Shattered Hearts

by Coral McCallum

  “Daddy!” she yelled excitedly. “There’s a baby dolphin!”

  “Where?” asked Jake, scooping her up into his arms.

  “Straight out from Mommy and Jesse.”

  Scanning the ocean, Jake soon spotted the family of dolphins and, as he squinted into the sun, saw the baby dolphin swimming in their midst.

  “There’s two babies,” corrected Jake, noting a second dolphin calf near the back of the family group.

  “Two!” shrieked Melody shrilly.

  “Come on, let’s go tell your brother and your Mommy,” suggested Jake.

  As they approached Lori and Jesse, Melody wriggled down from her father’s arms and ran towards the others shouting, “There’s two baby dolphins! Two!”

  Taking her little brother by the hand, Melody led him down to the water’s edge pointing to the second baby dolphin.

  “Hey,” said Jake to his wife as he crouched down beside the towel.

  “Hey yourself, rock star,” replied Lori, smiling up at him, relieved to see the anger was long gone from his hazel eyes.

  “Sorry,” apologised Jake as he sat down. “I was out of line.”

  “You were,” sighed Lori softly. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” admitted Jake, truly not knowing where to start.

  “I talked to Paul earlier. He said things have been tough out at JJL. Said you guys are struggling a bit.”

  “I’ve recorded easier albums that’s for sure,” Jake agreed, running his hands through his hair. “Guess I let it all get to me last night. Took it out on you guys. I was out of order.”

  “As long as it’s a one-off,” cautioned Lori, her tone firm but oddly calm. “Jesse was so scared. Miss M was distraught.”

  “I know,” whispered Jake, struggling with the guilt that was crashing down on him. “It won’t happen again. Promise.”

  With a smile, Lori reached out to take his hand, “Was today a better day?”

  “Long story there, li’l lady. I’ll tell you later. Laid a few ghosts to rest.”

  Lack of sleep and the tensions of the previous day caught up with Jake over dinner. As storm clouds rolled in over the area, he could feel a migraine building. Knowing he had to earn back some Daddy points, he excused himself once their meal was over and slipped down to the bathroom in search of his medication.

  Ever since the incident with Salazar and his momentary relapse into his old bad habits, Jake had avoided all forms of medication at all costs. As the pressure built in his head and lights began to flicker at his left eye, he knew he had to take something before the migraine floored him.

  Sensing he was struggling, Lori said she would put the kids to bed and chased him into the sunroom to lie down.

  “You ok?” asked Lori when she eventually came in to join him in the sunroom.

  “Not really,” replied Jake without opening his eyes.

  He was lying stretched out on the longer of the two couches.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thanks,” he said quietly. “Think I need to sleep this one-off. Been a long time since a migraine’s floored me like this.”

  “Go to bed,” suggested Lori softly. “I’ve some work to finish off.”

  “In a minute,” replied Jake. “I’ve work to do too but I can barely see straight.”

  “Bed,” repeated Lori a little more firmly. “You can tell me about the ghosts you laid to rest over breakfast.”

  “I can tell you now, li’l lady. Jim Marrs is devious,” said Jake, slowly sitting up. “He talked me into playing Salazar’s National today.”

  “And?”

  “Actually, it worked like a charm once I got settled. I swear I could smell that fucking tea off the strings though. Brought a few ghosts back. Made me feel like shit after yelling at the kids too. Been a bizarre day.”

  “So, will it be on the new Silver Lake record?” quizzed Lori, more than a little surprised that Jake had managed to even touch the guitar.

  “Three tracks. Yes,” replied Jake as he got to his feet. “Sounded sweet. Not the guitar’s fault its previous owner was an evil son of a bitch.”

  “True,” she agreed softly. “Now, get to bed before you pass out.”

  “Night, li’l lady.”

  “Night night, rock star.”

  There were only two other patients in the waiting room when Lori arrived for her appointment with John Brent. She’d scheduled it for after the school run and hoped that Jake would be out at the studio so she could slip off to Beebe in secret. Her sixth sense was telling her to keep quiet about her pregnancy until after the album was recorded.

  “Mrs Power,” called Dr Brent’s receptionist. “Second door on the right, down the hallway.”

  “Thanks,” said Lori as she got stiffly to her feet.

  Leaning heavily on her cane, she made her way down the familiar hallway to the doctor’s office.

  “Lori,” greeted John Brent warmly. “A pleasant surprise.”

  “Hi, John,” she said with a nervous smile. “Been a while.”

  “Well, now that you mention it,” he began, raising his eyebrow at her. “You’re about three months late for your regular follow up appointment.”

  “Not the only thing I’m three months late for,” replied Lori cryptically.

  “Oh!” said the doctor. “You’d better take a seat.”

  “Thanks,” sighed Lori as she lowered herself into the seat beside the doctor’s desk.

  “I’m guessing congratulations are in order?”

  Lori nodded, “I’ve done three tests. Definitely pregnant.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I’ve not told Jake the good news yet.”

  “Ah,” said the doctor. “How far along do you think you are?”

  “About twelve weeks.”

  “And you’ve not had any antenatal care yet, have you?”

