Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1)

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Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 34

by McCallum, Coral


  “Simon always did like the girls,” commented Jake, with a grin.

  “You missed Lucy,” continued Ben. “She was here yesterday with the boys. She said to say “Hi.” I asked her to stay until today, but she had to rush home. Always rushing somewhere that girl.”

  Turning to Lori, Ben asked, “Do you have any family here?”

  “No, sir. My parents both passed away a few years ago. I was an only child. I’ve a few cousins scattered around but I’m not good at keeping in touch.”

  Over lunch, with the ice melting between the two Power men, they chatted about Ben’s sailing adventures, Jake’s three recent concerts with Silver Lake and the plans for the band for the future. Much to Jake’s surprise, his father said, if they were ever playing near where he happened to be, he would like to hear them. As the waitress brought their coffees, Lori asked, “Where do you sail to next?”

  “We leave here tomorrow night, then we are heading up the coast to Long Island. There’s a series of races up there that we do every year. After that, we’ll bring the boat back here,” replied the colonel, as he added sugar to his coffee.

  “When you come back, perhaps you could visit us over in Rehoboth,” suggested Lori, not daring to look at Jake.

  “Perhaps,” he replied non-committedly. “I’m hoping to pick up a delivery trip or two toward the end of the season.”

  “Consider it an open invitation,” said Jake, smiling at Lori. “Bridges to build and all that.”

  “True,” agreed his father. He paused for a moment, then added, “To be honest, son, I expected you to tell me where to get off earlier.”

  “I was tempted,” admitted Jake, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “But Lori would never forgive me if I didn’t give you a second chance.”

  “Then, Lori,” declared Ben, somewhat theatrically, “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  With the check paid, Ben asked if they felt like a walk through the marina to see the yacht. Both of them were more than happy to go for a stroll before sitting in the car for another two hours for the drive home. Stepping out of the air-conditioned restaurant into the heat of the day was like standing in front of a hot oven with its door open. As they strolled down towards the pontoons, Jake rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned his shirt. Once down on the floating pontoons, he put a steadying arm around Lori’s waist and whispered, “Don’t want you falling in, li’l lady.”

  They passed several other people as they made their way through the maze of yachts and motor cruisers, all of whom called out to Ben or waved. Eventually, they reached the end of the main pontoon and the colonel guided them down a narrower one towards a huge white yacht.

  “She’s not all mine,” he admitted, with a hint of pride in his voice. “But I own a half share of her. Do you have time to come aboard for a drink?”

  “Sure, Dad,” said Jake, before turning to Lori. “Don’t panic. I’ll lift you up on deck.”

  “Thanks. I was wondering how I was going to climb up there,” she replied, with obvious relief.

  “Don’t fret, princess,” added Ben, flashing her a classic Power smile. “We’ll see you safely aboard.”

  With a well-practiced manoeuvre, the colonel climbed on board and opened up a section of the guard rail. As he reached down to take Lori’s hands, Jake lifted her up. Both of them held onto her until she had regained her balance, then Jake passed her cane up to her. Taking care not to jar his knee, he too climbed up, gratefully accepting a helping hand from his father.

  “Shoes off, folks,” declared Ben firmly. “Only deck shoes or bare feet allowed.”

  Having slipped their shoes off and set them to one side, Ben led them towards the cockpit and invited them to take a seat. At the sound of voices on deck, a young man came up from below.

  “Hi, skipper,” he greeted Ben. “I wasn’t expecting you back yet.”

  “I brought my son to survey the premises,” he explained. “Steve, this is Jake and his friend Lori. Jake, this is the guy I was telling you about who watched you get shot.”

  “Pleased to meet you both,” mumbled Steve, suddenly somewhat star struck. “That was some gig.”

  “Memorable to say the least,” joked Jake. “Scarred me for life.”

  “Join us for a drink, Steve,” offered Ben warmly. “What can I get everyone?”

  While his father went below deck to fetch the drinks, Jake slipped off his shirt.

