“So tell me about your day,” he said, taking a seat across from her.
“I had pizza for lunch,” she teased with a cheeky grin.
Jake groaned.
“No, seriously, I did,” giggled Lori before adding. “I had a doctor’s appointment out at Beebe Medical Center then Mary and I stopped off at the outlets on the way back for a couple of hours.”
“I thought I saw you eyeing up those sale signs last night,” laughed Jake.
“I deserved a treat after the trip to the doctor.”
They ate in silence for a minute or two. Jake was keen to ask if she had got a good report from the doctor, but felt he couldn’t pry too much. He knew from the little she had let slip over the last few days that her accident was a taboo subject for now. Before he found the right words to ask, Lori explained what the doctor had said to her. Jake was silently relieved to hear she had not suffered any further injury after her tumble on the beach. Feeling a bit braver, he risked a question, “Tell me to but out if you want, but how much metal work did they pin you together with?”
Lori paused for a few seconds before replying, “A lot. I’ve a photo of my x-rays on my phone. I’ll show you after dinner. My phone’s through in the sunroom.”
“You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” said Jake, reaching across the table to take her hand.
“I know I don’t,” she replied. “But it might help both of us.”
“Well, only if you are sure,” said Jake. “I don’t want to upset you and ruin this.”
Lori giggled. “This?”
Jake blushed and looked down at his plate, suddenly feeling like a clumsy tongue-tied teenager again. “Well, I hope “this” is the start to an “us”.”
“Me too.”
When their meal was over and the dishes loaded in the dishwasher Lori fetched them both a beer. They took their drinks through to the sunroom. Her discarded sketch caught Jake’s eye and he smiled in approval at the image of his guitar emerging from the page. He had had that guitar since his eighteenth birthday and had spent a long time pouring his heart out into its strings over the years.
“It’s not finished yet,” said Lori settling herself on the couch and reaching for her mobile phone.
“Can I keep it?” asked Jake hopefully
“Not yet,” she replied. “It’s not finished and there’s a price.”
“A price?” he asked curiously.
Lori nodded, “You need to play for me.”
“Deal,” agreed Jake with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll play when the drawing’s done.”
“No, tonight,” teased Lori. “Or I won’t finish it.”
“Touché,” laughed Jake, reaching for his guitar.
“No, wait a minute,” said Lori, stopping him. She handed him her phone. “You wanted to see. There you go.”
“You sure about this?” he asked, taking the phone from her.
She nodded, then whispered, “Look at it please, before I change my mind.”
Jake turned the phone over in his hand and looked down at the image on the screen. The photo of the x-ray was not quite what he had been expecting. He had thought he would see a couple of screws and the rod she had mentioned, but the picture in front of him was more metalwork than bone. The rod went down the centre of the bone, a plate also ran more than fifty percent of the bone’s length and he counted at least eight screws.
“That’s some sculpture,” he said, handing the phone back to her, unsure of the right thing to say.
“Well, now you know,” said Lori sadly, returning the phone to its home screen.
“Might be best to stay away from big magnets,” he joked quietly, not sure how she would react to his weak attempt at humour.
Much to his relief she laughed. He moved over to kneel on the floor in front of her. Putting his hands on her knees, he said seriously, “I appreciate you trusting me enough to show me that. And it doesn’t change a thing.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Now how about you keep your end of the bargain?”
Jake stood up and went over to lift his guitar. Sitting down on the opposite couch, he began to pick out a gentle melody and was soon lost in the song he had been working on the night before. Softly he began to sing. His voice was husky and quite haunting. Soon Lori too was engrossed in his music. When he finished a few minutes later, Jake sat with his head bowed, his hair falling in front of his face, feeling strangely self-conscious all of a sudden.
“That was beautiful,” breathed Lori. “Will you play some more?”
Jake nodded and began to play a well-known rock song that was part of the band’s standard set. He played three more songs for her, then laid down his guitar.
