Shattered Hearts

by Coral McCallum

  When they reached the house, Jake carried the two sleeping children down the hallway to their bedrooms. Leaving Lori to get them into bed, he went back out to the truck to fetch his guitars. On a whim, Jake left his acoustic guitar case in the sunroom before taking the rest of his gear down to the basement. Spying Melody’s half-sized guitar on its stand, he smiled, proud of how well she was progressing with her lessons.

  As he climbed back up the stairs from the basement, he remembered that his phone had buzzed earlier. When he hauled it out of his jeans pocket, he saw he had a missed call and a message from Rich’s sister. He opened the message. Her words stared up at him from the brightly lit screen, “Police called me from Gatlinburg. Rich’s car has been found. No sign of him. On my way up there. I’m worried. Will call when I know more. Maria.”

  Stumbling up the last couple of steps, Jake wandered through to the sunroom, numb to what he’d just read. Missing? Rich? It didn’t make sense.

  “You ok?” asked Lori softly from behind him.

  “Yeah. No. Fuck, I don’t know.”

  “Jake?”

  “Rich is missing,” said Jake, wincing as he said the words out loud.

  “Missing?”

  He nodded, “Maria messaged me a couple of hours ago. The police in Gatlinburg have found his car but there’s no sign of him. She’s on her way up there.”

  “Gatlinburg?” echoed Lori, looking confused. “What’s he doing in the Smoky Mountains?”

  “Ending the pain,” replied Jake, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Without another word, he walked across the room, slid open the patio doors and stepped out into the darkness.

  Goosebumps prickled on Lori’s skin as she stared after her distraught husband. Sensing he needed his own space, she let him go but her heart was screaming at her to go after him. In an effort to keep busy for a few minutes, she wandered through to the kitchen, cleared out the cool box that she’d brought back from the BBQ, wiped down the countertops then fetched two beers from the refrigerator. Her mind had rehearsed what she was going to attempt to say to Jake to console him as she had straightened up the kitchen but, as she wandered back through to the sunroom, her stomach lurched. Chills rattled through her as she recalled Rich’s words before he’d left Melody’s birthday party. Had he hugged her and held her a little longer than usual when he’d said to her to take care of Jake? Reflecting on it, he had.

  A cool breeze was blowing in off the ocean as she carefully made her way across the soft sand to where she could see Jake sitting. He had his knees pulled up and his forehead resting on them, his hair falling loosely over his face.

  “Hey, rock star,” she said softly as she laid her hand on his shoulder. “Mind if I join you?”

  He looked up and smiled, not his usual Power smile but a sad wistful smile.

  “Why are you assuming the worst here?” asked Lori as she sat beside him. “He might have gone into the mountains on a hike. Maybe he’s planned to be gone for a few days.”

  With a sigh, Jake reached out and put his arm around his wife’s slender shoulders. “I hope I’m wrong,” he said quietly. There was silence between them for a few minutes as they both gazed out at the ocean, watching the gentle waves roll in then glide out into the moonlight.

  “When we were on our way between Nashville and Raleigh, we passed a signpost for Gatlinburg. Rich told me a story about going camping there as a kid with his dad and his uncle. He told me about a view from near the top of a mountain that looked out into a valley. The only way to see the valley was to climb the mountain, follow a ledge round and only then could you see it.”

  “That still doesn’t mean he’s gone and done something stupid.”

  “Things have been getting to him. We suspect he’d been doing drugs on the last leg of the tour. On our days off, he’d stay in his bunk and drink. I tried talking to him. Tried using some of the techniques Jethro helped me with. Jethro tried talking to him too. We all did. He was in a really dark place. Still blaming himself for Gary’s death. Blaming himself for screwing things up with Linsey. I thought I’d maybe got through to him. The last week or so he seemed more like his old self but, as he told me the story about that hidden valley, he said that was where he wanted to die. Said he wanted his last view of this fucked up world to be watching the sun set from that ledge.”

  Tears were running down Lori’s cheeks as she listened to her husband’s words. When she looked up, his cheeks were wet too.

  “I’ve just called Maria and told her what I’ve just told you. She’s still a few hours away but was going to call the police officer and fill him in. Neither of us know where this valley is. Both their dad and uncle are long since dead. The only one who knew for sure is Rich. That National Park is huge. He could be anywhere, Lori.”