  Lori shook her head, anticipating the doctor’s response.

  “Lori!” exclaimed John Brent, unable to hide his exasperation. “You know you need to take better care of yourself than that. After the stress your body went through carrying Jesse.”

  “John, I know!” snapped Lori sharply. “The last couple of months haven’t been easy for us.”

  Taking a deep breath, John said, “I understand. I was sorry to hear about Rich. Such a shock.”

  “It was,” sighed Lori, feeling a wave of grief sneaking up on her. “Hit us all hard. I kind of lost track of things. Then Melody started kindergarten and Jake’s back in the studio and….”

  “I hear you,” interrupted Dr Brent calmly. “First things first. You need to get booked in with your midwife and obstetrician. I’ll work closely with them. If this is a big baby, you will be on bed rest for your third trimester. You realise that?”

  Lori nodded.

  “Let me make a couple of calls over to the maternity unit. I’d be happier if we confirmed a few dates here and checked that baby is ok. Once that’s been done, we can check out your leg.”

  Without a word of protest, Lori sat in silence while Dr Brent arranged for her to see one of his obstetrics colleagues and scheduled her for a priority ultrasound scan.

  “Ok, Mrs Power,” began the doctor, hanging up the phone. “I’ve called in a couple of favours for you. Dr Marcus will see you over at the maternity unit in an hour. You’ll likely get your scan first then your booking in appointment. Don’t be surprised if she proposes more appointments than a regular schedule for you. You are deemed a higher risk after Jesse’s delivery. When you’re done over there, come back over here and I’ll check you out. I need a look at your leg.”

  “I hear you,” sighed Lori. “And I’m guessing this will be another C-section?”

  “Most likely.”

  “I should be able to carry this baby though?”

  “If you follow your doctor’s advice to the letter then you should be perfectly fine, Lori. Just don’t decide that you’re going on tour with Jake w
hen you’re eight and a half months pregnant. If you’re told its bed rest then no arguments. You know I was thinking about operating on your leg again to replace two cracked screws? Worst case scenario, we need to do that surgery before baby arrives. I’ll do what we can to avoid that if you do.”

  “Thanks, John,” said Lori softly. “This wasn’t exactly a planned pregnancy but there’s worse things than another pair of little feet.”

  “That’s true,” conceded the doctor with a smile. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “When did you realise you were pregnant?”

  “Just last week,” she admitted sheepishly. “I’d been feeling tired in the mornings but not nauseous. I put it down to being a bit stressed with everything that’s been happening. It was only when I was sick one morning that the penny dropped. That’s the only time I’ve thrown up.”

  “Well, at least you’ve not known and ignored the signs,” sighed John Brent. “I’m sure this will all work out fine. Dr Marcus will take good care of you.”

  “Thanks. I hope so.”

  In contrast to John Brent’s waiting room, the waiting area in the maternity unit was packed. Almost every seat was taken. Spotting one empty chair beside the window, Lori made her way across the room then carefully sat down between two heavily pregnant women. Judging by the size of their swollen bellies, birth was imminent. A shiver of fear rattled down Lori’s spine as she remembered how large and whale-like she had felt during both her pregnancies and how dramatic both her labours had been. Subconsciously, she rested her hand on her still flat stomach and prayed that this would all go smoothly.

  “Mrs Power!”

  Having barely been waiting for five minutes, Lori felt the angry stares of the other expectant mothers as she got to her feet. A smiling young nurse led her down the hallway, explaining that they were going to do the ultrasound first.

  “Have you had plenty of fluids?” checked the nurse.

  “Two bottles of water and, if this scan isn’t done soon, I’m going to pee my panties,” confessed Lori, sounding more than a little anxious.

  “Will only be a few more minutes then you can visit the restroom,” promised the nurse. “Dr Marcus is going to do the scan herself.”

  “Ok,” said Lori as they reached the exam room.

  Familiar with the routine, Lori climbed onto the exam table and loosened the waist of her jeans, pushing them down a little then rolling up her top. Just as she had made herself comfortable, a woman entered the room,

  “Apologies for keeping you waiting, Mrs Power,” she said. “I’m Juliet Marcus.”

  “Hi and its Lori.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I promised John I’d take good care of you,” said Juliet Marcus warmly. “I was just getting up to speed with your history. Looks like you’ve had two dramatic births before now!”

  “Slight understatement,” giggled Lori nervously. “My daughter was born on our sun deck and we only just made it to the hospital here to have my son.”

  “So I read. Emergency C-sections in our ER isn’t the way we like to do things here.”

  “Wasn’t in my birth plan either.”

  “Right, let’s take a look and see who we have this time,” said the doctor, lifting a tube of gel. “You know the drill. This is going to feel cold on your skin for a few seconds.”

  Pressing down firmly, the doctor moved the probe across Lori’s stomach. The urge to pee doubled at the pressure but, just as she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, a flicker of motion on the monitor screen caught her eye. There, before her, was the first image of the baby. It’s tiny arms and legs were thrashing about then, almost as if it was camera shy, it curled up into a ball and rolled over.

