“How’d it go talking to Lori?” he asked quietly.
“So so,” replied Jake. “She wants time and a bit of space but at least she let me see the kids before I drive up to New York.”
“She’ll come round,” prophesised Grey wisely. “She loves you too much not to.”
“I hope you’re right,” sighed Jake sadly. “This little princess seems calmer.”
“You are a magician with babies,” laughed Grey, genuinely amazed at how quickly the baby had settled. “She’s been screaming for forty-five minutes solid.”
“Just a natural talent,” replied Jake with a wink. “Think she’s asleep.”
“No,” countered Grey, noticing the two brown eyes watching him over Jake’s shoulder. “She’s wide awake.”
“Well, at least she’s settled,” he conceded. “I’d better grab my ice cream and scoot before Lori arrives.”
“Maybe you should take it with you,” suggested Grey. “She messaged to say she’s on her way.”
“Shit,” muttered Jake. “Guess I need to say my goodbyes to my little people.”
Feeling Jake’s pain, Grey watched his friend head back into the living room.
Rain was falling as he exited the Holland Tunnel and followed the signs for Downtown. The weather matched his mood. Leaving the kids behind had been tough; leaving Lori behind had been tougher. With a heavy heart, Jake negotiated the Manhattan rush-hour, cursing it under his breath. No matter how often he drove into the city, he still hated the mania of the traffic. On the dashboard, the sat nav directed him towards Garrett’s gothic palace. He had programmed the directions to the building’s parking garage before he’d left JJL and was keeping half an eye on the fluorescent pink line and half an eye on the road in front of him as he negotiated the traffic.
Eventually, many curses later, he pulled into the garage and parked in the visitor’s bay that Garrett had indicated he could use. His friend’s beat-up old sedan was parked next to him. Seeing it made him smile. The car had to be twenty years old at least but Garrett loved it and couldn’t be persuaded to trade it for a more modern model.
Grabbing his book bag and his holdall, Jake locked the truck and headed off to the music store. The parking garage was round the side of the block where the store was located and, as he rounded the corner, an icy wind, along with the driving rain, whipped at his long hair.
Pushing the shop door open roughly, the bell tinkled loudly as Jake stumbled in out of the rain.
“Making an entrance I see, Mr Power,” called a familiar voice as Jake pushed his wet tangled hair out of his eyes.
“Hi, Garrett,” he replied. “Weather’s wild out there. Sorry, didn’t mean to wreck the place.”
“No harm done,” said Garrett, coming over to greet him. “Glad you made it in one piece.” Then, noting a lack of guitar cases, commented, “No guitars?”
“In the truck,” revealed Jake. “I’ll grab them later.”
There were a handful of customers in the store and suddenly Jake was aware that they were watching and listening.
“Put your bag behind the counter,” suggested Garrett with a grin. “You can help out down here till we close up.”
“Sure,” agreed Jake, more than happy to help his host.
“And, yes, you can play with my toys,” teased Garett with a wink towards two young star-struck customers.
It had been almost a year since Jake had visited the store and he was secretly keen to check out what treasures Garrett may have accumulated in that time. The ground floor of the store was split into three distinct areas. A recessed area to the rear housed the new acoustic instruments. The bulk of the store was taken up with various ranges of new electric guitars but Jake’s favourite section was the pre-owned collector’s editions section.
With his bags safely stowed behind the cash desk, Jake wandered across the shop to explore the pre-owned section. He wasn’t surprised when the two young customers followed him. As he browsed the racks, they hovered nervously at a discrete distance, watching his every move. A black Gibson SG caught his eye and, without hesitation, he lifted it down from the rack. As always, a small practice amp and lead sat nearby. Plugging it in, Jake found a pick in his pocket and began to play, taking care not to play anything from the newly recorded Silver Lake album.
The two young musicians edged closer.
“Neat,” said one of them, nodding in obvious awe of Jake’s ability.
“Thank you,” replied Jake, flashing him a Power smile.
“You’re really him, aren’t you? The old guy wasn’t messing with us. You’re Jake Power. The dude from Silver Lake,” gushed the other one.
Suppressing a laugh, Jake said, “I was the last time I checked.”
“Awesome!”
Grinning, Jake kept playing.
“Can we get a photo or an autograph?” asked the quieter of the two shyly.
“Sure,” agreed Jake. “Do you guys play?”
“Yeah. We play in a band. We’ve a gig down the street Thursday night.”
Passing the SG to the younger musician, Jake said simply, “Your turn.”
“Me? Me play for you?”
“Please,” encouraged Jake warmly. “Tell me what you think of this lady.”
Nervously, the young guitarist began to play. Much to Jake’s surprise, the youth was a more skilful musician than he’d anticipated. Sounds of ACDC echoed round as the boy played Thunderstruck.
“Nice job,” complimented Jake when he stopped playing. “Not so tense though. Loosen that wrist up. Try it again.”
“And you can’t take the teacher out of the rock star,” commented Garrett as he came over to listen.
“Go on,” encouraged Jake warmly. “From the top.”
Off to one side, the young guitarist’s bandmate was filming the scene on his phone.
Having taken a deep breath, the youngster played the song again. Nodding his approval, Jake said, “Better. Still too tense. Here, let
