought about what you two are like. If I’m honest, I’ve always been jealous you can be so fucking crazy with him. Even before you two hooked up, it’s like any ability you have to give a fuck about social constraints or what someone else thought goes right out the door. We all deserve to have someone we can escape the world with together, so we’re not alone.”

  “You’ve always had an open invitation to be stupid with us,” I smile.

  “Not like you two. I came to the conclusion last night when I saw Kip look at you in his bedroom that I couldn’t pick a better man to love my sister. Because when life is good and you’re together you drink with 1% bikers in New York City, dress like porn stars had a baby, and cut out a giant teddy bear’s eye. You roll through the hallways of a hotel on a bellhop cart because you’re too fucking drunk to walk. I guarantee when you two convinced that poor bellboy to give you a ride on it up the elevator and to your rooms, he said yes because he saw two people who just didn’t give a fuck and didn’t give a fuck together. A perfect stranger saw that. When it’s bad, the man looks at you in a room full of people and he’s lost in you. When you need someone to make you remember life is worth living, he’s always made you laugh. When everyone shit on you, he stayed loyal to you and fought for you. It took me seeing him look at you yesterday like that to know for sure that he loved you. I’ve never experienced a love like that,” he sighs.

  “Jessica?” I ask.

  “Watching you walk away from Jagger after everyone in the world said you two belonged together, even me at one point, that was enlightening. When I think of love now, I think of Red and Grandma, Mom and Dad, Cam and Kathrine, and now you and Kip.”

  He pulls me into him and we sit in the cold reflecting on how far life has brought each of us. Letting go of someone you thought you always loved isn’t easy. Acknowledging that love isn’t enough with another person takes a lot of pain to be able to see. Realizing someone is a good person but brings out the worst in you is both emancipating and heartbreaking. Letting go of a love you wanted for so long, and a love that burned bright on a good day feels like failure. But crawling into the arms of the one you’re supposed to be with feels like Christmas. It’s exciting, yet peaceful.

  Chapter 4

  Kip

  I sit in front of a large balding man who sees death and grief every day. He’s showing us caskets and pamphlets of gravestones. We have so many choices to make. Mom will need to pull out his dress blues so he can be buried as a soldier. The funeral home organizes the three-volley salute as a final farewell from the United States Marine Corps and the American flag to cover his casket.

  We have to make decisions for the song of choice, the service, the pastor, the graveside service, the pamphlet for the service, and the gravestone. Thank God he had life insurance because if I would’ve had to pay for this shit I would’ve known it was one last ‘fuck you’ from the old man.

  “Kip?” mom interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yeah?”

  “What do you think?” she asks.

  “About what?”

  “The pamphlet for the service.”

  “I don’t really care. Put something about his military service in there,” I offer.

  That’s the only thing he ever gave a fuck about anyway. She rattles off some shit to the man sitting in front. I swear I can see dollar signs in his eyes and the cha-ching sound every time my mother adds some other “service” to this ridiculous bullshit.

  “Loving Husband & Father,” I hear her say.

  “What?” I ask.

  “For the front of the pamphlet and the headstone,” she answers.

  “No.”

  “What, honey?” she asks sweetly.

  “You. Are. Not. Putting. Loving. Father. Anywhere.”

  “Kip,” she whispers to me the way mothers do when they’re letting you know how embarrassing your behavior is.

  “What?” I bark out.

  “Can we discuss this at home, sweetheart?” she asks.

  “No. We’re not going to discuss this at home. We’re discussing it now. I swear to everything sacred if you put ‘loving father’ on a mother fucking thing I’ll be so pissed.” I raise my voice.

  “Young man you shouldn’t speak to your mother…” the fat bald man begins.

  “Bruh, I’m not talking to you. She’s giving you a shit ton of my father’s life insurance money to bury the dick. Your placard states ‘Bob Crane, Director’ so I’m going to need you to fucking direct and not worry about how I speak to my mother. A man who let me go to foster care and beat the shit out of me after this drunk bitch broke my arm does not get the right to have the words ‘Loving Father’ printed on a goddamn thing. Feel me, son?” I grit out through clenched teeth.

  “I understand,” he says and eyes all my tattoos.

  Judgmental mother fucker.

  “Fucking spectacular,” I say and glare at the man.

  “Kip, I know you and your father had problems,” she’s crying.

  “We had problems? He fucking hated me and never gave a shit about me until you were so fucking drunk you broke my arm, and he had to leave the precious military to see about the life he created. And only then the only thing he gave a shit about was getting you sober enough to take care of me so he could leave again. ‘Loving Father’ isn’t going to happen.”

  “How would it look to other people, if I just put ‘Loving Husband’ or ‘Soldier’ on it?” she asks.

  “I don’t give two shits what you put on it so as long as ‘Loving Father’ isn’t, and I sure as hell don’t care what other people think.”

