“Tomorrow night,” replied Alice. “I need to get Gary’s ashes home to my parents. We’ve been gone too long as it is.”
“Time he went home too,” agreed Jake, remembering how homesick his late friend had been.
“The band would like to invite you back in September,” began Jason, realising the route the conversation was taking. “We’d like you to be our guests at the headline show on September 6th.”
“I’m not sure,” Alice started to say, more than a little over-awed by the offer.
“We’d love to,” interrupted Tom with a huge grin. “Alice, it’s what Gary would have wanted.”
“I guess.”
“Leave it with me,” suggested Jason warmly. “I’ll sort out the arrangements for you both.”
“Where are Silver Lake playing?” asked Tom curiously.
“Good question,” commented Jake, glancing at Jason. “We’d like to know too.”
“House of Blues in Atlantic City,” announced Maddy with a huge grin. “All signed and sealed as of four o’clock this afternoon. Full two hour set.”
“That calls for more champagne!” declared Grey with a smile. “House of Blues? Can we fill it?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Jason calmly. “Lots of promo work. Promise of new material. Strategic advertising. Tickets go on sale on Friday.”
“Speaking of new material,” began Lori tentatively. “Have you come up with a title for the album yet?”
“Ah, the million dollar question!” laughed Dr Marrs from the far end of the table. “How many hours have we spent debating that one?”
“Too fucking many,” muttered Rich under his breath.
“Ah, raw nerve. Sorry, boys,” apologised Lori, genuinely regretting her question. “However, if you don’t give me a steer, you’ll be selling it in a cover that looks like a brown paper grocery sack.”
Although said in jest, the comment gave her inspiration for a fourth option for the cover. As a fresh debate commenced on the title, she sat doodling on her napkin before she forgot the image that had created itself in her mind. When their meal arrived, she slipped the napkin into her purse. Food for thought for later.
Over the meal, the band continued to throw suggestions into the mix for the album title. Eventually, after over an hour, they had it narrowed down to three possibilities. Borrowing a pen from Lori, Maddy took charge and wrote the three titles onto a napkin, then tore it into three pieces, screwed them up and dropped them into a clean, empty, water glass. While they all watched her, she shook the glass.
“Tom,” she said, stretching across the table. “You can do the honours. Are we all agreed that whatever one Tom picks, we stick with?”
All of the band members nodded.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” said the teenager with a huge grin.
After a teasing moment’s deliberation, he made his choice and smoothed out the paper ball.
“Well?” asked Grey, impatient to know the outcome.
“Impossible Depths,” announced Tom, holding up the paper napkin fragment for all to see.
“Like it,” nodded Jake. “Fits.”
“Got my vote from the start,” Rich agreed with a smile towards Tom.
“Does that help our beautiful artist, though?” enquired Jason theatrically.
“Perhaps,” replied Lori with a knowing smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Can I keep this?” asked Tom, still holding the piece of napkin.
“Of course, honey,” answered Maddy softly.
“Is there space for you all to autograph it?” he asked hopefully.
“We can try,” said Jake, taking the piece of soft tissue from him. “Write small, guys.”
With the napkin autographed by all of Silver Lake, Tom passed it to his sister to store carefully in her bag. The three teenagers were growing restless at their end of the table as the meal ended. Sensing their desire to escape, Lori suggested, “Why don’t we let the kids go down to the boardwalk for an hour or so and we could all go for a couple of drinks?”
“Sounds good to me,” agreed Grey, signalling to the waitress to bring the check.
“If you don’t mind,” said Rich. “I’m going to call it a night. The pain meds are wearing off and my face hurts like hell.”
“You ok?” asked Jake looking concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly,” replied the guitarist as he stood up. “The surgeon re-broke the bridge of my nose and my cheekbone, then re-set it again. Wasn’t the original plan for yesterday, but was the best option apparently. I’d beg to differ right now.”
