“You given them a theme for it?”
“Fairground,” she revealed.
“Interesting topic,” mused Jake. “You could get some quirky unique stuff from that.”
“That’s the hope,” replied Nicole, leaning in closer in an attempt to see what he was writing.
Her citrusy perfume caught his attention as Jake calmly closed his journal over.
“Sorry,” she apologised, stepping back slightly. “Just curious.”
“It’s still a work in progress,” replied Jake then changing the subject asked, “Did you enjoy the show on Saturday?”
“Very much. You guys were incredible,” gushed Nicole. “I’ve no idea how you held it together.”
“Wasn’t easy,” admitted Jake. “The fans helped us through and our guests. Helped having our families there too.”
“I thought I might have seen you afterwards. I think we were in the same hotel.”
“We went to dinner then Lori and I went straight back to the hotel. The kids were wiped out,” explained Jake. “Was pretty wiped out myself.”
“No after-show parties?”
“Not for me,” laughed Jake a little awkwardly. “Some of the crew and Paul went out to a club. Not really my scene.”
“And what is your scene?” purred Nicole, taking a step towards him, her bare thigh brushing against his arm.
Behind them, the back door opened and Grey appeared beside them. He took in the scene before him then said coldly, “When you’re ready, Mr Power.”
“Coming,” replied Jake, relieved to have been rescued from Nicole. “Not quite finished those lyrics.”
“Been distracted?” accused Grey sourly.
“What you on about?”
Following Grey inside, Jake left Nicole standing in the sun, gazing after them.
Once inside, with the fire door slammed shut, Grey turned to face Jake, “What the hell are you playing at, Jake?”
“What you talking about?”
“Her!” spat Grey brusquely. “What’s she doing out here, apart from drooling all over you?”
“Nicole? She’s here to see Jim,” answered Jake then, as he realised what his friend was implying, added, “And I’m not interested in her!”
“Well, she’s sure as hell interested in you!” growled the band’s bass player then, softening his tone, cautioned, “Be careful around her, Jake. She makes me uneasy. She’s got her eye on you and she strikes me as the determined type.”
“She’s just a bit lonely. Still new in town. Mid- divorce too.”
“Looked to me like she’s looking for the next husband! Just watch her, Jake. Keep your distance.”
“I’m not interested in her, Grey. I’m not about to cheat on my wife!”
“I sure as hell hope not,” muttered the bass player. “Let’s get back to work.”
As he parked the truck in his usual spot under the tree, Jake could hear the kids squealing and arguing round the back of the house. Grabbing his book bag and stuffing the key fob into his pocket, he hurried round the side of the house.
“What’s all the yelling about, kids?” he asked as he stepped up onto the deck.
“Daddy!” shrieked Melody, running straight into his arms. “Jesse tore up my school worksheet.”
Spotting the shredded sheet of paper lying on the deck at his son’s feet, Jake let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Jesse,” he began firmly. “Why did you tear up Melody’s worksheet?”
“Melly not play with me!” he wailed.
Hearing the commotion, Lori appeared out from the sunroom. One look at the scene in front of her was enough for her to declare, “Jesse Power, time out seat now!”
“No!”
“NOW!” yelled Lori, pointing into the house. “You better be sitting on it by the time I count to three. One…. two……”
The little boy fled indoors, sobbing loudly.
“Melody,” said Lori calmly. “We’ll fix it.”
“He’s spoiled it,” sobbed Melody quietly. “He spoils everything.”
Hugging her close, Jake suggested, “Let’s get the tape and see if we can piece it together. I’m good at jigsaw puzzles.”
“Daddy, it’s a mess,” sobbed the little girl. “Tape can’t fix it.”
“If you tape it together, we can make a new copy on my printer,” proposed Lori softly. “Had you written your letters and numbers on it?”
“Yes,” wept Melody, resting her head on Jake’s shoulder. “Now I get to do it all over again. It’s all Jesse’s fault.”
“Leave him to me,” stated Lori, anger simmering in her usually calm blue eyes. “That kid’s gone too far this time.”
Leaving Jake and their daughter to pick up the torn pieces of paper, Lori headed indoors to deal with their errant son.
“It’s not so bad,” commented Jake as he taped the last fragment of the worksheet into place.
“Daddy, I can’t turn that in to Miss Wade,” said Melody, fresh tears filling eyes.
Looking at the worksheet, Jake had to agree, “Give me five minutes. We’ll copy it like Mommy suggested and see how it looks.”
As he switched on the printer, Jake could hear Lori shouting at their son. Offering up a silent prayer, he ran the tattered sheet through the machine. The first copy came out with the tape lines still visible but, having run the copy through, Jake finally produced an acceptable looking fresh worksheet. He could still see Melody’s writing faintly on the lines and in the square boxes.
“Ok, Miss M,” he began as he stepped back out onto the deck. “Let’s get this written up and put safely in your backpack.”
With a sad smile, Melody said, “Thank you for helping me. I don’t want Miss Wade to be mad at me. She yelled at Joe today and it was scary.”
“Poor Joe. What did he do?”
“Spilled the pencils on the floor. Twice.”
“Ah,” said Jake. “Not good. You ok writing the letters out while I go and see your Mommy about dinner?”
Melody nodded.
The house was suspiciously quiet as Jake walked through the sunroom and into the kitchen. Two pots were sitting on the stove bubbling away and the timer on the