  Late on Monday night, the call that they had all been dreading finally came through. A heartbroken Maria called Jake just after eleven to say that Rich’s body had been found and brought down from the mountain. She became quite hysterical as she revealed that his body had been attacked by what the park rangers assumed was a bear. Trying to calm her down, Jake had asked if the bear attack had been what had killed him but Maria said no. Tearfully, she had explained that the rescue team had found signs of drug use and two empty bourbon bottles beside him. There would be an autopsy but all the signs pointed to drug-induced suicide.

  Hating the thought of her facing things alone, Jake offered to drive out to join her but Maria declined, saying Jethro was already on his way. She promised to call Jake as soon as there was any other news then tearfully ended the call.

  Her words echoed round in Jake’s head as he stood in the sunroom. Tears burning in his eyes and emotion choking his throat, Jake walked across to the open patio doors and stepped out onto the candlelit deck. Hearing him approach, Lori looked up expectantly.

  Staring into her blue eyes, unable to speak, Jake shook his head.

  “No!” gasped Lori, feeling the colour drain from her tanned cheeks,

  Jake nodded, “That was Maria. They brought his body down from the mountain a few hours ago.”

  “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry,” sobbed Lori as she stumbled to her feet.

  Wrapped in each other’s arms, they both sobbed, their grief raw and their tears flowing unbidden. Feeling the need to protect her, Jake drew Lori closer to him, allowing her to weep into his chest.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” she whispered sadly.

  “Me neither,” said Jake. “Feels like I failed him. Like we all failed him.”

  “Do the others know?”

  “No idea. I’d best call them, I guess,” answered Jake. “What do I say to them, Lori? How do I break this to them?”

  In his pocket, his phone vibrated twice. Hauling it out, he read the messages.

  “Jethro’s told them,” he said plainly. “They’re both on their way over here.”

  Nodding, Lori acknowledged, “You guys need to be together.”

  Half an hour later, Grey was the first to arrive at the beach house. Having spotted the light from the sun deck from the driveway, he came around the side of the house. When he stepped onto the deck, he reached out to embrace Jake before he uttered a sound. The two bandmates held each other in mutual grief-stricken silence. Eventually, Grey broke the bear hug and turned to Lori.

  “You ok?” she asked softly, seeing the unshed tears in his eyes.

  “I’ve no idea how I feel,” confessed the bass player. “It feels surreal. Like it’s not really happening.”

  “I know,” sighed Jake. “I’ve felt like that since they found his car last Friday. Keep thinking if we missed any clues. Could we have done more for him?”

  “Don’t,” said Lori firmly. “You can’t tear yourselves apart trying to find clues or reasons. Trust me on that. You need to be strong for each other.”

  “Lori, we all saw the signs,” began Grey.

  “And, in your own way, I’m sure all three of you reached out to him.
All of you tried to help him.”

  “Yeah,” nodded Jake. “We did but could we have done more?”

  “Probably not,” conceded Grey wearily. “How many times did we all try? How many times did he push us away? He’s been on self-destruct for a while.”

  “I guess,” sighed Jake resignedly as they all heard the gravel scrunch at the front of the house. “Sounds like Paul.”

  A moment or two later, a pale, emotional Paul appeared beside them on the sun deck. Discretely, Lori retreated indoors, leaving the three bandmates to grieve together. Quietly, she made her way down the hallway to check on the kids. Both of them were sleeping soundly, oblivious to the sadness filling the house. Closing their doors over, Lori returned to the kitchen, drew over the door to the hallway, then stood silently debating what to do. She opened the refrigerator, lifted out two six-packs of beer then headed back out to the deck.

  Just as she reached the patio doors, she met Jake coming in.

  “Great minds,” he said with a warm smile. “I was just coming indoors to fetch these. You joining us, li’l lady?”

  “I don’t want to intrude,” began Lori.

  “Don’t be crazy. We’re all in this together. You were always close to him. Rich would’ve laid down his life for you. All of us would.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Sure.”

  When the beers were done, Jake went indoors to fetch a bottle of Jack Daniels and some glasses. He poured them all a generous shot then said, “To Rich having found peace and to him having made his peace with Gary.”

