Guitar Love - Resonance of Hearts Part 9

30 Be Not Afraid, the Strife is O'er

         The last concert of the tour was in Chicago this time around.  The guys weren't entirely happy ending the tour so far from home, but had settled down in the hotel to see if they could flesh out their list of songs for the next album.  As usual, they had different opinions on the music arrangements.

         "What do you think - 'F' or 'G' after this 'C'?  It could go either way" Ollie asked the room at large.

         Jay scratched his head and frowned at the splotches and chicken scratchings covering the notebook on the table.  "That's a 'C'?  Damn, I thought we were going with 'A' here.  You've really gotta learn to use a pencil for this work, Ol, not a pen."  He squinted closer at the smudged page.  "Or is that a squashed bug?"

         "That's from lunch" the singer noted breezily.  "We dropped the 'A' over an hour ago because nobody liked it there.  Try to keep up.  I know bassists are kinda slow and you only know how to play four strings on any given guitar, but even for you that's slipping.  Are you even in the room with us?"  He waved his hand in front of his friend's face theatrically.

         "You had lunch?" Jay asked blankly.  "When did that happen?  Where was I?" he looked around as if food would magically appear from somewhere.  The others laughed.

         His brother snickered derisively.  "You were on the phone with my sister, of course.  There's chicken salad in the minifridge with your name on it" he jerked a thumb vaguely over his shoulder as he studied the music they were writing.

         "How serious are you about Katie, by the way?" he asked as the bassist sat back down with a bowl of salad cradled in his lap.  "I noticed you don't wear Sara's ring anymore.  Are you planning on being more than roommates when the tour ends?  As her brother, I'd like to know."

         Jay took a swig from the bottle of water he always had nearby and leaned back on the hotel room sofa to study his brother.  Over the past two months since the big fight they had worked out their issues and were back on an even keel aside from a few regrets - namely Sara's tears.  She was still upset that Jay was moving out at the end of the tour and wouldn't talk to him yet.

         "Would it be a problem?" he asked.  "She's a beautiful and generous woman and I'm totally crazy about her son, but we're still getting to know each other right now.  I was thinking that if she hasn't thrown me out by the beginning of our next tour I'd ask her out on a date" he grinned briefly.

         "It's not going to be easy when we go back to see Sara - it's going to take some time to get over her - but I think it will help having our own house instead of sleeping down the hall.  You've my word that whatever happens between us, I'll take good care of her and Lucas."

         Daff nodded.  "I trust you.  I've got to admit, I'm looking forward to having Sara to myself... I didn't mind you being in the picture once I got used to it, but the idea of waking up in the morning without your ugly scruff next to my shoulder is very appealing.  No offence" he ribbed the other man good-naturedly.

         Jay waved a hand dismissively at the statement.  "None taken, as I feel the same way about you."  He sat forward and set the empty bowl aside.  "Let's get back to business.  This song isn't going to write itself and we're still short two pieces for the next album."

         They didn't get much farther in their composing before their manager stalked in, looking pissed.  "I hope you boys didn't have anything valuable on the bus" he told them gruffly.  "It's disappeared from the park.  The police are checking the security footage and combing the city... how in the hell does somebody just stroll up and steal a forty-foot tour bus?!"

         The group erupted in angry chaos.  Their tour bus was their home away from home, and they spent more time in it then they did their own homes.  The bus and the highway had been the first real home most of them had ever had.  Before their manager could get them calmed down they heard a knock on the door of the hotel suite.  He opened the door for the police to come in.

         The detectives introduced themselves and reported their findings.  The younger dectective took notes while his partner handled the talking.  "Your bus was parked in a good spot - impossible to go near it without being caught on at least three security cameras" the older detective informed them.

         Ollie nodded.  "We come to Chicago two or three times a year and we've been using the Drake Hotel as our base of operations for years - they've made changes to their parking area and security to accomodate us.  They're happy with our business and we're happy with the service.  We have no problems with the Drake or its staff" he said.

