Chapter 38 #2
Though it was late November, the briny sea breeze blowing in from the ocean was just warm enough for us to lie on the beach, but a little too cold to swim—at least for me.
Mosavi and Willa dropped Roscoe and me off at Darryl’s while they and the others made their way to the Marriott further up the shore.
As amazing as it would have been to stay in the presidential suite, I wanted to spend time here.
We were preparing ourselves emotionally for what was going to happen over the next day.
Austin was unaware of what Adam had planned, but tonight was all about Roscoe and Darryl.
I expected him to be overjoyed, but with how fragile their friendship was, this day could go in any direction.
That guitar could pull the scabs off healing wounds, but I had to trust that whatever happened, things would get better.
It was around four in the afternoon, and Darryl was high on his lifeguard chair, watching the human surfers trying to ride what few larger waves there were. Roscoe gripped the handle of the black guitar case, his posture stiff as we climbed the steps of the deck.
“Relax,” I said, gently stroking Roscoe’s back. “It’s all gonna work out.”
“If he still hates me after this, then I’ll know where I stand.”
“Darryl is complicated, and he doesn’t hate you. You know that more than anyone.” I opened the door and sat my suitcase next to that awful hammock I’d fallen out of countless times during my stay here. “You weren’t thinking clearly that night. That’s what addiction does.”
“It was still my choice. The pills didn’t buy themselves, and that guitar didn’t grow legs and walk away.” He looked down at the case. “I won’t be able to breathe right until this thing is in his hands.”
I glanced out the window at a now empty lifeguard chair.
“I think he caught our scent.” I opened the front door again, scanning the shore for any sign of the beach wolf, but he was gone. “You should go find him and give it to him. I’ll stay here.”
“Give what to me?” Darryl asked, startling us both as he seemingly materialized on the other side of the door. For someone so huge, he sure knew how to stay hidden. “I thought I’d be spending Thanksgiving by myself this year.”
I stepped out onto the deck and wrapped my arms around him. Darryl’s fur always smelled so fresh, and he was slightly damp, the sea water soaking through my black shirt.
“I missed you.” Those visions made me an emotional wreck. Seeing him now was even more significant than before, knowing what I knew.
“All right, what’s going on? Who died?”
“Huh?” I asked, but he held his thumb to my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Oh, I’m just happy to see you again.”
“It’s been less than a month. What’s going on?” He looked over at Roscoe, who was still partially hidden behind the door. “Why aren’t you being belligerent right now? You’re worrying me.”
Roscoe cleared his throat and stepped onto the deck. “I uh… I got somethin’ for ya.”
“Hopefully it’s a four-course meal. I’m starving.”
Roscoe slowly crept out into the open before letting the door fall against the frame. He held the guitar case in his hand while locking eyes with the larger werewolf.
“I’ve been lookin’ fer this thing for years, but Cody found it.”
Darryl stiffened, his breathing growing heavy.
“I feel like I can finally apologize the right way,” Roscoe whispered, tears now pouring from his eyes.
His entire body crumbled into a submissive stance while gauging Darryl’s reaction.
“I know nothin’ I ever do will make it up to you but just knowin’ you got a piece of yer dad back will be enough fer me. ”
The huge werewolf took a few steps toward Roscoe, extending a trembling right hand to grab the handle. He set the case flat on the spool table before lifting the latches. Slowly, he pulled it open before breaking into a light sob.
“Darryl?” I asked, stepping close to him as he hovered over the instrument.
He turned and scooped me into his arms before dragging Roscoe in close, burying his nose into the crook of his neck.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Roscoe,” Darryl whispered, his deep voice breaking.
“I thought you didn’t care about me. I was there as a way to score easy drugs, but when I cooled down, I remembered what you did all those years ago.
You could have used the money you gave me, but you were trying to get clean, and you didn’t want me to fall into that life.
At that moment in time, I was more important to you than the drugs were. ”
He let us go and wiped his eyes with the back of his arm.
“You came back with Cody, and I found out you rescued someone else, just like you did me all those years ago. You made a really bad mistake, and it took me a while to understand that. I never hated you. I was angry.” He pressed his forehead into Roscoe’s.
“I love you, dude. You’ll always be my packmate.
” He turned to me. “And you!” His tears turned into laughter.
“You’re worth a lot more than this guitar ever was. I knew that when I met you.”
