Silently, he put his arms round her and held her tight. The thought of being separated from her for another three days was nearly as painful as not being able to talk. Jake stroked her hair, feeling tears of anger and frustration pricking at his eyes. Gently, while he still had a slender hold over his emotions, he kissed her on the top of her head. Drinking in her perfume, he kissed her again, then reached for another bit of paper.
“Love you. Going now. Will text you later.”
Nodding, she said with a sad smile, “I’ll talk to you on Thursday.”
With a weak smile, he hugged her again, then turned and left. He didn’t glance back as she hoped; he didn’t want her to see his tears.
♪
As soon as Jake opened the door to his apartment, a stale smell assaulted his senses. Before going back down to the truck for the rest of his bags and his guitars, he threw open all the windows and let the ocean air flow through the place. It took three trips up and down but, eventually, he had all his gear piled in the middle of the living room. Turning the key in the front door lock felt like a jail cell slamming shut on him.
Within a few short hours, Jake had straightened up the place, done all his laundry, checked over his guitars, restringing two of them, and drunk about two pints of warm water with honey added. The anti-inflammatory drugs had helped his knee, sparing him the incessant ache. The clock on his phone informed him it was just after nine. Late enough, he decided and headed off to bed. Before turning out the light, he sent messages to his fellow band members explaining that he was in hibernation for three days and not to call or come over. He prayed they would understand his need to be alone. He also sent a short message to Lori then switched the phone off. As he lay staring up at his plain white ceiling, sleep refused to come. The deafening silence of the apartment was terrifying. He tried to ignore the dark voice whispering in his mind; tried to ignore its taunt of “your dream is over.” Jake could feel his own fears beginning to gnaw at him. Being centre stage in each of those three arenas had been the best experience of his life. Hearing the Seattle crowd singing his songs back to him had been incredible. Even the ill-fated duet with Tori was a memory that would live with him forever. If he couldn’t sing like that again in front of a crowd, then he honestly didn’t know how he would cope. The rational part of his brain scolded him for being overly melodramatic, but he was genuinely scared. Eventually sleep came, a sleep filled with haunted dreams of a devil slicing out his tongue and condemning him to a life without song.
Tuesday and Wednesday were the two longest days of his life; two of the darkest days of his life. Having made the conscious decision to shut out the world, his phone lay switched off, his laptop shut down on the coffee table and his entertainment centre remained unplugged. He passed the time silently reading a Stephen King tome he had picked up at the newsstand in the airport in Sacramento, shortly before boarding the flight to Seattle. Time was measured by his drug schedule and hot water laced with honey routine. Most of the food he had bought lay in the refrigerator untouched, his appetite having deserted him. Sleep, too, deserted him. By late on Wednesday afternoon, he could feel the walls closing in on him. His beloved acoustic guitar sat in its case in the corner of the living room gently calling out to him. As the sun set and the light in the room became an orange glow, a dark, haunting melody began to fill his head. Try as he might, Jake couldn’t ignore it. After two hours, his creative side succumbed and he undid the catches on the guitar case then slowly lifted the instrument out. Still locked in his silent prison, Jake sat and worked on the piece until the small hours of Thursday morning. Satisfied at last with the piece of music, he decided to record it onto his laptop. Pressing the power button, Jake slowly felt his world returning to him. Once he had everything all set up, he recorded the new melody, then recorded the accompanying riff that had evolved as the evening wore on. Finally, he recorded the bridge. The song was still wordless but his confidence that these would come in time grew as he played the track back to himself. Now that the PC was powered up, Jake decided to open his emails. His inbox was crammed full of unread mails – most of which were advertising junk. Before this infuriated him further, he tweaked his junk mail filters, then returned to his inbox. There was one email from Maddy that caught his attention. The subject heading was “Silver Lake album and merchandising artwork.” He opened the message, scanning the details about a band meeting scheduled for Friday to discuss the attachments. Jake opened the first of four attachments to reveal the three draft designs for the album cover, each significantly different. Instantly his eyes were drawn to the distinctive signature on the drawings. He opened the other three attachments and found a variety of other designs tagged as t-short proposals and miscellaneous. One proposed album design caught his eye - a dragon, with its wings spread out nestled inside an intricate Celtic knot. The twist of its tail reminded him of the Celtic trinity that was in the band’s logo. When had Lori found time to complete this portfolio? Why hadn’t she told him? Suddenly, he desperately wanted to talk to her, but it was four o’clock in the morning. Smiling for the first time since Monday, Jake reached for his phone and turned it on. A barrage of text alerts pinged through – he ignored them for now. Quickly he typed, “Love the designs. Love the Celtic dragon knot. Love you. J x”. He hit send.
There were more than fifty messages on his phone and, as he read his way through them, Jake realised that more than thirty of them were from Lori, each sounding more concerned and worried than its predecessor. Like an oncoming freight train, it hit him that perhaps he hadn’t been the only one struggling for the past three days. Guilt washed over him, drowning out the last of his self-pity. With a heavy heart he read over the other messages from Grey, Rich, Paul and Maddy. There were two from a number not in his contact directory; a number that looked vaguely familiar. He opened the first –“Hello, son. Give me a call.” The second read “Son, I’m in Annapolis until Monday morning. Can we meet up? Dad.”