“No more,” he said with a yawn. “It’s getting late.”
Lori started to protest that it wasn’t that late, but realised she too was tired. She watched Jake lay the guitar lovingly in its case, snapping the catches shut, then he fished the truck keys out of his pocket. Slowly she walked him to the front door.
“Can we catch up tomorrow?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ve got a therapy session in the morning, but I’ll be done by midday.”
“I’ve got work till eight again. I’ll come over after that if it’s ok,” he said, brushing her cheek with a gentle kiss. “Now get to bed. You look wiped out.”
“Night, Jake,” she called into the dark as he loped off the porch towards his truck. Lori watched as he backed out of the driveway, then closed the door.
♪
Next morning, Lori wakened at five thirty. The sun was coming up and she could hear the birds in the trees over near the lake. Suddenly she felt claustrophobic in the house and needed to get out in the fresh morning air. Without stopping to shower, she slipped on her yoga pants and a sweatshirt, pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, then wrote a note to Mary – “Gone for a walk on the beach. Lori x”. Having left the note on the kitchen table, she headed out of the back door. It was a glorious spring morning and the sea air was cool and fresh. Lori hadn’t stopped to put shoes on and the soft sand was icy cold on her feet. Slowly and carefully, she made her way across the sand towards the ocean. As before, when she was down on the hard packed wet sand, her confidence grew. Even the ocean was calm and small waves lapped ashore beside her. She had only gone about a hundred yards when she spotted a pod of dolphins playing just off shore. There were about ten of them, as far as she could tell. It looked as though they too had decided to enjoy the fresh spring morning. Mornings like this were good for the soul, she thought.
As she stood gazing out at the ocean, her mind began to drift over everything that had happened since her accident. Gradually, she began to appreciate how far she had actually come along the road to recovery. Her whole life had been on hold for four months. Maybe meeting Jake was the sign for her to relax about things a bit and enjoy living. She thought back to the previous evening and to the songs he had played for her. He showed real promise. Although she had only been on the periphery of the music world, Lori recognised real talent when she heard it and she had heard it last night. Talent not just as a musician and a singer, but as a songwriter too, she suspected.
Her own talents- what was she to do with them, she wondered. The few raw sketches she had completed recently had reminded her of how much she loved to draw and design and create. Jake’s delight at the Celtic design she had drawn for him had been heart-warming. Maybe it was time to resurrect Mz Hyde and to put some feelers out for some work. She could easily work from the beach house without the need to return to New York. Her laptop had lain in its case, dormant for weeks – her business emails untouched for months. At last she felt ready to begin to pick up some of the tatters of her old life.
The dolphins had begun to move south and to swim further out from the shore. Lori watched them until they were out of sight, then slowly headed back up the beach towards the house. As she walked, she strayed closer to the edge of the water and the occasional small wave
washed over her feet. The water was cold, really cold, but it felt good. An early morning jogger was heading along the hard packed sand towards her and, as he drew closer, she realised it was Jake. His sweatpants were soaked around the ankles where he too had strayed into the waves. His long hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and he had his earphones in. When he spotted her, a huge smile broke out across his face and he picked up his pace to catch up with her.
“You’re out early!” Lori called, as he approached.
“What?” shouted Jake, pulling out one ear bud.
“I said, you’re out early.”
“I could say the same thing,” countered Jake, grinning. “But at least you’re still upright on the sand this time.”
Lori laughed. “So far,” she said, then added, “I was watching the dolphins.”
“Yeah? I usually see them if I’m out at this time. Anyway, I was going to call you later. I need to cancel tonight. Sorry.”
“Oh,” replied Lori softly. She hoped her face didn’t give away the disappointment she was feeling.
“I got a text from Rich late last night. He’s managed to get us two free studio slots. A friend of his works at a small recording studio and occasionally gets us a free stint. We’ve got about eight hours tonight and tomorrow night. Graveyard slots,” he explained, obviously excited at the thought of studio time. “Anyway, Rich has contacts through the high school where he works and he’s got us a couple of guys to record some tracks. It’s too good to pass up.”