         "We can track the movements of three large men, from the entrance straight to the bus and inside" the detective continued.  "It took them two minutes and thirty-seven seconds to enter the lot, gain access to the bus and drive off the property.  They knew what they were doing, knew what they were there to take and exactly where to find it.  This had to be a planned theft with inside intel.  Do any of you have enemies in the city?" he looked at each of them in turn.

         Daffy sighed heavily and stepped forward.  "My last name used to be Murray... from the North Side Murrays.  Sound familiar?"

         Both detectives eyed him closely.  "It does" the older man nodded.  "I used to work the North Side about ten, fifteen years ago.  You've grown up well since I used to haul you in for theft or question you in the hospital after you'd had one of your little 'accidents'.  Have you learned to talk to cops yet?  I recall one of our little visits when you had a broken jaw and both eyes blacked and swollen shut, among other things."

         The guitarist nodded.  "I remember.  You were always decent, even when you had me by the collar.  If our bus was taken by three men about my size, you'll want to check the North Side Garage and the surrounding area, and look for Patrick, Michael and Andrew Murray.  The last time we were in town I had a few words with the family and took our sister Kate away to live with us in California.  I suppose they were maybe a bit irate" he shrugged.  There wasn't much he could do about his family, after all.

         The detectives thanked them and left.  Dean, their manager, went to arrange transport for their instruments and stage equipment back to California if they couldn't get the bus back in one piece.  They had already made arrangements to fly back home instead of driving this time around.  The guys went back to the table, but were no longer in the mood for composing.

         A while later they received more bad news from their manager - the bus had been found, abandoned, completely stripped and burned, near the 33rd. St. overpass.  All their personal belongings that had been on the bus were gone.  Their equipment would be driven home on a rented truck after that evening's gig.

         Daffy's temper was at its breaking point.  All he had ever wanted was for his violent family to leave him alone.  Now they had gone too far.  He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.  Behind him the other men exchanged alarmed looks and hurried as one to follow him.

         "Where do you think you're all going?" he growled menacingly when they tried to crowd into the elevator with him.  Lesser men would have backed up, but not these men.

         "You're not going out there without us, Daff.  We stand together, remember?  You can't fight all of us off and still stand up to the old man by yourself."  Jay didn't give an inch, standing nose to nose with his brother.

         "Fine."  For the first time since he had grown strong enough to defend himself Daff stepped back from a fight.  This wasn't the one he wanted to fight, and it was easier to let them onto the elevator than to try to leave them behind.  He felt a strange warmth inside and it took him most of the ride to the lobby to realize that this was the first time in his life when a brother would stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him in a fight against the old man.  He wasn't alone fighting for his life anymore.  They had a concert they were supposed to perform that night, but every one of them was following him into the snowy evening to do battle at his side.  They headed off into the sunset.


         Colin Murray stood in the ruin of his living room, alone.  The police had come and gone before he had arrived, and two of his sons were in custody.  He stood looking emptily at the dark stain on the floor.  His eldest son Patrick had been the first to stand when the police had rushed in, and had chosen to charge them in the hopes that his brothers would have a chance to escape.  That had failed, and he had taken a bullet that had severed an artery.  In a matter of minutes he had bled to death, despite the best efforts of those present.

         The police had been to their garage as well, he had heard from others.  They would be looking for him by now - he should leave.  He continued to stand among the wreckage, staring at the stain on the floor.  It would be years before his remaining sons were free again, their lives wasted in prison.  With the problems his heart was currently giving him he didn't know if he would live long enough to ever see his boys again, even if he did remain free himself.

         He could hear the echo of his wife's voice in the empty house, reminding him that it was his fault - he had raised their sons to be what they were.  Their boys were the only things Jenny had ever stood up to him to defend.  She had tried to raise them right, to give them a chance to grow up to be good men, but he had raised his hand to her, more times than he could ever count, and given their sons the upbringing he himself had received.  Now they were gone, her ghost scolded him, locked away or dead, and he was alone.  Just as he deserved.

