Father and daughter had been playing for almost an hour when Lori came back out to join then.
“Sounding good, angel,” praised Lori as she stretched out on one of the sun loungers.
“My fingers hurt,” said the little girl, rubbing at the tips of the fingers of her left hand.
She handed Jake her guitar. It felt tiny to his long fingers but, having brought it back into tune, he began to play Stronger Within. He played the start of the Silver Lake ballad then stopped, as he felt a fresh wave of grief approaching.
“Time for bed, Miss Melody,” he declared, setting the guitar down carefully. “Your guitar’s too narrow for me. I’ll play for you tomorrow if you practice hard again. You did great tonight.”
“Deal!” agreed Melody, reaching out to hug him. “Night night, Daddy. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
While Lori took Melody indoors to get her ready for bed, Jake picked up his daughter’s guitar. Playing the Silver Lake song had felt wrong. True, he had written it for and about Lori, but hearing it when the wounds of grief were still so open and raw had been too painful. As he gently strummed the half-sized guitar, a new melody came to him. Struggling with the narrow neck, Jake played the melodic hook over a few times then began to expand on it and develop it further. He could hear lyrics in his head but decided against going inside to fetch his journal. Allowing the music to consume him, he sat playing and working on it, oblivious to the world around him. When he eventually stopped, Lori said, “That’s quite something.”
“Didn’t hear you come back out,” commented Jake as he carefully laid Melody’s guitar down.
“I’ve been back out here for a while,” confessed Lori softly. “Didn’t want to break the spell. That was beautiful.”
“Thanks. Started off just playing then it all came together,” replied Jake. “Will try it later on my own guitar. Melody’s is a bit on the small side.”
“She’s doing really well with it though, isn’t she?”
“She sure is. Lots of natural talent in that young lady. I just don’t want to push her too hard. Music should be fun,” said Jake. “I don’t want to destroy that.”
“She said she asked you if you were still a rock star. She’s worrying that she upset you.”
With a wistful smile, Jake said, “She did indeed. Kind of voiced the question the rest of us avoided all day.”
“And are you?” quizzed Lori quietly.
“I’m not sure. Too soon to commit to that,” admitted Jake, running his hand over the Silver Lake dragon emblem on the small guitar. “I still have my Weigh Station role so I suppose I’m still a rock star. Lord knows what the future holds for Silver Lake.”
“There’s no need to think about that for now,” soothed Lori softly. “All of you need space and time here to grieve and to heal.”
“How do we heal from this?”
The question hung in the air unanswered.
The following couple of weeks were hard for the three surviving members of Silver Lake. Once the record label and the band’s management team issued a statement to the media, breaking the news of Rich’s sudden death, journalists began to plague the band requesting interviews. Stepping in to protect the boys, while putting their own grief to one side, Jethro and Maddy asked that the remaining members of the group be given some privacy, promising that the band would hold a press conference when the time was right. No timelines were promised. Each band member was grieving in their own way and that was going to take time…. a long time.
Surrounding himself with the love of his family, Jake stayed close to the house. In the first light of dawn, he would slip out and run, pounding mile after mile along the sand. During the day, he’d play “Daddy”, entertaining his young children and indulging their whims. Sensing he needed this time with them to heal the wounds of grief, Lori let him spoil them a little, turning a blind eye to the number of ice creams that ruined their appetites for dinner and to the late bedtimes that were creeping in.
After dinner each evening, Jake and Melody would spend time together either on the deck or down in the basement, focussed on the little girl’s guitar lessons. Investing the teaching time was proving to be therapeutic for Jake and he never ceased to be amazed by his daughter’s dedication to her lessons. She was soaking up everything he taught her. Not every lesson came easily to her but Melody had her mother’s stubborn streak, refusing to give up on the trickier exercises Jake set her until she had mastered them.
Out with the sanctuary of the beach house, the world kept turning and arrangements were made for Rich’s funeral service. Both Jethro and Maddy had helped Maria Santiago with the formalities of getting Rich’s body released then transported back home. Initially, Maria had wanted to take him to Florida but then changed her mind, saying she wanted her brother laid to rest with their parents and grandparents. Eventually, the arrangements for a private funeral service and burial were in place. Details of the service were kept from the press and only those invited to attend were privy to the date, time and location.
The mercury levels were touching ninety degrees as Jake and Lori drove up the Coastal Highway to the cemetery. At Maria’s request, there was to be no church service, merely a few words over the grave. She stated