  “Perfect,” declared Dr Marcus. “Gives me a good clear view of that tiny spine.”

  “Is everything ok?”

  Nodding, the doctor said, “Give me a moment to take some measurements then we can talk.”

  Mesmerised, Lori watched the screen, smiling when the baby slowly uncurled and stretched for a few seconds then instantly curled back up into a tight ball.

  “Part kitty,” laughed Dr Marcus as she wiped the gel from Lori’s stomach.

  “Certainly seems to prefer being curled up,” giggled Lori. “Dr, I really need to pee now.”

  “Of course. Go and make yourself comfortable. Restroom is in the corner.”

  When Lori returned to the room, the doctor indicated she should take a seat and passed her two printed scan images. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the two photos. As she gazed down at them, Dr Marcus asked her a few routine questions then said, “Considering this is your third pregnancy, I’m mildly surprised you didn’t recognise the signs sooner.”

  “Me too,” admitted Lori quietly. “Life’s been a bit manic. We lost a close friend at the start of July and I guess I didn’t pick up on the early signs. There’s been no morning sickness apart from that one day last week. That was when I realised.”

  “Well, baby’s having the last laugh here,” teased Dr Marcus with a smile. “You’re due on April 1st.”

  “You’re joking!”

  “No joke.”

  “Something Freudian about that.”

  Out at JJL, Jake was struggling. The migraine from the night before hadn’t fully lifted and, as he tried to focus on the bridge he was tracking, the bright studio lights were making it worse. The whole room was starting to spin. After an hour, he stopped playing and called out to Jim Marrs, “Sorry, I need a break. Lights are killing me in here.”

  “You ok, Jake?”

  “Migraine,” explained Jake, sitting with his head in his hands. “Feel like shit.”

  “I’ll dim the lights,” offered the producer, reaching for the switch. “You should’ve said.”

  Jake merely nodded.

  “Why don’t you go out and grab some air for a bit?” suggested Jim. “I’ve some emails to deal with. Take a half-hour and see how you feel after that?”

  “Can’t do any harm,” muttered Jake, getting to his feet. “We still on schedule here?”

  “A bit behind but nothing we can’t catch up on.”

  Glancing at the board, Jake saw all the empty squares and recognised just how far behind they actually were. Drums were tracked for every song on the board but there were only five bass tracks completed. The guitar tracks he’d laid down the day before were crossed off but Jake realised that he couldn’t go too much further until Grey was back in the studio.

  “Half an hour,” he said wearily. “If I can get these three tracked between today and tomorrow, are we free till Monday?”

  “Could be,” agreed the producer, looking over at the calendar on the control room wall. “Leaves four weeks to finish the rest.”

  “We’ve done more in less time,” noted Jake philosophically.

  “Yeah, but there were four of you then.”

  The words were out before Dr Marrs realised what he’d said.

  “Yeah there were……” said Jake as he walked out of the door.

  The school parking lot was busy when Lori arrived to pick up Melody. Squeezing her SUV into the last remaining space, she heard her phone chirp in her bag. Having pulled on the parking brake, she reached for her cell, hoping it was a message from Jake. He’d been on her mind and she was concerned that his migraine would still be plaguing him out at JJL. She smiled when she saw the message was from her husband.

  “Migraine’s suck. Struggling. Will be home by dinner. Love you. J x”

  “Want me to run out with your meds? Lx” she quickly typed back.

  “Got them. Not helping, Love you. J x”

  As the school bell rang, Lori sent a short emoji message in response – a sad face and a love heart. Just as she went to place the phone back in her bag, it chirped again.

  The message wasn’t from Jake.

  It was from an unknown number.

  Her hands trembled as she read, “I’ve fucked your rock star
husband.”

  With tears in her eyes, Lori blocked the number then stuffed the phone in her bag as she hurried to collect their daughter.

  “Who could be sending these?” she wondered as she crossed to the meeting point in the schoolyard.

  An hour sitting outside in the shade had helped to alleviate the feelings of nausea but Jake’s head was still fuzzy as he re-entered the studio. The lights were dimmed and Jim had turned the temperature down a few degrees in an effort to help.

  “Jake,” called out the producer as he reached for the live room door handle. “I owe you an apology.”

  Shaking his head, Jake said, “It’s cool. You’re right. There were four of us then.”

  “And to an extent there still is,” countered Dr Marrs cryptically. “I’ve updated the board.”

  Entering the studio with the band’s producer behind him, Jake’s eyes sought out the whiteboard. Several more squares under guitar related columns were either crossed out or at least had a score through them.

  “I don’t understand,” began Jake, confused as to what the update meant.

  “The turquoise lines are Rich’s parts,” explained Dr Marrs. “There’s still a few I need to work with from those files but I’m confident that the others are ready.”

  “Paints a much prettier picture of where we’re at,” admitted Jake, gazing at the turquoise marks. “When you see it like that, it is kind of as if he’s just been recording when we’re not here.”

  “Not sure it makes any of this any easier for you, buddy,” said Jim, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “But I had to try something. He’s on twelve out of these eighteen songs. This is his record too. He’s still with you on this one. Just out of sight.”