Breaking Down

Chapter 24:

"This is pointless!" 

I slammed my hand against the guitar. I fought the urge to throw it across the room.  I was stuck; writer's block was the worst. It's not like if I found a new song that I would have anyone to show it to. No one was knocking down my door begging me to play for them.

I hadn't even spoken to Nate since that night Cameron came tearing into the studio to come get me.  At this point, I had no reason to ever speak to Nate again.  What he made me do to Cameron was the straw that broke the camel's back.  I had to write Nathan out of my life for good if I was ever going to get better.

"What about the contract? The tour? Your dreams?" The bad side of my brain chimed in. She had been chipping away at me for days, trying to convince me to go back to Nate. 

"There will be others, Jessa."  The more reasonable angelic side whispered in a much less secure voice. Even she didn't believe what she was saying.

What if there wasn't anything else?  What if that tour was my only shot?  Could I live with myself if I passed up the opportunity? What if I really wasn't good enough to do this? I had no backup plan. I had never wanted to do anything else with my life. 

I pushed my hair back off my face and pressed my fingers to the strings again. I had to snap out of it. If I couldn't write, maybe I could play just a little to loosen my brain up.  I started Bourree in E minor just to work out my fingers with the quick chord changes.  It was one of the songs my Dad forced me to learn when I first started playing. He made me learn a lot of classical songs, but this was always the one I went back to.  It was my comfort; it was my serenity.  I closed my eyes and just let the music flow from my fingertips. 

"I'm surprised you still remember how to play that."  My Dad said, leaning against the doorframe to my room listening in.

"Yeah, but I messed up the accent and fell flat on the first cadence." I sighed, frustrated with myself. "What happened to me? I used to be so good at this."

"Jessa, you might want to be careful."  My Dad said, looking around.  "You sound like a music nerd." 

"Oh shit.  I fucking did."  I covered my mouth, stifling a laugh.

"There you go.  Much better. Now watch your fucking mouth."  He smiled back. I rolled my eyes at him. "Stop that. You look just like your Mother."

I gave him another eye roll for good measure.

He patted the doorframe and began to walk away.

"Hey, Dad."  I stopped him before he could leave.

"What's up, Sweet Pea?"  He asked, looking down at me like I was a little girl again.

"Do you think you can help me for a little bit? I hate to ask, but I'm stuck.  The meds are really dulling everything and I feel really lost right now.  I just need to play something to let loose a bit.  I'm feeling off today."  I swallowed, not wanting to admit I was still teetering.

"Hmm, what's this doing here?"  He reached back in the hallway and I saw him bring his twelve-string acoustic guitar in front of him while he pretended to act surprised. 

An enormous smile broke out across my face.  He was such a dork. 

"Can I play it?" I asked eagerly.

"I don't know, Jess, you did mess up the cadence."  He scratched his head like he was pondering over a life-altering decision.  He was very protective of his guitars; this one, in particular, had been passed along through three generations of the Miller clan.

"Please Daddy."  I batted my eyelashes at him and turned on my little girl charm. 

He shook his head and motioned for me to hand him the one I was playing. He reached out his other hand to pass me the twelve-string.  I was practically salivating when my fingers wrapped around the spruce neck. This guitar was always my favorite.

I plucked at a few strings to make sure it was still in tune.  Of course, it was. My Dad religiously tinkered with his collection.  If I had to bet, all his guitars were probably sitting on their stands ready to be played. 

I began strumming a simple G chord. I closed my eyes, taking in the richness of the sound as it filled the room. The colors of the notes began swirling in my head.  This was exactly what I needed to break through the fog over my brain.

My Dad sat down next to me on the bed and began picking out a melody that perfectly matched my tempo as I began to strum a few different chords.  It was like he could anticipate where I wanted the song to go. I swore he could read my mind when we were playing together.

"How have you been feeling since we had that talk?"  My Dad asked, nimbly moving up and down the frets. His fingers danced over the strings effortlessly as he fingerpicked out a new melody.

"I have some good days and a lot of bad still. I get so keyed up sometimes and there are others where I don't even want to blink because closing my eyes scares me. It makes me feel like I am lost in a cave with no lights on."  I said, switching to a different key.  He mimicked my movements.  This was the one; this was the key for my register. It was perfection.

"Do you have any questions you want to ask me? I can't promise I will answer them all, but I will try. Jess, try double strumming on the downbeat."

"Well, maybe one.  Do you know when you are getting bad again?  Can you feel it?"  I asked as I switched up the strumming pattern like he suggested. It added a little intrigue to the already complicated progression. I really liked it. 

"Sometimes I can feel it stirring inside me, and sometimes I can't.  I don't know why or even how it works.  Your Mom can usually spot it before I can.  She likes to call it my black moods. She has learned to call me on it over the years.  She used to let me just get away with it at first, but it never did either of us any good. I would scream at her and she would cry.  I would feel guilty and she would be the one apologizing. I hurt your Mom a lot, Jess." 

"How?"  I asked, genuinely curious.

"That's not my story to tell. That is something that I will leave up to your Mother to talk to you about someday.  Just remember, if she does tell you, that I love her and I am not proud of the person I used to be back then. I am lucky that she let me back in and I am even luckier to have you and Jax. I would do it all over again to end up right here." 

"Dad, I have one more question?"  I said, trying to hold back the flood of emotions I was feeling from his honesty. It was overwhelming.

"Fire away, Jess." 

"Do you just like to hang out in the hall with your guitar?"  I asked.  I laughed when he pulled into a higher range and made his guitar player face.  You could not play the guitar like he did and not make that face.  I had one too, I tried to hide it when I was performing on stage, but it would always slip out at some point.

"Yes, Jessa, I stand in the hallway, waiting to serenade your Mom every time she walks up the stairs to go to the bathroom."  He laughed.

The front door opened and we both stopped playing and looked at each other.

"Ezra, Jess, Jax.  I'm home!"  My Mom called up the stairs. 

My Dad's eyes were twinkling as he looked over at me.  I was giving him the same look back.

"Operation annoy your Mother?"  My Dad raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, we are so doing that."  I laughed, grabbing my guitar.