  “I told you black was a bad idea,” giggled Lori, as he sat down beside her.

  “Ok, you were right,” he conceded, laying the folded shirt beside him.

  Reappearing with a small cooler full of soft drinks and beers, Ben stared at his son’s tattooed torso. Passing a can of soda and a plastic cup to him, he said, “That’s some art gallery. You only had the sword and that dragon the last time I looked.”

  “And you never approved of them,” stated Jake.

  “They’re awesome!” gushed Steve. “Must’ve hurt like Hell.”

  “Some did,” admitted Jake, with a grin. “Mainly the ones over my rib cage.”

  “Is that the music to Stronger Within on your arm?”

  “Well spotted,” he laughed. “Do you play in a band or anything?”

  Steve shook his head, “I play a bit of guitar but I’m not that good yet.”

  “Well, if you’re ever in Rehoboth look us up and we’ll give you a few lessons. Rich and I both teach music,” Jake offered.

  “You teach?” echoed Ben, sounding surprised.

  “Yes,” replied Jake. “Remember, I graduated college and got my teaching diploma. I teach music at a local high school. I’ve also taught guitar from home too over the years.”

  “I never knew.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Touché, son,” he conceded, sitting down on the opposite side of the spacious cockpit.

  Somewhat nervously, Steve turned to Lori and asked, “You’re Mz Hyde, aren’t you?”

  “Most days,” she replied warmly.

  “And Stronger Within was written for you?”

  “Yes, it was,” answered Jake. “As was Lady Butterfly.”

  “Can I get your autographs, or photos or something?” blurted out the younger man, causing them all to laugh.

  “Relax, Steve,” said Ben, clapping the boy on the back. “This is just my son and his girlfriend.”

  “It’s alright,” interrupted Lori. “Jake needs to get used to this fan bit.”

  “She’s right,” agreed Jake, looking embarrassed. “I’m useless at it.”

  Shaking his head, Ben watched the young man scamper back below deck in search of his phone and something to be autographed. “If I’d known this was the effect you two would have on my crew I’d have thought twice about bringing you on board.”

  They were all still laughing when Steve returned with his phone, a piece of paper, a copy of Silver Lake’s CD and a couple of pens. Ben played photographer, taking several shots of his young crew member with Jake, with Lori and with both of them. In between shots, Lori picked up the piece of paper and expertly doodled a quick basic Celtic knot design with dragon eyes and tail. She signed it with her usual Mz Hyde flourish, then passed it to Jake to autograph. He scribbled a message to Steve then signed his name below Lori’s. Carefully, he opened the CD box and slipped out the slim booklet and signed his name across one corner of the front cover, before adding another personalised message to the back.

  “Thanks!” exclaimed Steve, admiring his Mz Hyde original. “I’m going to frame that.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first,” laughed Jake. “Rich has one of Lori’s doodles on a Hooters napkin framed and hanging proudly in his bathroom.”

  “Is that where he put it?” giggled Lori, remembering the look on the guitarist’s face when her identity had been revealed.

  “I’m feeling left out here,” joked Ben, joining in with the banter. “Will you draw something for me?”

  Steve ran to fetch another piece of paper and Lori quickly
sketched a basic yacht, decorating the hull with music notes, then signed it and passed it to the colonel. Smiling, he handed it over to Jake, “You too, son.”

  A short while later, they both apologised that they would need to make a move. They said goodbye to Steve then Ben walked them back through the marina to the car. Making the first awkward move, Jake hugged his father, “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I’ll do my best, son,” he promised. “And thank you for today. Who knows, maybe one day the four of you will all get together with me.”

  “Who knows, Dad,” replied Jake. “I’ll call Lucy but I’m not sure about the others. There’s a lot of unfinished business there.”

  “Speaking to your sister is a start.”

  Turning to Lori, the colonel gave her a huge hug, “It’s been a pleasure, Lori. I’m glad he’s finally found someone,” then added, “And I’m glad you’re not a guy.”