         He looked up at a sound and saw her eyes in the doorway, staring at him in accusation and anger.  In hatred.  Declan had come, he saw.  Well that was fine, he decided.  He deserved his Jenny's condemnation for what he had done - to all of them.  Let the boy have his revenge... none of it mattered anymore.  He stood silently and waited for what was to come.

         Daff stopped in the doorway, stunned at what he saw.  A broken old man with haunted eyes and his father's face stared numbly at him from the wreckage of the dirty room he remembered from his childhood.  The empty eyes seemed to stare through him, seeing something that wasn't there.  A faint smile ghosted across the slack face and was gone before he was sure he had seen it.

         "Jenny?"  The voice trembled a bit, nowhere near as hard and frightening as it had seemed in the past.  There was nothing left in this old man for the memory of the young boy to be afraid of anymore.

         The haunted eyes eventually focused on the face in the doorway.  "Declan... Son.  So you've come."  He cleared the sudden tightness in his throat making it hard to breathe.  Something hurt deep inside, but he didn't know what it was.  The light was suddenly too bright and his eyes swam a bit.

         Daff shook his head slowly.  "Sean told me you're not really my father.  You never were, no matter how many times you tried to beat your blood into me.  Or theirs out of me, whichever it was.  You were just a hard bastard that made my life hell and got my mother killed."  He spoke slowly, seeing that the old man wasn't quite all there anymore.

         "Your father, too" the ghost of a voice still quavered, but the eyes sharpened on his face.  "When you ran off I thought you might have gone looking for that cajun bastard that spawned you, so I paid someone to put a knife in his ribs and bring you back if you were there.  I was mad at you... mad at him, made at her.  Hell, I can't remember when I haven't been full of hate."

         He looked around himself, down at the stain on the floor again.  "Today I don't feel anything - just a pain in my chest and a buzzing in my head.  There's nothing left now.  My Jenny's gone, Patrick's gone, the others in prison for who knows how long."  He passed a hand over his face, as if he could wipe the hazy light out of his eyes and see Jenny's son more clearly.

         "Pat drove the boy's car into the overpass" he mumbled.  His legs felt a bit shaky so he sat down on the floor next to the stain.  "Said the lad had come asking after my permission to take Katie down South and marry her.  Wouldn't have done any good had he asked me - I wouldn't have let her go.  My poor Katie" he stared off at nothing again, looking lost and old.

         Daff knelt on the floor by the old, broken man and took his hand to comfort him.  "Katie's fine" he assured him.  "She has a fine, strong son now.  She named him Lucas - after my father" he had Colin's attention again, at least briefly.  "Luc Fourneir's other son, Jay, is my bandmate and best friend, as well as my brother.  He's just bought a nice home almost next to mine.  When we get back home he and Katie and Lucas will move in there.  He'll take good care of her, and she'll always have me and Sara.  We'll give her family and friends and keep her safe.  She's happy there Dad, you don't have to worry about her anymore." 

         He was becoming alarmed at the pale, faraway look on the old man's face.  The hand in his was cold and clammy and the lips that smiled at him were tinged with blue.  He turned to the others still in the doorway and saw that both Jay and Ollie were on their cell phones trying to get help.  Mickey and Jerry had dashed outside to see if they could spot an ambulance or police cruiser passing by, but returned with a shake of their heads, no luck.  Ari stepped into an adjoining room  and came back carrying a faded blanket, which he gently helped to wrap around Colin's shoulders.  They propped him up against the couch with pillows at his back to make him more comfortable.

         Colin was starting to have trouble drawing breath around the pain in his chest, but he smiled at the fine, young man holding his hand.  "You always were a good boy, Declan.  At least I didn't taint you, like I did your brothers.  Your sister, God bless her, is her mother through and through and not a drop of me.  The two of you were always Jenny's, and lucky for it.  I'm proud of you, Son.  Your mother would be proud."  The wheezing, whispering voice trailed off at the end, and Colin Murray closed his eyes for the final time - his last sight was of his beloved Jenny's eyes, swimming with tears for him.