It had been five years since he had last seen his father. They had never been close, never shared any common ground. His father had been in the air force, based out of Dover for most of Jake’s childhood, and had retired more than ten years before. Since then he had spent his time sailing and delivering yachts, mainly in and around the Caribbean. The last time Jake had seen him had been at his mother’s funeral. His parents had divorced shortly after his father retired, but they had remained close until cancer finally killed Jake’s mother slowly and painfully. Her funeral was the last time he had seen any of his family, apart from his younger sister. He kept in irregular contact with her, but rarely heard from his two older brothers. Both of them had followed their father into the air force. Jake had always been made to feel that in that respect he was the family disappointment. He wondered why his father had reached out to him now. Why was he wanting to see him after all this time? What harm could it do to meet him for dinner or lunch?
“Hi,” he began to type. “Can do Sunday. Let me know where and when. Will bring a friend. Jake.” He sent the message before he had a change of heart.
Suddenly he felt tired- physically and emotionally. He switched off his laptop, set his phone to mute and headed off to bed. For the first time since before the short tour, he slept undisturbed for more than ten hours.
It was mid-afternoon before Jake finally awake. The sound sleep had done him the world of good. His knee felt good; his throat felt normal. His voice he was still scared to try. With a stretch, he dragged himself out of bed and into his tiny shower. Once out of the shower, he checked his phone for messages. There were two. One from his father, saying he would get back to him when he had booked a table. The other was from Lori. “Glad you like them. Love you too. See you later. L x”
“Will be over in an hour, J x,” he replied.
Quickly he threw on his favourite ripped jeans, a red checked shirt, dragged a brush through his wet, tangled hair then stuffed his feet into his battered Converse. Having thrown a few spare clothes in his gym bag,
Jake grabbed his laptop, his guitar and his keys. With a smile, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the narrow hallway, ready to face the world again.
♪
On his way over to the beach house, he detoured out to the food store. As he drove, he cranked the volume up on the truck’s stereo, filling the cab with the greatest hits of Guns n Roses. It took the last remaining shreds of his will power not to sing along in his usual fashion. Swinging the truck into the driveway a short while later, he turned the volume down to a more acceptable level. Without a thought to his knee, he jumped down from the cab and loped round the side of the house. As he had hoped, Lori was dosing in the late afternoon sun out on the deck. Carrying the huge bouquet of flowers he had bought at the store, Jake tiptoed across the deck. Trying to hide the bouquet behind his back, he bent down to kiss the sleeping artist.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently. The first words he had dared to utter. “I’ve been a selfish jerk for the last few days.”
“Jake!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you, rock star.”
“Love you back, li’l lady,” he said, presenting her with the flowers, then added, “Peace offering.”
“They’re gorgeous. You didn’t need to bring flowers.”
Jake smiled. Her glowing smile was reassurance enough that he had been forgiven for being so self-centred.
“I’d better put them in some water,” said Lori, getting up. “Want a juice?”
“Please. Anything but hot water and honey,” he replied with a grin.
“So how’s the throat feeling?” asked Lori, when she came back out with two glasses of apple juice.
“A bit tight but ok,” replied Jake quietly. “I’m scared I strain it.”
“That’s understandable,” she said, sitting beside him on the sun lounger. “I’ve spent the last few days fending off Maddy and the boys. They’ve been worried about your isolation stint.”
“Sorry,” he apologised sheepishly.
“Well, don’t be surprised if they all decide to join us for dinner. I’ve stocked up on burgers just in case. Maddy and Paul were over last night for dinner. Rich was here for breakfast, then Grey dropped by with Becky just after lunch,” said Lori. “They all know you’re going to be here for dinner.”
“Should I send them a message?”
“Are you staying tonight?” asked Lori, hopefully.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Text them, then light the BBQ.”
After a flurry of phone messages and a fair amount of muttering while trying to get the BBQ lit, Jake had everything under control. It was hot in the late afternoon sun and having stripped off his shirt and draped it over the back of a chair, he lay down on the sun lounger and closed his eyes. Lori had stepped back inside to change from her shorts into a long skirt. Small tendrils of smoke wafted across from the grill. In the background, Jake could hear the waves crashing in on the beach. Lying back on the lounger he drank in all the sounds and smells of the day. It struck him just how quickly life could turn around, as he reflected back to twenty fours earlier when he had felt so low. In his pocket, he felt his phone buzz. In the sunlight, he struggled to see the screen, but it was another message from his father.
“Table booked for lunch at 2 on Sunday at the restaurant at the marina. Hope this ok. Dad.”
“See you then,” he replied, still curious as to why his father wanted to meet up.
At that moment, Lori came back out onto the deck carrying some plastic cups and paper plates. As she set the things down on the table, she asked, “Have you figured out who’s joining us?”
“All of them. They were all in the Turtle,” replied Jake. “They’re walking over now.”
“Fine. Can you bring out the cooler? I’ve filled it with juices and beers and some ice. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Yes, boss,” he teased, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’d maybe better have a honey drink before they get here. I don’t need them ribbing me about it later.”