  “I told you!” laughed Jake loudly. His father looked at him quizzically. “I said to Lori that you’d have assumed I was bringing a guy along.”

  Ben blushed and hung his head in embarrassment, “Well, with that long hair and those tight jeans, who can blame a man?”

  ♪

  Dr Novak’s waiting room was empty when Jake walked in and the doctor herself was standing chatting to the receptionist. At the sound of the door squeaking open, they both turned round.

  “Hi,” said Jake, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Am I early or something?”

  “Not at all, Jake,” assured the doctor warmly. “I had a couple of cancellations earlier in the morning and got right up to date. You’re bang on time.”

  “Makes a change,” he said, trying hard not to laugh.

  “You’re sounding much better,” observed the doctor. “Come on through and we’ll see how you’re doing.”

  He followed her along the corridor and into her neat and tidy office. Closing the door behind them, the doctor commented, “No hint of a limp today either.”

  “I’ve been a good boy all week,” he joked, taking a seat at the side of her desk.

  “Glad to hear it,” she said, as she sat down. “Now, how did the week go?”

  Quickly, he filled her in on his three days in silent, solitary confinement, then detailed exactly what he had done since Thursday. She nodded approvingly when she learned he had managed a full seventy two hours of complete vocal rest.

  “I’ll start with your knee,” she said when he was done. “Up on the couch. Can you please slip your jeans off?”

  Having taken his boots and his tight jeans off, Jake sat up on the couch and let her manipulate his knee. It was still tender to the touch along the scar line, but the swelling from the previous week was long gone.

  “I’m happy with that,” said the doctor then added, “I meant to say last week, nice ink on your calves.”

  “Thanks,” said Jake, blushing slightly. “Just part of the personal art gallery.”

  “You’ve more?” she asked then said, “I see there’s one on your forearm too.”

  “Just a few,” confessed Jake, getting down from the couch. “Let me get my pants back on and I’ll show you, if you like?”

  “I’m curious now,” giggled the doctor. “Is this going to make my tiny circle of stars look pathetic?”

  Having fastened his belt, Jake unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. The doctor stared in amazed admiration at the five large tattoos.

  “That sword on your back is fabulous,” she complimented.

  “Thank you,” said Jake, putting his shirt back on.

  “Any plans for any more?”

  “Never say never,” he replied. “The music notes were the last one a couple of months ago. If the right design comes up, I’d think about it.”

  “Once your fans see those, I’m sure there will be plenty copies done.”

  “No doubt,” he conceded with a resigned smile

  “Back to business,” stated the doctor softly. “Let’s take a look at your throat.”

  As before, she looked down his throat, in his ears and palpitated the glands at his neck. When she was done, she asked if he had tried to sing. Jake shook his head.

  “I want you to run through a few of your normal warm up exercises for me.”

  Taking a deep breath, Jake began with a few gentle scales, gradually moving up the octaves of his range. He then repeated the exercise in reverse, going smoothly down the octave. It sounded normal.

  “Sounds alright to me so far,” said Dr Novak. “But I’m not fully aware of your range prior to last week. How does it feel to you?”

  “I don’t want to push the top notes just yet,” commented Jake calmly. “Otherwise, it felt ok. A bit huskier than usual, maybe. Throat’s still a bit tight from not being used.”

  “Run through them again, then try actually singing as you would on stage,” instructed the doctor. “But don’t force it.”

  Jake did as he was asked then couldn’t decide what to sing. He felt foolish standing in the doctor’s office singing, but Dr Novak insisted.

  “I wish I had my guitar,” he muttered.

  “What about the song you’ve got tattooed on your arm?” suggested the doctor, in an effort to help matters.

  Jake nodded and, closing his eyes, he began to sing the first verse and chorus of Stronger Within. As he sang, he could feel the tension melt from his shoulders. His voice was still there. After the chorus, the doctor stopped him “I’m guessing you don’t always sing so melodically. Try something harder. More challenging. Just a verse or a chorus.”