“Come on, then,” said Linsey. “Let’s get you home for some more drugs, Ricardo.”
When the waitress came over with the check, Jason accepted it, declaring that dinner was on him. Jake started to protest that he should pay part as he’d ordered the champagne, but the Englishman shook his head, insisting he had it covered. Once outside the restaurant, the three teenagers headed off towards the boardwalk, promising to be outside the Turtle by ten thirty. As the rest of them set off down the main avenue at a more leisurely pace, Jake discretely asked Lori to pass him the scarf from her bag. On the pretence of glancing in one of the T-shirt shop windows, Jake stopped to fix the sling back into place. Grey stopped alongside him while the others walked on ahead.
Alice fell into stride beside Lori and thanked her again for allowing them to stay at the apartment. For the first time, the English woman noticed Lori’s cane and asked if she was alright.
“Legacy of an accident,” explained Lori with a wistful smile.
“I never realised,” apologised Alice awkwardly. “What happened?”
“I was hit by a motorcycle about eighteen months ago,” replied Lori plainly, feeling she needed to tell Alice but part of her still unable to open up about it all. “I fractured my leg pretty badly. There’s a lot of expensive metalwork holding it together.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” sympathised Alice warmly. “That must have been awful for you.”
“It’s had its moments,” confessed Lori softly. “This is the best it’s been.”
“Best what’s been?” asked Jake, catching up and putting his good arm around Lori’s shoulder.
“My leg,” explained Lori. “Alice was asking how I was.”
“Ah, I see,” he said softly, knowing how hard she found it to talk about it. “Well, if you hadn’t messed up your leg, we might never have met.”
“Pardon?” asked Alice, smiling. “I sense a story there.”
As they walked the last few hundred yards along the boardwalk, Jake told Alice about finding Lori stranded on the beach and about helping her home.
“That’s a beautiful story,” she sighed as Jake finished. “So romantic!”
The bar was crowded when the Silver Lake party entered. Scanning the room for an empty table, Jake realised they were out of luck. A baseball game was showing on the TV screens and, as a result, there wasn’t an empty seat in the place. They found a quiet-ish corner at the end of the bar while Jake ordered the first round of drinks. With his back to the crowded bar room, he was soon deep in conversation with Dr Marrs and Paul about the mixing for the album. Lori and Maddy were chatting animatedly with Alice about the pros and cons of life in Manhattan. All of them were relaxed; comfortable in each other’s company; each still grieving, but finally beginning to move on. Shortly after ten, Maddy and Paul said their farewells, apologising that they needed to get back to the farmhouse and the twins. Gone was the brisk business Maddison, replaced with the mommy anxious about leaving the babies with Paul’s sister for the first time.
“Maddy!” called Lori as her friend turned to leave. “Wait! I’ll walk out with you.”
Her friend took one look at her and just nodded, noting the pain in Lori’s eyes. Once down the stairs and outside the bar, away from the others, Maddy put a protective arm round Lori and asked, “You ok, honey?”
“Just sore,” sighed Lori,
sounding exasperated. “I simply can’t stand for any length of time anymore. I’ll take a seat out here and watch for the kids coming back. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure, Lori?” asked Paul, sharing Maddy’s concern.
“Positive,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You two head home to the meatballs. Jake’ll follow me out in a minute, I’m sure.”
“Ok,” relented Maddy, torn between waiting with Lori and going home to her babies. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Night, guys,” said Lori as she spotted an empty bench a few yards away.
“Night!”
Leaning heavily on her cane, Lori limped over to the empty white, wooden bench, cursing her damaged leg under her breath. With a sigh of relief, she sat down, almost immediately feeling the pain lessen. The boardwalk was busy with groups of teenagers and young couples enjoying the hot summer night. A few yards further down, she could see Tom with Todd and Kate and the other members of Hunt ‘Em Down. They all looked to be laughing and sharing a joke. It made her smile to see Tom relaxed and happy- a dramatic change from the grief stricken, surly teenager she had first met. He turned and, spotting her sitting on the bench, waved over. A few moments later, it was Todd who came over to sit with her.