“Of course it is,” agreed Lori, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm. “Do I get to hear the end result?”
“Maybe,” teased Jake. “The rough plan is to try to get a handful of songs recorded so we can sell a few CDs at our gigs. There’s a charity event we’re playing in a couple of weeks. If we could sell some at that it would be good.”
“I get it,” said Lori, sharing his enthusiasm.
“If we get the stuff together,” he began, hesitantly. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, that I could share your design with the band. It could be our first album cover.”
Lori threw back her head and laughed at his awkwardness about asking. He sounded like a little boy asking for permission to take something precious into Show and Tell at school.
“And if I say no?” she teased, trying to feign seriousness.
“If you don’t want me to….”
“Jake, I’m teasing. The design is yours. Go for it. If I can help in any way, you just need to ask,” she assured him warmly. “Now walk me home and tell me what you hope to record.”
Together they walked back towards the beach house and Lori listened while Jake talked animatedly about the pros and cons of the different tracks they could record. He explained that they had had a few practice sessions in the studio over the winter, but hadn’t had the opportunity to record before. Jake went on to add that Rich could get some CDs produced cheaply and quickly. His enthusiasm and passion was infectious. By the time they reached the path to the house, Jake was convincing her they could reach the top of the Billboard 100 with their first release.
Still laughing, Lori asked, “Do you want to come in for some breakfast?”
Jake shook his head, “I need to finish my run and then get to work.”
“You sure?” she asked, hoping he’d change his mind.
Gently he kissed her on the forehead, “Sunday. Make me breakfast on Sunday, Mz Hyde.”
“Deal,” agreed Lori, smiling at his use of her professional name. “Now, run!”
With a wave, he jogged off along the beach, back towards town, taking long easy rhythmic strides. She smiled as she watched him, still feeling refreshed by his passion for his music. Once he was out of sight, she headed up the path towards the house.
When Jo arrived for Lori’s physiotherapy session, Lori was out on the sun deck with her laptop and a mug of coffee. She was so engrossed in the screen that she was oblivious to the therapist’s arrival until Jo coughed politely. Looking up, Lori blushed, “Sorry. I was catching up on my mail. Four months’ worth.”
“No worries,” said Jo, taking a seat. “How are you today? Mary says you were out on the beach earlier.”
“I’m good,” replied Lori, switching off the laptop. “Really good actually. Watching dolphins play just after sunrise is a beautiful start to the day.”
Jo laughed and said, “I couldn’t agree more. Now how did it go with the doctor’s appointment?”
With one eyebrow, raised Lori answered, “I’m sure you know, Mrs Brent. You never said you were a doctor’s wife?”
“Sorry,” apologised Jo. “We don’t discuss patients at home, but, yes, John was very impressed with you. We’ve had a chat about the way forward and I’ve revised the rehab plan.”
“So, what does Plan B look like?”
“Well, we need to build up some stamina as well as the stretching and resistance work while keeping up the strength work. The first goal is to lose the crutches when you’re indoors and be comfortable on one outdoors,” began Jo.
“I’m barely comfortable on two outdoors!” protested Lori sharply, nerves starting to flood through her.
“I know, so we need to work on that. How long had you been on crutches before you came down here?”
“About ten days,” replied Lori quietly. “The clinic in New York kept me on the walker until my hip and wrist fully healed.”
“Your hip and wrist?” queried Jo. “There was nothing in your case file about any other injuries other than your leg. And you never mentioned them.”
Lori shrugged and murmured, “Maybe you should call them.”
“Or,” suggested Jo, “You could tell me what happened?”
“Someday. Maybe,” said Lori bluntly. “But not today.”
Sensing the girl’s stress and anxiety at the prospect of recalling the accident, Jo backed off, but not before asking her to expand on the details of the hip and wrist injury.