  Nodding, Jake took a deep breath and launched into Flyin’ High. Again the doctor stopped him after a verse and a chorus. “That’s some contrast in style!”

  “The fans like the occasional softer track,” he said quietly.

  “And how does the throat feel?”

  “Out of practice, I guess,” he replied. “It’s not sore and the tightness has eased now I’ve warmed up a bit.”

  “Good,” replied Dr Novak. “I spoke to my friend and he’s given me a few web links to vocal tuition sites he uses. He suggested you use those to learn the basics of the technique. He also said it was fine for me to pass on his phone number and email address. If you want to talk to him and run through a few exercises, he’s more than happy to help.”

  “Thank you,” said Jake, accepting the sheet of information from her. “I have been doing a bit of research myself. I think I’ve found the stuff he’s talking about, but it would be good to talk to him about it.”

  “Well, he’s in New York until the end of the month. Call him,” suggested the doctor. “His name’s Tony.”

  “I will. So am I good to go back into rehearsals and performing?”

  “Take it slowly. Build things back up gradually. If you can, don’t use either extreme of your range for another couple of weeks. When’s your next performance?”

  “We’ve got a series of radio station promo events over the next month. If all goes to plan, we go out on tour in November,” he explained.

  “Give me a call in a couple of weeks to update me. Any problems before then just drop in. I’ll see you without an appointment if need be.”

  “Appreciate it. Thanks, doc,” said Jake warmly. “Am I ok to start running again on that knee?”

  “Gently at first. Any sign of swelling and I want you to stop and rest it for a further week.”

  “Deal.”

  “Then you’re good to go, Mr Power,” she said.

  As soon as he was back outside, Jake called Lori and Maddy to let them know he was back in business. He then sent a message to the band, suggesting they meet up later for a rehearsal. A few text messages later plus another call to Lori, it was arranged that Silver Lake would meet up at the beach house at seven. With the truck’s stereo blasting out Weigh Station’s latest offering, Jake headed back into Rehoboth. He stopped off at his apartment to pick up two electric guitars, his practice amp and a spare mic then drove back out to the beach house. Lo
ri was at her drawing board when he came in the back door, clattering his guitar cases off the door frame. Hearing him cursing under his breath, she shouted hello.

  “Back in a minute,” he called, as he disappeared back out to fetch the rest of his gear from the truck.

  A few moments later, he came through to the study, came up behind her and kissed her on the nape of the neck.

  “Mmmm, what was that for?” she purred.

  “Just because,” he replied, softly kissing her again. “And to say thanks for letting the band come over here again tonight.”

  “Not a problem. Becky and I will watch a movie while you boys rehearse,” she replied. “Now, I hate to say this, but I’m working. Go play with your toys in the basement.”

  “Is that our backdrop?” asked Jake, peeking over her shoulder at the partially finished design on the board.

  “If you give me peace to work on it for a while, it might be,” she replied, sharply. “Maddy wants it for your meeting on Wednesday.”

  “No pressure then?” he laughed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, turning her focus back to the design in front of her.

  Half an hour later she could hear Jake starting his warm up exercises. Despite the lack of tune to them, it was nice to hear his voice again. With a smile, she re-focussed on the task at hand. The design was gradually taking shape. What she hadn’t told Jake was that Maddy had ordered two designs for Wednesday. It was an unreasonable timeframe, but, if she could at least have them drafted, it should be enough for the band to make a decision as to which one they preferred. She had already completed a couple of draft drumheads for Paul and mailed them on to Maddy and Jason.

  Eventually Jake’s warm up was complete and she heard him tune up his guitars. So much for peace and quiet, she thought as she surveyed her work. The concept tied in with previous work she had prepared for Silver Lake but she wasn’t entirely happy with it. As she listened to Jake practice a fresh idea started to form in her mind. Casting aside the half-finished design, she started to sketch out an alternative backdrop. This one felt right and, as her passion for it took control, the design seemed to burst forth from the page almost drawing itself. She was still immersed in her creative world when Jake came back upstairs.

 

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