         Twenty minutes later the paramedics, with police escort, arrived on the scene, but Colin Murray of the North Side passed from his life a free man with his son by his side.

31 Finale

         The big house was full of family and laughter.  The womenfolk had gone all out for the homecoming meal, wanting to cheer up their men after the dismal tour ending.  The table and counters groaned with bowls and platters of good food, the fifteen-foot table straining to fit the entire family all at once, but they hadn't wanted to carry everything outside - that would wait for the Christmas gathering.

         After dinner the gang spread out between the music room upstairs and the  entertainment room downstairs.  There were several side trips to the kitchen in between to snack on leftovers and fetch fresh drinks.  Naturally, Jay and Daffy ended up spending most of the evening in the music room, communing with their extensive collection of guitars.

         Daff stepped into the bedroom at one point and came back carrying his first guitar.  It had been his mother's, given to her by the man who had been their father.  He handed it without a word to his brother, who cradled the instrument reverently across his knees to look it over.  It was a beautiful Gibson ES-175D, archtopped with a sunburst finish and dual humpbucking pickups, well cared for and in perfect tune.

         "I take it down every now and then and play something so it doesn't get lonely" Daff said sheepishly.  "It's the only thing of my mother's that I still have."  He stroked the neck of the old guitar tenderly.

         "It's beautiful, Daff" Jay tried to pass the instrument back into his brother's hands.  "Play something on it."

         "Please, Declan" Kate chimed in.  "I remember you playing at home, but I don't think Mom played too often that I can remember.  I'd like to hear you play something" she encouraged him.

         He took the guitar on his knee and caressed the curved body lovingly for a moment.  The notes he played were melancholy, full of longing and regret.  The strings wept old memories in his skilled hands.  He paused a moment with his eyes closed and head bowed when the song ended, then teased a more playful tune from the instrument, a jazz-styled child's song without words that had everybody in the room smiling.

         "That was the first thing she taught me to play" he smiled at the memory.  "She made such a big thing of it when I learned it through, like I was a world-class guitarist or something.  I was probably about five or six at the time, and my fingers could barely work the strings.  She told me someone very special had written it for her to play to her sons...."  It gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach to realize that the first song he had ever learned to play had been written by his father - for him.

         Jay was looking at him oddly.  "He taught me that song, too" he said.  "I had all but forgotten it.  He told me he wrote it for a pretty lady and her sons - he called it 'Float the Duck'.  Guess in a way he named you, too."



         Later in the evening Jay walked with Kate to their own home with Lucas in his arms.  Kate had painted and decorated part of the house already and had moved in with Lucas just a few days ago.  Jay wanted to see what she had done to the place, and was hoping for a cozy glass or two of wine in her company before she went to bed.  Over the past five months they had grown quite close and he found he enjoyed her company.  He wasn't looking forward to crawling into his old bed alone and so he had slung one of his favorite guitars on his back, figuring he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

         He looked around as they came in through the back door.  The outdated kitchen had been completely redone in a comfortable french style in cream and sage with cypress accents, including faux ceiling beams.  He liked the feel of the room, comfortable enough for family but still classy.

         "Nice work" he approved.  "You've been keeping busy while we were gone."

         She pinkened at the compliment.  "I've always liked this style of kitchen.  Sara and Mama Marcela have been giving me cooking lessons and your cousin Emilie has been a huge help the past few weeks.  She went back home to spend Christmas with your family, but she said she'd be back right after Christmas to help with the rest of the painting and decorating.  She's been using the bedroom off the kitchen while she's here."  Jay's cousin had invited herself for a visit to get to know her brother's son (so she said).  The young woman had turned out to be as bright and cheerful as Mardi Gras, and was skilled at traditional Cajun and creole cuisine.  She could also be quite a chatterbox.