“Go easy on yourself,” cautioned Lori, her tone tender. “Not too much talking yet, just in case.”
Less than an hour later, the burgers were sizzling on the grill, Maddy and Lori were bringing salads and relishes out from the kitchen, Becky was contentedly watching TV and the four band members were all catching up with each other, as they sprawled across the sun deck. Rich had taken charge of the BBQ, ordering Jake to stay clear of the smoke. Happy to relinquish the cooking duties, Jake had gone back to the sun lounger without a word of complaint. Once all the food was out, Lori came and sat beside him. He draped a protective arm around her shoulders, kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Love you, li’l lady.”
“Love you too, rock star,” she purred, resting her head against his bare chest.
Within a few minutes, Rich was dishing up burgers and they were all scrabbling round the table for rolls, salad and relish. No one was standing on ceremony and the relaxed atmosphere gave it the feel of a family meal.
“You could almost have had that meeting here, Maddy,” declared Rich, between mouthfuls. “Save us all getting to the hotel for the crack of dawn.”
“Today’s for fun not business,” she retorted sharply. “Besides Jason’s dialling in from London for the meeting hence the early start. Be thankful it’s not earlier.”
“Jake,” called out Paul, dripping ketchup down his shirt from his burger, “Did you write any new material while you were in exile?”
“I’m working on something,” he confessed. “No lyrics for it yet.”
“Very funny,” groaned Grey. “When did the witch doctor say you could sing again?”
“Not till after I’ve seen her on Monday. Maybe longer than that,” answered Jake. “I’m not prepared to take any chances. I don’t fancy taking another vow of silence either.”
“Tough three days?” Paul enquired, raising an eyebrow.
Jake nodded.
“I emailed a friend from college,” began Rich, helping himself to a beer from the cool box. “He’s in musical theatre. His suggestion was to change your warm up routine. He said he’d mail me some info for you.”
“Thanks. Doc was doing the same. She mentioned an opera type technique.”
Laughing uncontrollably, Maddy gasped, “I can just see it now if I have to tell Jason that Silver Lake are doing La fucking Traviata!”
Shortly before eight, Maddy and Paul rose to leave, declaring that they were going back into town for a couple of hours. The others declined to join them, but Rich said he would walk Grey and Becky back along the beach. Within a few short minutes, Jake and Lori found themselves alone out on the deck, in the fading light of the day. Lori had lit the citronella lanterns to keep the bugs away and, as it grew darker, she lit another couple of outdoor candles. While she was on her feet, she began to tidy away the discarded plastic cups but was interrupted by Jake. “Leave those a minute. I need to talk to you.”
“You’ve no idea how good that sounds,” she giggled, then noticing his serious expression said, “There’s nothing wrong is there?”
“No,” he assured her, as she came to sit beside him. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” she replied. “Within reason.”
“Will you come with me to Annapolis on Sunday?”
“Sure, but why? It’s a two hour drive there.”
Gazing down at his feet, Jake said simply, “My dad’s invited us to lunch.”
“Your dad?” echoed Lori, sounding surprised. He had never talked about his family other than to say his mother had passed away a few years before.
He nodded, then added, “He contacted me the other day out of the blue. Wants to meet up this weekend. I haven’t seen him in five years.”
“Of course I’ll come, but are you sure you want me to?”
“I don’t want to go on my own,” he confessed quietly.
“You’ve never really spoken about your family,” commented Lo
ri softly. “Tell me to but out, but, did you have a fight with him? Five years is a long time.”
“No fight,” sighed Jake sadly. “We just never saw eye to eye about life. With Mom gone there was no need to see him or my brothers. I keep in touch with my young sister kind of. We exchange emails every few weeks.”
“So where are your brothers and sister?”
“Lucy lives just outside of Philly. She’s a grade school teacher. Married to a lawyer. They have two boys,” he explained awkwardly. “I’ve two older brothers. They both followed my dad into the air force. I’m not sure where they are based.”
“And you’ve no idea what your dad wants after all this time?”
“No idea,” admitted Jake. “But we’ll find out over lunch on Sunday. He’s expecting us at two.”
From his tone of voice and his body language, Lori knew it was hard for him to talk about his past and his family. She didn’t want to pry or push him for more answers. Instead, she reached out to hug him and said, “Well, we’ll find out together.”
“Thanks, li’l lady,” he said with a relieved sigh.
As they sat listening to the sounds of the ocean, their casual conversation inevitably turned back to the band and Jake finally asked her about the design portfolio she had prepared.
“No freebies this time,” she joked lightly. “Jason has paid me well for my blood, sweat and tears.”
“But when did you find time to work on it all?”
“A lot of late nights after you’d leave and a lot of early mornings,” she confessed. “I got a rough copy of four of the tracks you recorded in New York and worked the themes from the lyrics. When I heard Dragon Song was going to be your first venture into the singles market, I came up with the Celtic dragon design incorporating the knot. The smaller pieces are all extracts from the three main cover proposals.”
“You were working on two other commissions though, were you not?”
Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 32