“You ok, Mz Hyde?” he asked, flopping down onto the bench beside her.
“How many times do I need to say it, Todd?” she laughed, trying to hide her discomfort from him.
“Always one more,” he joked. “Seriously though, are you ok? You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine. Just sore from standing,” Lori confessed, rubbing her thigh. “There’s a ball game on so the Turtle’s packed. No seats.”
“If you’re sure,” he began awkwardly.
“I’m fine.”
“That was a nice thing the band did for Tom over dinner. He’s still talking about it.”
“Yes, it was,” agreed Lori, glancing over at the group of teenagers. “Sometimes Maddy surprises us all.”
“She scares the crap out of me,” Todd declared. “Those tattoos. The spiky hair and those heels!”
Lori laughed. “She’s a kitten really. Believe me.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said the teenager with a smile. “You sure you’re ok though? I don’t want to leave you sitting here on your own if you’re not.”
“Go and have some fun. Alice’ll be out looking for Tom in a few minutes. I’m fine here.”
“As long as you’re sure,” said Todd standing up.
“I’m sure. And thanks for caring, Todd.”
She watched as he loped off back along the boardwalk to join the others. Gently she stretched out her left leg, feeling the muscles protest at the movement. As she sat watching the world go by, she slowly bent and straightened her leg, easing off the pain with each movement. In her bag, she heard her phone “chirp”. It was a text message from Jake asking where she was.
“Sitting outside on a bench, L x” she replied.
A second cricket chirp followed almost instantly.
“On our way out. J x”
It was almost ten thirty and Lori noted that the three teenagers were preparing to leave the group and head back over. With a smile, she watched Tom hug a petite, blonde girl then kiss her, before turning to follow Todd. Beside her, Lori felt someone sit down. It was Jake.
“Hey, li’l lady,” he said warmly. “You ok?”
“Fine. How about you, rock star?” she asked, resting her head against his warm body.
“Wasted, if I’m being honest,” confessed Jake with a lopsided grin. “I’m blaming the champagne.”
At that the others joined them – the teenagers from one side; the adults from the other. There were hugs and a few tears as Alice and Tom bade them all goodbye. Alice held onto Jake a little tighter and a little longer than the others, then turned to hug Lori.
“Thank you,” she said, tears gliding down her cheeks. “You’ve all been amazing.”
“We’ll see you both soon. In Atlantic City in September,” replied Lori warmly. “Jason won’t take no for an answer so I’d agree to whatever he suggests.”
“Tom wouldn’t let me say no,” giggled Alice, glancing over at her young brother. “We’ll see you soon.”
With all their goodbyes said, Jake and Lori walked back along the boardwalk towards the house. Before they reached the end, Jake suggested that they walk the rest of the way home along the sand. After the buzz of the boardwalk, the pitch black beach was eerily silent. Only the gentle beating of the waves on the shore broke the silence. Walking in the soft sand was challenging, but Lori kept quiet, sensing that her fiancé needed the solitude of the ocean.
“Wonder what the beach at Atlantic City’s like?” Jake mused, his voice husky from shouting to be heard back at the bar.
“You pleased with the news about that show?” asked Lori.
“Hell yeah,” declared Jake without hesitation. “This is huge for us! We get to headline our own show in front of two thousand fans. If we fill the place, of course.”
“You’ll fill it,” said Lori, confident that Maddy wouldn’t have set the deal up if they weren’t more than capable of selling out the venue. “Will you be ok to do a two hour set?”
“Should be,” replied Jake, not sounding very certain. “I’ll feel happier once I’ve seen John Brent on Tuesday.”
“What about Rich?”
“He’ll be fine. He only needs to stand and play,” commented Jake as they turned up the beach towards the house.
