Page 13 of Behind the Lights

“Don’t worry, Joey, he has enough for an army and said he’ll bring a couple with him for you guys to learn on,” Mary shared.

“Yes!” we shouted, hi-fiving each other.

“Okay dude, I’m gonna go home and tell my dad. This is so sweet,” I said. “In case I haven’t said it before, thank you, Mary. For everything.” Suddenly I’d become bashful.

Her eyes glassed over, and she grinned. “You’re more than welcome, Joey. You know I think of you as my son too.”

I nodded, swallowing back the lump that had formed in my throat and headed for the door before I made a fool of myself by crying in front of them. Ricky and his mom meant a lot to me, they helped me through so much crap. First with my mom leaving and then with my dad’s shit. Luckily, my dad came around and we have a pretty good relationship now. One I think I owe Mary for.

After running to my house, and barreling through the front door I started yelling, “Dad. Dad?”

He came hauling ass around the corner. “What’s wrong, Joey?”

I was desperately seeking much needed air into my lungs, which freaked him out and he ran to my side putting his hand on my arm. “Are you okay? What happened?”

I held up a finger to stop him and once I was able to speak, I spurted out, “Guess what?”

“What?” He backed up, eyeing me from head to toe. Probably looking for blood or some sort of bodily trauma.

“Brett’s gonna give us guitar lessons!” I shouted, striking my fist in the air.

“Jesus son, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were hurt.” He took a deep calming breath. “That sounds great, but maybe next time take it down a notch – or two before you give the old man a heart attack. Okay?”

I laughed. “Sorry Dad, I was a little excited.”

“A little? That was a lot. How much is he charging you for these lessons? We’ll probably need to work something out with him to pay for them.”

I could already see his thinking cap was on, needing to figure out the financial situation in order to make it work.

“Um, I’m not sure. But I’ll do it, Dad. I don’t care if I have to mow lawns or rake all the neighbor’s leaves. I’ll pay for it,” I assured him.

“Ha-ha, well if you’re going into the landscaping business you’ve got my vote. You and Ricky have been doing a great job with our yards. But how are you gonna learn with no guitar?” he questioned.

“Mary said he has a bunch of them so he’s bringing a couple to her house for us to use. Our first lesson is on Thursday after he gets off work. But I’ll probably start saving for one of my own right away,” I told him.

“Good idea. Well, congrats then. You seem pretty excited, but keep in mind, you’re starting high school and your classes are going to be harder and you’ll need to keep your grades up,” he warned, using his dad tone.

“I promise, Dad, I will. Um, I’m gonna go shower and go to bed. Night,” I said, heading for the stairs.

“Night, Joey.”

Thursday couldn’t come soon enough. Ricky and I spent every day that week listening to music and making a list of the songs we wanted Brett to teach us how to play. That afternoon we literally sat out on the front porch waiting for him to drive up. When he finally pulled into the driveway, we raced over to his car.

“You guys seem a little excited, is everything okay? I can go back home if you need me to leave,” he teased, pretending he was getting back into his truck.

“No!” we hollered at the same time.

He was laughing so hard, he could barely get the back door of his truck open. We ran around to where he was, wanting to help him unload the guitars and carry them inside.

We each walked in the house, carrying a guitar case feeling far cooler than we probably looked. Mary held the door open for us and I caught her giving Brett a kiss.

“Where do you want us to set up?” Brett asked her.

“You guys can have the living room. I’ll go in the kitchen and get dinner started. Any chance you’ll stay and eat with us?” she offered, shutting the door behind him.

He smiled. “I’d love to.”

We sat on the couch, while Brett took a seat on the coffee table facing us. Intently we watched him first unpack his guitar before mimicking him with the ones he’d loaned us. He handed us each a pick, and then placed the guitar across his lap. Once again, we followed his lead.

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