         Jay gave a derisive snort.  "Cousin Emilie has had her heart set on Jerry since she was barely fifteen and laid eyes on him for the first time.  He's shares a room with Mickey whenever we visit because she once tried to sneak herself into his bed.  If she's coming back I'll have to give him fair warning or she'll have him for breakfast one fine morning."  He shook his head.  He was happy that his family was making Kate feel welcome, but femmes were complicated things, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted an extra one underfoot all the time - especially one set on landing his free and easy bandmate for a husband.

         Kate nodded.  "So we sort of gathered from the things she's said.  Sara was planning to say something if you don't, but we thought it best to see what you think first."

         She led him to the master suite so they could tuck the sleeping baby in his crib.  She wished she had dressed in something prettier than the cashmere blouse and long skirt Sara had suggested, unaware that the tall man at her back had been following the twitch of her skirts with his eyes all evening.  She had a swarm of butterflies in her stomach when she opened the bedroom door and stepped aside, hoping that he liked the changes she had made to the room.

         Jay stopped with the baby forgotten on his shoulder just inside the door.  He could see Rowena's hand at work, as the walls and ceiling had been painted in graduating hues of blue.  It gave the impression of looking from the depths of the ocean, fading upward in paler colors until the very tops of the walls and across the ceiling, where shades of palest blue and gold played, like sunlight on the surface of the water.  Here and there faint flashes and shadows hinted at sharks and shoals of fish in the distance.  Against one long wall was a bed every bit as large as the one he had shared with Sara and Daff, draped in shades of blue silk.  Antique barrels had been turned into bedside tables and an old chest of dark wood sat at the foot of the bed.  A driftwood cradle stood in a corner of the room, and he laid his precious burden to rest.  A mobile of tiny driftwood sailboats danced above the baby's bed, another Rowena original.  It was the most beautiful bedroom he had ever seen, and his eyes slowly drifted back to the enormous bed and its beautiful single resident.

         Kate was pleased at his stunned approval, but she blushed crimson when his gaze turned from the bed back to her.  There was no way to explain such a monstrosity innocently.  Her butterflies came back with a vengeance.

         "Sara and Rowena are to blame for that" she nearly stuttered the explanation.  "I made the mistake after the room was painted that it needed a bed like Sara and Declan's.  I nearly bit my tongue as soon as I said it, but it did me no good.  They hounded me until I gave in and agreed to it.  The linen closet hasn't got anything but silk sheets in it, all in blues and sands and black and pearl.  I don't know what I was thinking" she wrung her hands, flustered.

         He watched her flutter and redden adorably and grinned.  "I'll be sure to send them both flowers" he teased before looking around approvingly.  "It's a great room, I'm ready to be jealous.  So, did you fix up a room for me upstairs, or do I get to pick my own?"  He stepped closer so he could watch her tremble.

         "Ah, no, that is" Kate nearly bit her tongue in distress.  "Ooh, sometimes you tie me in knots!" she pulled her hair, mortified.  Taking a deep, calming breath, she gave him a narrow look that dared him to laugh out loud.

         "What I mean is... would you like a glass of wine?  I'm thinking about putting a  minifridge by the door, but haven't made up my mind yet."  The quirked eyebrow above the twinkling eyes looking at her let her know she was being a coward, and she took another deep breath.

         "Okay" she looked him straight in the eye.  "I didn't fix up a room for you or set up a bed because I was hoping you would share this one.  With me."  She stepped close enough to feel the heat of his hard body as he stood with his hands in his pockets.  "You said before that it wouldn't be unpleasant to share a bed with me...."

         Jay rocked back on his heels in mild surprise.  "You know, I had thought I'd give you some time to get used to having me around before I made any kind of move... I told your brother that if you didn't throw me out before the next tour starts I'd maybe ask you out on a date.  Is it too late to have that wine?" his hands were starting to sweat in his pockets, where he had stuffed them to keep them off of her.  "I don't want to push you too fast, Kate."