  She turns to Bob with an embarrassed look, “I think we’ll stick with ‘Loving Husband and Father’ for now but I’ll call if we change our minds.”

  “Oh, we’ve changed our minds. Right now! Test me mom and see what happens. If you put those two words on any fucking thing that has to do with that prick, I’ll bring a sharpie and all my tattooed rock star friends and we’ll cross it off of everything you put it on. If you put it on a gravestone, I’ll find whatever tool grinds into that shit and turn it into a big ass dick, because that’s exactly what he was. He wasn’t a loving husband either, but hey if you want to lie to everyone even after his ass is dead and gone, be my fucking guest!” I yell.

  “Kip, just calm down son. You’ll wake up tomorrow and feel bad about this and then you’ll want me to change it but it’ll be too late,” she pleads.

  “No. I won’t change my mind about Gary, just like he never changed his mind about me,” I whisper.

  “Mr. Crane, please go ahead with what we discussed,” she instructs.

  “Are you fucking deaf?!!!” I scream.

  “No, son. One of us has to make good decisions even while we’re grieving.”

  I stand up so quickly the chair flips over behind me, “Fuck you. The only decent decision you ever made was trading up Mr. Boston’s shit vodka to Stoli’s.”

  I open the door of the office and slam it shut behind me. I can’t believe she’s fucking trying me on this shit
. After everything I put up with because of her drinking problem and his absence my patience shouldn’t be tested on this. I pace the parking lot for over thirty minutes because I can’t leave. I rode with Pam. I don’t have the keys otherwise I’d leave her ass here.

  “Fuck!” I scream to the asphalt and run my hands through my hair.

  I’m done with her the minute he’s in the ground. I’m done with this part of my life. I can’t keep doing this. Their faces are always a constant reminder of the first eleven years of my life. I don’t want to remember them anymore. I’m so tired, just so tired of remembering it all. I tried to play the good son after she got clean. I smiled to his face and visited a couple of times a year. I pick up when Pam calls and pretend I’m happy to hear from her because I didn’t want to be the trigger that sends her back to the bottle. I’m so fucking tired of walking on egg shells.

  When everything was perfect in my life, he had to die. Well, fuck him too.

  “Kip!” mom yells from the sidewalk as she makes her way to me.

  “What?” I snap.

  “I can’t believe you acted like that. You embarrassed me!” she yells.

  “I embarrassed you?” I say with shock.

  Is she fucking insane?

  “I’ve called Henley to pick you up. I don’t want to be around you right now. You had no right to disrespect your father like that!”

  She is fucking insane.

  “Have you been drinking?” I blurt out.

  I didn’t see it coming, I was blinded by my own rage, but she slaps me across my face. It stings like hell.

  “That’s enough!” Grace’s voice comes from behind me.

  I turn to see Grace, Henley, and Koi speed walking towards me.

  “Don’t tell me how to treat my son. He acted like an ass in there!” Pam screams.

  “That’s my son!” Grace argues and my chest aches with her words.

  “I don’t remember you birthing him,” Pam argues.

  “No, that was apparently the easy part for you. I raised him and loved him when his birth mother was too fucking drunk to do it and his father loved his country more than he did his own son. Don’t put your hands on my son again,” Grace stands her ground.

  “Or what?” Pam taunts.

  “I’ll do more than slap you. I promise you’ll regret ever crossing me,” she seethes and starts towards Pam causing Koi to hold her back.

  I feel fingers touch my hand and look up to see Henley’s concerned eyes on me. I take her hand in mine and try to steal some of her strength.

  “She wants to put ‘Loving Father’ on everything to do with putting his ass in the ground,” I tell Hen and she scoffs.

  “What do you want to do?” Hen whispers.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I answer.

  “Do what, Kip?” she continues to whisper.

  I look at Pam and then at the funeral home behind her, “Any of it.”

  “Okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” she soothes.

  I turn to Pam, “If you write anything about him being my father past the legal fact that he is indeed my father, I won’t come to the funeral.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Pam intakes a breath.

  “I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not tiptoeing around your sobriety. I’m not playing along with your charade of him being daddy of the year, and I’m not accepting the flag from the coffin.”

  “You have to accept it. It’s given to the eldest son. You’re his only son,” she argues.

  “He loved that fucking flag more than he ever loved me. Let me correct myself, he never loved me. He was a shit husband, father, and human being. Those are my stipulations if you want me by your side playing the grieving son. My friends are the pallbearers and Henley and Grace stand by my side. End of story or I’ll pack my shit and go back on tour to play for perfect strangers who care more about my well-being than my own parents!” I shout.

  Henley grips my hand tighter letting me know she’s still there. Pam looks at her shoes for quite a while. When she raises her eyes she looks at Grace with disgust. Then she looks at Henley who hasn’t taken her eyes off of me.

  “I agree to everything except the flag and Grace,” she bargains.

  “Not one word I said is up for negotiation, Pam,” I sneer.

