Feuds and Interludes (Rock ‘n’ Romance Legends #1)

Chapter 5

Five

S hane

“Boone Collins can kiss my ass.”

Honestly, if I had to hear his name one more time…

“Calm down, Shane. Such a hothead.”

Pops was the only one I allowed to talk to me like that. My fiery temper apparently came from him, though I’d never seen it. My mom inherited it from somewhere. Her mother—Bruce’s second wife, Eddie Mae, a sought after Black hairstylist from Alabama—who died before I was old enough to really know her, apparently was a tough one too. Her and Pops supposedly had some epic rows.

“I wish you would have given me a heads up that you were going to use this opportunity to declare your love for your ex-best friend’s widow.”

The cheeky bastard just chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m just getting warmed up. As soon as we’re back in LA, I’m going to call her and ask her on a date.”

“ A date ? With Vera Jean Collins? Are you out of your mind?”

Pops’s teasing smile faded and in its place was a haunted expression, one from a man who had lived a hard life, a lot of it his own doing, and who dared to want more for himself.

“No, Shane. I’m finally in my right mind. Vera Jean made the best decision for herself back then. I was a mess. John was a better choice for her. But now? I’m sober, I’m healthier than I’ve been in my adult life…I’ve still got a few years to kick around. I’d like to spend them with her.”

My heart broke hearing him make this confession. He did deserve to be happy…but really? “Why her? Why not meet someone new?”

Pops shook his head and sighed. “Because it’s time. And it would only be her.” He locked eyes with me. “She’s the love of my life, Shane. And I want to spend what life I have left with her.”

I opened my mouth to retort, and I saw him brace himself. It took a lot for him to admit that to me.

“Do you think she feels the same?” I asked. Maybe he knew something I didn’t.

Pops grinned wickedly. “We’re about to find out.”

I drove Pops across town a week later to his regular AA meeting and we argued the whole way. The plan was that I’d drop him off, and then he’d walk over to The Dresden afterward to meet Vera Jean for dinner. He’d call me when he was done. When did I become the parent in this relationship?

“Just maybe don’t lead with, ‘you’re the love of my life,’ that’s all. Spend some time, get to know her again. Maybe she’s not the same person she was all those years ago.”

“Of course, she’s not. You’d understand if you ever got out of your own way and let yourself fall in love.”

I scoffed. “What do you mean? I’ve been in love.”

He scoffed. This conversation was quickly devolving.

“Right. That bloke Remi? He was a glorified groupie and you were glad to see him gone.”

I grunted. Why did he have to be right? “I was in love with Daron.”

“Daron was an overgrown Boy Scout and he wanted you to quit music.”

That’s what I got for dating someone my parents wanted me to date.

Daron Mirigian was an investment banker my stepfather knew through his Armenian relatives. I’d fallen hard for him, so much so that I’d missed the signs. I asked him to take the next step with me, whatever he thought that should be, whether it was moving in or getting married and then cohabitating. He’d agreed it was time... Time that I quit the band. That was the end of our relationship. I pulled everything in tighter to myself and became the control freak I was today.

“I was attempting to smooth things over with Mom, you know that.” I’d lived with Pops since getting my GED. My father had left when I was in middle school, tired of Mom’s controlling ways. I tried to please her, but when Pops bought me my first guitar at age thirteen, I was hooked.

Mom was furious that I wanted to pursue music after I’d seen how it wrecked Pops’s life. Not only had his addiction played a part in the demise of California, but it also led to friction in his relationships, and it kept him from having a close relationship with my mom, not to mention the financial strain it caused his family. I saw it differently. Pops’s struggles with alcohol put me firmly in the sober camp, and I learned from his trials and tribulations, but Mom didn’t believe that would be enough to keep me out of trouble. I proved her wrong, though the part of me that craved her approval kept me bitter. For years, I’d try to connect, try to show her how successful I was, then she’d belittle me, I’d get pissed, I’d go get another tattoo, another piercing, she’d bitch…

Now? We spoke when necessary, but we’d never been close.

How pathetic to let my mommy issues interfere with my life?

I’d have been a mess if it hadn’t been for Pops. Bruce Duncan was the most important person in my life, and in the back of my mind, I knew my issues with him dating Vera Jean had more to do with my fear of abandonment than worrying about him. Yeah, I’d done the therapy thing. I considered myself a pretty self-actualized dude. Most of the time. Didn’t mean my shit didn’t crop up occasionally.

I pulled up in front of the building in Los Feliz where Pops had been going to AA for years. I did my time in Al-Anon, at his suggestion, and was glad he had the support of the program.

“You’ll call me when you’re done at The Dresden?”

Pops chuckled. “Don’t wait up. I can grab a Lyft, or maybe a ride with a lovely lady.”

The thought of my 70-year-old grandfather going home with someone?

I should have been more worried about my own lack of plans for the evening. I waved goodbye to him, drove over to Sunset to pick up my Gibson from my buddy Ty at the repair shop in Guitar Center, perused the comics at Meltdown, and then scrolled through my phone to see if there was a movie playing nearby. I could have called one of the guys in my band, but we didn’t socialize when we were off tour. We had a working relationship, that was it. Sure, we cared about each other. You couldn’t not when you’d been together for ten years, but I needed to leave work at work. I thought about going by my mom’s…

“You’re a fucking case, Butler.” I pulled away from the curb and drove over to The Dresden. At least I’d be close if he needed a ride. If I saw him leave, well, then I’d know he was okay.

Maybe I should have looked for an Al-Anon meeting with my codependent ass hanging out.

Instead, I pulled up YouTube and, like the disaster I was, I rewatched the performance from the induction ceremony.

Fucking Boone Collins.