         She found she could breathe again now that he wasn't quite so composed.  "You're not pushing me, Jay.  I thought I might push you a bit, but maybe you still need more time to get over Sara.  She knows how I feel about you - we've been getting along better lately, partly because you bought us this house, I think.  She's forgiven you, mostly... actually she's started giving me relationship advice.  The bed and blue color were her idea, Rowena just helped to make the room look this incredible.  The only thing they left for me to do was to tell you I want you."

         "Are you sure?" he asked her.  He very much hoped she was, as he wasn't sure he could keep his hands off of her for much longer.

         She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a restless, thorough kiss.  "I'm more than sure.  Come to bed, Jay."

         He scooped her up into his arms before she could change her mind.  "Okay, but be gentle with me, will you?"



         Daff lay in bed with Sara cradled against his shoulder in the candlelit bedroom.  The past day with his family had gone a long way to ease the troubles in his soul, but nothing could heal him like the woman in his arms.  It would take him some time to deal with Colin's death, much as he had hated the man for so many years.  In the end he had been a lonely, broken old man with a bad heart.  Daff hoped the old man had found some measure of peace.

         His brothers Michael and Andrew would be spending quite a long time in prison for the theft and destruction of the band's tour bus.  He hoped that they would leave him and his family alone when they got out - whenever they got out.  Patrick was dead, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that yet.  He decided not to think about it anymore that night.

         Sara shifted in his arms, her satin skin softer than the silken sheets they lay on.  He had been a bit worried earlier that she would still be pining after Jay when they came home, but she seemed to be taking the situation well.  He pulled her closer still and buried his face in her honey-scented hair.  It was good to be home.

         She cradled his head tenderly.  "I have a present for you, love, but it can't wait until Christmas."  She rose up on one elbow so she could see his face in the candlelight.  "I decided to have the amnio test and the results came back yesterday... you're going to be a father again" she kissed the tip of his nose, her eyes shining with happy tears.

         "Is it for certain?" he asked her, barely daring to hope.  "We're half-brothers, wouldn't that make it harder to tell for sure?" he frowned.

         She kissed him again.  "It's definite - they took samples from Kate and Alex for  comparison."  She laced her fingers through his and held on.  "There's just the one other thing.  It's twins.  We're going to have twins in April, just before you go back out on the road again."

         He lay stunned for a moment, trying to take it in, then swooped her up in his arms to hold her tight, tears flowing freely down his face.  They laughed and cried together for a bit, overcome by the joy and relief they shared.  He made gentle love to his wife then, wanting her to know just how much he loved and cherished her, how blessed he felt to be loved by her.

         Later in the night he lay watching her in the last of the candlelight, thinking.  "No regrets, sweetheart?  Jay and I were both worried how you would take his moving out, but once he made up his mind there was no talking him out of it."  He would do almost anything to spare her from hurt.

         Sara kissed his cheek lovingly and snuggled closer.  "I don't have any regrets.  I've got you, and Alex, and twins on the way.... I don't think I could be any happier than I am right now.  I think partly I held on to Jay because he seemed so sad and alone, and I didn't want him to feel bad.  I don't think we have to worry about him anymore though, because Roe and I have done every thing we could think of to help get Kate and their house ready for his homecoming.  She's completely in love with him, and if her nerves haven't given out she's probably a very happy woman right now.  I've been giving her pointers on how to seduce him" she revealed with a mischievous smirk.

         "You what?!" Daff was blown away.  "My sister... never mind.  I don't think I want to know.  If you're happy, and they're happy, then I'm happy.  I just don't want to know the details as they involve my sister."  He gave an involuntary shudder.  "If you've been coaching her in seduction then he hasn't got a prayer in the world.  In fact, if he makes it out into daylight tomorrow I suppose congratulations are in order, but I'm not holding my breath."

         "If he makes it out into daylight, huh?  Just what condition do you think you're going to be in tomorrow?" she asked him pointedly.  "Come here, Guitar Man, I've been missing you a long time."  The last of the candles slowly burned down and flickered out, but the flames of love burned all through the night.

THE END