  “I won’t concede to the flag.”

  “I guess you’ll be playing the role of grieving widow by yourself then,” I stand my ground.

  “You had to go and find the biggest white trash family in the county, didn’t you? Your father may not have been the most affectionate man in the world, but at least he isn’t covered in tattoos. He didn’t drink and do drugs like all you musicians do. He didn’t grow his hair long or shave the sides of it like you do. He was a respectable man. He had a respectable job. You could’ve done so much better than the Hendrix’s,” she says with venom.

  “Fuck you, Pam! You are the last person on earth who has the right to judge us,” Koi snaps. “The shit you did to Kip is unforgivable in my eyes. You may have been too drunk to remember it but you hurt him. He had to take care of you long before he was old enough to do so. You showed up drunk at school and made an ass out of yourself and embarrassed the hell out of him. His clothes were too small because every bit of money you had was spent on alcohol. He showed up at school with foster parents and everyone knew what happened to him. He was a fucking orphan for the first part of his life because you were too wrapped up in yourself to give two shits about him. Gary was not a loving father, so if Kip doesn’t want that shit put on there, don’t fucking do it. If you do, me and my white trash family will right your wrong and I assure you, you won’t like our methods. You fucking lush.”

  Pam shakes with anger. I’ve never seen her mad. She was always happy as long as she was drunk and I was living with Koi and Henley by the time she got sober.

  “Careful, Pam,” I warn.

  “Fine. You have it your way, but your ass better be at the funeral service on time. I decided on a graveside service. Henley, it would be nice if you could sing for us,” she says so nastily.

  “Kip, you want me to sing?” Hen asks.

  I think about it for a minute. Quiet falls around the five of us. He doesn’t deserve to have her sing at his funeral but the irony of it amuses me. It would be one more fuck you from me to him. Having Henley Hendrix sing at his funeral would chap his ass though, so how can I say no?

  “If you want to, it’s fine with me,” I answer.

  Pam visibly relaxes a tad bit, “Would you sing Amazing Grace?”

  “If Kip approves,” she answers but still hasn’t taken her eyes off me.

  She’s letting Pam know her presence is for my benefit. She’s my rock and Pam doesn’t stand a chance with her and my mother and brother standing behind me. My family.

  “Amazing Grace it is,” I say and turn to head to Grace’s SUV.

  Chapter 5

  Henley

  We ride to my parents’ home in silence. Pam’s behavior shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. For a woman who spent years as a useless alcoholic mother, she sure does have a penchant for keeping up appearances. I don’t know how to help Kip, because while I understand darkness, I don’t know what this feels like. I can’t relate to my parents essentially abandoning me at a young age, so I let the silence settle between us.

  Kip peers out of the window of my mother’s SUV. I’m sure he doesn’t see anything because he’s lost in his own head. Watching him stand up to Pam was painful but made me smile with pride. He’d waited so long to say those things, but he’d never get the chance with Gary because he’s dead. I think deep down he’s waited to find his freedom from their emotional grasp, and I hope he meant what he said to her. I hope he breaks all ties after the funeral so he can heal. I imagine it would be freeing to know you never have to look into the eyes of the human beings who fucked up the first eleven years of your life.

 
When my mother parks my car and exits, Kip makes no effort to move. Koi and I sit with him in continued silence for fifteen minutes before Koi exits. I stay another fifteen minutes before I lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

  “I don’t want to leave you, but I think you want to be alone. I’m going to be on the porch so if you need me I’ll be right there waiting,” I say.

  He only nods in understanding.

  I sit on the front porch as my mom gives Red and my dad a rundown of everything that has happened. Both men are visibly angered by Pam’s behavior but they understand the best thing they can do is stand by Kip’s side. Red and Derek discuss us all standing with Kip as his family on the day of the funeral.

  Jagger and Memphis join us an hour later as we drink coffee and wait Kip out.

  Jag sits down beside me, “How’s he doing?”

  “Not good. There was an altercation with Pam,” I answer.

  “She’s such a cunt,” he states.

  “Yep.”

  My mom details the argument once again for Jag and Memphis and both are disgusted by Pam’s behavior.

  “How long has he been in there?” Jag asks.

  “An hour and a half. I’m going to check on him in a few and see what he needs,” I answer.

  I walk to the SUV and open the back door where Kip is seated. He looks at me but he looks so far away.

  “You want to go home with me?” I ask. “I can run you a hot shower and get you something to eat.”

  “No. I think I’ll go home,” he whispers.

  It shouldn’t hurt my feelings that he wants to be alone, but it does. I get it, but part of me wants to wrap him in my arms and protect him from further harm.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  He steps out of the SUV and sighs.

  “No. You’re smothering me,” he says.

  “Wh… What?” I ask.

  “I need to breathe and I can’t do that with you around right now. You’re smothering me. Just go home, Henley,” he frowns.