“Now you’re just being sappy,” I said, sitting down on one of the plastic chairs surrounding the wooden spool table.
“Yeah, but I mean it. How did you even know what the guitar looked like?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, pointing to the cooler. “How about I tell you over some beers?”
“You like drinking beer now?” Darryl asked, cracking open the container before tossing me a bottle.
“Nope, it’s still gross, but tonight I’ll make an exception.”
The beach was empty except for six of us gathered around the bonfire; Roscoe was hard at work on Thanksgiving dinner in the kitchen.
All the scents of food and flames filled the air as Darryl began playing his father’s guitar.
There was something almost magical about the music, like he’d been holding it in for years.
The giant beach wolf swayed from side-to-side as his fingers nimbly traced the strings along the neck, the pointer and thumb claws of his other digits meticulously plucking each note. The guitar sang just as Mosavi described.
I kept glancing over at the elder, studying his face. It did little good because I could never tell his exact emotions just by looking at him. Stony indifference? Stony interest? That’s all I got as he sat on the sand, his arms crossed.
With the final note, the guitar resonated far longer than it had before, filling the air as the ocean waves applauded.
Mosavi uncrossed his arms, rubbing the fur on his chest, the hackles on the back of his neck raised. “I remember this.”
“Thanks for taking good care of my guitar,” Darryl said with a cocky smile, knowing what he’d accomplished. “Never seen it so polished before.”
“You really are his grandson. Darryl Shields.” Mosavi drew in a deep breath, the intensity of his stare remaining. “If it weren’t so absurd, I’d believe in reincarnation.”
“Shields. I haven’t gone by that name since I was human.”
“It was foolish of you to change it, knowing the greatness behind such a name.” Mosavi’s hackles finally flattened against his smooth mane. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have given up on you so easily.”
“I’m glad you did. I didn’t want that life.” He looked around at the ocean. “Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here.”
Even though he was annoyed at first, Mosavi’s face shattered into something much softer. “Sebastian always performed with his eyes closed as well.”
“I need to be in a different place when I play these pieces,” Darryl said.
“When I close my eyes, I can see every note as a ribbon. Each one is a different color, and I can picture where my fingers should be at just the right moment. It’s my way of slowing time.
Dad always told me that’s the way his father played, but my dad could never see the notes like that. He kept his eyes open.”
“You transcend reality,” Mosavi said, a wide smile finally parting his face. “I could never replicate the feeling myself with the violin, but I’ve come as close as I’ll ever get. You go well beyond that. It’s genius, as much as I hate to admit it.”
Darryl laughed. “Genius is a little too flattering for a stoner werewolf living in a shack on the beach.”
“Perhaps,” Mosavi said, his eyes almost glistening. “Perhaps merit shouldn’t be based solely upon appearance.” He turned to me. “I guess I owe you an apology.”
Willa turned and gave her husband a surprised look.
“Oh?” I said, rubbing my palms in anticipation of the crow he was about to eat.
“I owe you one, but you’re not getting it. We still have a lot of work ahead of us.”
“You’re such a—” I whispered but stopped and forced a smile when he glared at me. “So, I take it our two nights a week have been canceled?”
“Regrettably.”
Austin’s stomach rumbled from across the fire.
“It’s two o’clock. When the hell is Roscoe gonna be finished?” he asked.
“One mustn’t rush perfection,” Roscoe said in a fake Italian accent as he made his way to the fire. “Everything’s almost done. Just waitin’ on the rest of the turkeys in the smoker. They’re gonna be so juicy.”
“How many turkeys did you end up getting?” Austin asked. “I counted like eight of ’em. We expecting more, or are you gonna go on a binge?”
“They’re on their way.” Adam had been glancing at his phone every five minutes until now. “I wanted to invite a few of my friends from the city.”
“Well shit. How about some damn appetizers then?” Austin held his stomach. “I haven’t eaten since last night.”
“That’s not the sound of hunger. The seven lobster dinners you ordered for room service and horked down on my bill are likely still digesting,” Mosavi said through his teeth.
“Oh yeah. That was good shit,” Austin said casually. “Thanks, Mayor Moneybags.”
Mosavi was close to lunging, but Willa grabbed the sensitive area between his shoulder blades to calm him like she had the other day.
The sound of bus brakes squealed in the parking lot far behind Darryl’s shack, and Adam leapt to his feet before making a mad dash toward the commotion.