“I fractured my right wrist and suffered a pelvic fracture on the right side. They put some kind of mesh wire support in my pelvis to allow the bone to knit better,” explained Lori quietly, without looking up.
“Thanks, Lori,” said Jo warmly. “I’ll call the clinic when I get back to the office. They should have sent me the whole file. And, in hindsight, I should have asked you before now.”
There was a moment’s awkward silence before Jo said, “Let’s go for some stamina work today. We’re going for a walk along the beach.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Once they were across the soft sand and onto the firmer damp surface, Jo asked Lori to pass her one of the crutches. Nervously, she handed one over and they continued their walk slowly along the hard packed sand. As they walked, the physiotherapist apologised for distressing her earlier.
“It’s ok, Jo,” said Lori, stopping for a rest. “I’m sorry too. I just can’t talk about it much yet. Some wounds are still too raw.”
“Did you get any counselling in New York?”
“Some,” admitted Lori, with a sigh. “The police sent someone to talk to me too.”
“I could arrange more sessions for you here,” suggested Jo. “It might help.”
“I’ll think about it,” agreed Lori. “But, I think, I’m ok for now. Jake’s good therapy and I’ve been doing a little exploration about going back to work.”
“Work?”
“I was, well, I am, a freelance artist,” explained Lori. “That’s what I was doing when you arrived. Checking through my business email box.”
“An artist?” echoed Jo curiously. “What kind of art?”
“Album covers and graphic art for the music industry mainly,” answered Lori. “I’ve been playing with a few designs over the last few days. It’s been fun.”
“You’ll need to show me some of your work sometime,” said Jo, handing her back her second crutch. “Back to two for a while.”
“Are we turning back?”
“Not yet, unless you want to. How’s
the leg holding up?”
“I’m good,” replied Lori, settling herself back onto both crutches.
By the time they returned to the house almost an hour later, Lori was limping heavily. The physiotherapist told her to lie down on the sun lounger and she put her leg through a short but intense stretching routine. She finished their session with a deep muscle relaxing massage.
“Rest for at least an hour,” she instructed. “I’m going to call that clinic and fill John in. Depending on what I find out, he may call you in for another appointment next week.”
“Dr Brent knows about the pelvic injury,” confessed Lori. “It showed up on the x-rays.”
“Typical,” muttered Jo. “Ok. Have a quiet weekend and I’ll see you on Monday. Usual time.”
“Monday,” agreed Lori, through a yawn. “Looking forward to it.”
When Mary brought her lunch out an hour or so later, Lori was sound asleep. The housekeeper let her sleep on.
♪
Claustrophobia, and a degree of cabin fever, was setting in by the early hours of Sunday morning. Silver Lake had been locked away for five hours and had three to go. The bass and drum tracks had been completed, leaving Grey and Paul hanging about playing poker and helping where they could. Work on the guitar tracks had been slow and, at times painful, but at last they were almost there. Both Rich and Jake were flagging, the lack of sleep catching up with them. They knew time was running short and Rich was conscious that he wanted to leave Jake enough time for the vocal tracks. Finally, shortly before three in the morning, Rich declared he was done. He practically threw his guitar onto the settee in the corner, then walked off to get some air.
“Let’s take a short break,” called one of the guys from the booth. “Back in fifteen.”
In his heart of hearts, Jake knew if he took a break now he wouldn’t start again. He was almost spent and no amount of caffeine could keep him going much longer. He laid down his electric guitar, acutely aware that he had two tracks to go, and picked up his beloved acoustic instrument. Casually, he played and sang for himself, the two newly composed ballads he was working on. It was relaxation enough for him. Soon, he was lost in his music and the recording studio claustrophobia was banished from his mind. Just playing and singing for the sheer pleasure of it was good for his soul. None of the band interrupted him. No one broke into his psyche. When he finished, he laid the acoustic guitar back in its case and picked up his dark red electric instrument.
Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 6