𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝, guy germaine

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | behind the scenes

December 1996

CHRISTMAS MORNING AT OUR house was pure joy. Of course, we were all too old to believe in Santa, but there was something about giving and receiving presents that still made my 16-year-old heart sing.

Guy arrived around 11 am, straight from the morning he spent with his mother and aunts across town in St. Paul. He was eager to see me, his cheeks rosy from the short walk from his truck to the front steps. I answered the door after he rang the bell.

"Merry Christmas, beautiful." I invited him to step in and he kissed my cheek. "Get Boone and Jimmy out here to help me take the presents in."
"Oh Guy, c'mon, I can help!" I went to take my jacket off the rack and he stopped my arm from reaching for it.
"No, you don't need to catch another cold."
"But if I dress warm-"
"Uh-uh. Remember the doctors said we need to keep you healthy. The antiretrovirals are doing their job, so we need to do our part."

I crossed my arms, lips forming a pout. While I really appreciated that he cared about me being healthy and staying alive (obviously), I didn't like how he would limit me sometimes. Both Guy and Gordon had a tendency to take my responsibilities on so I can focus on myself. But focusing on yourself when you're dying, no matter how slow, is just too damn hard.

Boone passed behind me, Chris coming down the stairs, and Guy seized the moment.

"Hey guys, come help me get the presents from my truck, will 'ya?"
"Of course." Boone smiled, getting his boots on before his coat.

Guy threw me another smile, lifting my chin up. "Opal, I know you wanna help, but I need you to worry about you, okay? Even if you weren't sick, I wouldn't want you lifting a finger."
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is." He brought me into his arms for a hug, my exposed skin feeling the cold left on his jacket. "Now go sit by the fire, you'll get sick from this draft for all we know."
I made my way to the fire as they went out, knowing that at the end of the day, Guy was just trying to do the right thing - not be controlling.

I pulled out the present I had wrapped for Guy beneath the tree - it was a nice striped sweater. Guy loved to wear sweaters in the winter, so when I found this one that was nice and warm and his favorite color, forest green, I had to get it for him. Boys were hard to buy for, no matter how well you know them, so I only hoped my gift would be adequate for him.

A few minutes later, we were all gathered by the living room fire, ready to open the gifts we had for Guy and what he had for us. He took his rightful seat next to me, rubbing my back.

"Opie, you should open my gift to you first." Guy explained. "I really want you to."
"Well what if my gift falls short?" I questioned, watching him pull a rather large box over for me.
"You never fall short, Opal." He assured. "Now open it! The suspense is killing me."
I gently tore open the paper, getting to the box beneath rather quickly.

I took a deep breath before opening up the box.

It was my guitar. My old guitar, the one I made Jimmy drop on the streets of Nashville as we ran from Judson. The guitar I busked the streets with, that I worked my ass off to buy. It held all the magic I had.

"How did you- where- Guy, what?" I didn't even know what to say.
"It took a bit of work, but I knew it was important to you. I was trying to find it for you for last Christmas, but it took longer than I planned. And when I did find it, I still had to get it re-stringed and refinished." He took the guitar from the box, placing it in my lap. "Come on, test her."
I strummed a chord, and I was brought right back to my good old days.