“Will the band keep going?”
“In time, yes, I think so” replied Jake, forcing a smile. “He’d never forgive us if we didn’t! I just can’t say when. We had tentative plans to start work on our next album in the fall. We’ve not really spoken about this as a band yet. Nothing about the future has been agreed.”
“I heard a rumour that you are filling one of the commitments Rich left behind and are going back to teach a music workshop. Is that true?”
“Yeah. I’m back in class on Monday,” revealed the Silver Lake frontman with a shy smile. “Rich had agreed to teach a two-week summer school class at the high school where we both taught before the band took off. Over the years we’ve been back a few times to do the occasional workshop but nothing like this. I’ve agreed to take his place. I’m not sure I’ve prepared the same lessons he had in mind but I have a plan.”
“How long since you taught music?” laughed Debbie. “Must be quite a while?”
“You’d be surprised,” he said quietly. “I’m teaching my daughter to play just now. It’s been about four years since I taught a workshop. We’ve done the occasional day visit to the school but nothing this big since we left to pursue our careers with Silver Lake.”
“And how are you getting on teaching Melody? How old is she now? Four?”
“Miss Melody is five,” corrected Jake. “And she’s a natural musician. For someone so young, she’s determined to learn. She’s focussed on the lessons. She practices without being asked to. I’ve been super impressed with her so far.”
“Another rock star in the making?”
“Who knows!”
“What’s been the hardest part of the past few weeks?”
For a moment, Jake looked thoughtful and Debbie wondered if he was going to answer.
“I guess just trying to come to terms with the fact he’s not here. It would be easy to think “Oh, he’s down in Florida fishing” but, in reality, he’s left a huge black hole in our lives. A Rich shaped hole. Each of us has admitted that we’ve either gone to call or message him then remembered he’s gone.” He paused then whispered, “That’s hard.”
“Thanks, Jake. Let’s leave it there.”
With a sigh of relief, Jake nodded.
As they finished their drinks, Jake and Debbie reminisced about past interviews and radio show appearances. Amid the sombre moments, they found some anecdotes to laugh about and some happier memories to hold onto.
“It’s funny,” began Jake. “The kids really help with all of this. They see things differently. More clearly. They just ask what’s on their minds. We were at dinner the other night in Baltimore. At the Hard Rock Café, in fact. I was pointing out various pieces of memorabilia to the kids when Melody asked what would happen with Rich’s guitars. She asked if the Hard Rock guys would display them on the walls. To her, that would make perfect sense. To us, to me, it was like “They’re Rich’s guitars! We need to keep them for him.” It made me think.”
“Was he buried with any of them?”
The question caught Jake off guard and he felt himself nod before he realised it. Taking a deep breath to help to compose his thoughts, he explained, “Just between you and me, not for the interview, yes. Maria wanted him to have his favourite acoustic guitar with him. He’d had it forever. Wouldn’t let anyone else near it. I think I might have played it a couple of times over the years. She put it in his casket.”
“Did the rest of the band put anything in?”
Jake shook his head. “I tossed a few picks into the grave. I don’t really know what Grey and Paul did.”
“When the time is right, what kind of memorial show would Rich appreciate?” asked Debbie, subtly trying to glean some fresh insight into the band’s plans.
“Something small and local,” said Jake. “Rich always preferred smaller venues. Two-thousand-seater max. Maybe we’ll do it in Florida. He always loved our shows down there best. It’s way too soon to say for sure.”
Glancing at the time, Debbie apologised that she would need to head off. Inwardly, Jake was relieved. As she gathered up her phone and her sunglasses, Debbie promised to send Jethro a copy of the final recording for approval before airing it on her radio show. Still wrestling with his emotions, Jake nodded. With a smile, Debbie said her goodbyes then dashed off up the street.
Instead of heading straight home, Jake ordered a sweet iced tea to go then wandered back down onto the beach. Lost in his thoughts, he meandered along the hard-packed wet sand towards home. Much as he loved living in Rehoboth, he wasn’t a fan of the tourist season and hated the beach being so crowded. He much preferred the end of the season, around the end of the first week in September, when the holidaymakers had left for the year and the locals could enjoy the last few days of warm sunshine in peace.
The crowds of sun-worshippers thinned out as he reached the end of the boardwalk and, by the time he was in front of the house, the beach was quiet. Not ready to face Lori and the kids yet, Jake sat down on the hot sand to finish his drink. Behind him, he could hear the children playing on the sun deck and smiled as he heard Melody laughing. She shared the same musical laugh as Lori and listening to it helped to banish some of the ghosts he’d brought along the beach with him. As ever, within a few short minutes, the laughter turned to tears and Jake could hear Jesse wailing loudly.
Downing the last of the cold sweet tea, Jake