The waiting room at the medical centre was packed when Jake arrived for his appointment. Lori had driven him out to Beebe but had dropped him at the entrance, saying she was going to do some shopping. As he had closed the car door, Jake had promised to call when he was ready to be picked up. Now, when he saw how many patients were waiting in line, he began to wonder if Lori had known he was in for a long wait. Unable to get a seat, he stood against the wall, near the door, silently praying that no one would recognise him. Almost an hour after his appointment time, the receptionist called his name and directed him towards the doctor’s office.
“Morning, Jake,” greeted John Brent as he walked in. “Apologies for the wait.”
“No worries, John,” said Jake calmly. “Has there been an outbreak of broken bones?”
“Summer break,” joked the doctor. “Skateboard season too. Wrists. Elbows. Ankles. Knees. So how have you been?”
“Good,” replied Jake, taking a seat beside the desk. “Ribs feel ok most of the time. Shoulder’s a lot better. Still gets sore after a while.”
“Ok, shirt off and let me get a look at you,” instructed the doctor. “Have you been using that shoulder much?”
“A fair bit over the last week or so,” confessed Jake as he carefully slid his shirt off. “We had to get the record finished so I’ve been playing quite a bit.”
“Any trouble with it?”
“Some. I was careful. Sat down to play to keep the weight of it. Took regular breaks.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really,” laughed Jake. “And I’ve kept to the pain meds regime. And I’ve followed the exercise plan you gave me.”
“I’m impressed,” complimented the doctor as he began to examine Jake’s shoulder.
He spent a few minutes thoroughly testing his range of movement, then checked over his ribcage. As he asked Jake to take a deep breath, he noticed that the musician flinched.
“How much singing have you done?” enquired the doctor, running his hand down Jake’s tender rib cage.
“Quite a bit. And, yes, it hurt like hell at times,” replied Jake honestly.
“Ok, you can put your shirt back on, Jake,” said John Brent before adding, “I meant to say before, that’s some array of tattoos you have there.”
“A life’s work,” joked Jake. “So what’s the opinion?”
“On your tattoos or your injuries?”
“The injuries.”
“You’ve hea
led really well, considering. I’m happy with your shoulder. The range of movement is good. Just be careful with it for a few more weeks. You might want to think about a neoprene shoulder support if you are playing for any length of time. Ease back on the pain meds. Only take them if you need them. I’m still a little concerned that your ribs are tender but there may have been a small fracture there that we missed. Singing will have put a strain on the muscles too, so that will hinder the overall healing process.”
“I didn’t have much choice, John,” stated Jake bluntly. “It’s my job and we had a deadline.”
“I understand and I don’t think you’ve done any long term harm. It’s just taking time to settle down,” reassured the doctor warmly. “You’re good to resume normal activities.”
“Can I drive?” asked Jake hopefully.
“Yes.”
“What about running? Can I start training again?”
“Might be a bit too soon for anything intense. Gentle jogging to start with and see how it feels. If it hurts, stop.”
“I hear you,” said Jake.
“When are you next playing live?” asked the doctor.
“August 10th,” answered Jake. “We’ve four open air festival shows coming up, then a headline show in Atlantic City in September.”
“Well, take care, Mr Power. Don’t overdo it,” cautioned the doctor with a warm smile. “When’s the new album due out?”
“Start of October,” replied Jake, a hint of pride creeping in. “Then the plan is to tour Britain and Europe in November and December.”
“Busy schedule.”
“Keeps us out of trouble,” joked Jake.
“That remains to be seen,” countered John playfully. “Hope it all goes well and, if you need me, just call. Lori has my cell number for emergencies.”
“Thanks, John. Appreciate it,” said Jake, shaking his hand.
When Lori pulled into the medical centre car park, she spotted Jake sitting on a low wall enjoying the sun. He was chatting on his phone as she stopped the car beside him.
“Sorry,” he apologised, climbing into the passenger seat. “It was Grey checking up on the rehearsal schedule for this week.”
Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2) Page 26