  “To those we’ve loved and lost,” said Paul, his voice cracking anew as a fresh wave of grief hit him.

  “Absent friends,” added Lori softly.

  Gradually, the bourbon warmed their hearts and loosened their tongues and, by the time Lori crept off to bed sometime around 3 am, the three members of Silver Lake were reminiscing about past shows, past pranks and about the good times.

  Sun was filtering through the voile drapes when Lori opened her eyes. Beside her, the bed was empty. Jake’s side hadn’t been slept in. A glance at her cell phone told her it was after eight and she was surprised there was no sign of her early rising children. As she sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, Melody came tiptoeing in.

  “Good morning,” said Lori, smiling at her daughter’s tousled sleepy appearance.

  “Mommy, why are Daddy and the Silver Lake uncles sleeping on the deck?” asked the little girl, climbing onto the bed.

  “They had a late night,” replied Lori, trying to think how she was going to explain this to the curious, intelligent five-year-old.

  “With beer and Jack,” noted the little girl with disapproval. “I saw the beer cans and the empty bottles, Mommy.”

  “Oh, boy!” thought Lori, feeling her own head a little clouded thanks to the beer and bourbon of the night before. Delaying answering, she asked, “Where’s your brother?”

  “Watching Sponge Bob in the sunroom.”

  “Ok,” said Lori calmly. “You go and watch tv with him while I jump in the shower. Keep him indoors. I’ll make everyone breakfast when I come through.”

  “If I have to,” muttered the little girl.

  “And don’t waken your daddy or your uncles,” cautioned Lori.

  A familiar tv show theme song and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee roused Jake. He could hear the waves crashing in on the beach and took a moment or two to work out that he was on one of the sun loungers on the deck and not in bed. As he struggled to sit up, he could feel his head thumping and his stomach heave. Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight around him.

  “Fuck,” he muttered as he swung his legs round and tried to stand up. Despite the thick padding, the sun lounger was not made for sleeping on and his back was in agony. The world around him was swimming and he knew he was about to be sick. Stumbling down the path to the beach, Jake made it as far as the fence before puking his guts up into the sand. The events of the night before came clattering into focus and he dropped to his knees on the sand as a fresh wave of grief engulfed him.

  Rich was gone.

  The realisation hit him afresh; hit him like a ton of bricks crushing his heart. As tears flowed down his cheeks, he scattered sand over the pile of vomit then sat staring out towards the ocean. Slowly, he regained a little composure and staggered to his feet. Checking that his pockets were empty, Jake walked down across the cool sand into the ocean. As the waves lapped at his ankles, then his knees then his thighs, he kept walking before diving expertly into a large oncoming wave. The shock of being immersed in cold water shifted the worst of his hangover. With powerful strokes, Jake swam away from the shore, relishing the solitude of the ocean.

  Sometime later, he picked a large wave and body surfed back onto the beach. As he scrambled to his feet and shook his long, wet hair out of his eyes, he realised that Lori was sitting on a colourful beach towel halfway up the sand waiting for him.

  “Morning, rock star,” she said quietly as he came towards her.

  “Mornin’.”

  “You ok?”

  “I’ve felt better,” confessed Jake, sitting beside her. “Swim helped clear my head. You ok, li’l lady?”

  “A little muzzy. Jack Daniels is evil stuff,” replied Lori with a smile.

  “Think we’re all suffering.”

  “Yup. Paul was in the bathroom when I came out here. Grey’s staring into a mug of coffee,” she replied as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Rich would see the funny side of it, I’m sure.”

  With a small laugh, Jake said, “He’d have wakened with a lousy hangover, growled at us all then stormed off home to sleep it off.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” sighed Lori, recalling many late nights/early mornings that had ended precisely that way. “So now what?”

  “I have no idea,” replied Jake, drizzling sand through his fingers. “We wait till his body’s released. Have a memorial or a funeral. Christ, how do we start to say goodbye to him? How?”

  “Take it one day at a time,” said Lori calmly. “Be guided by Jethro and Maddy.”

  “I guess,” agreed Jake, running his sandy fingers through his damp hair anxiously. “Where are the kids?”

  “Watching tv,” answered Lori. “Stand by for a lecture about drinking beer and Jack from Miss M. She’s cross with you. It was Melody who found you all asleep on the deck.”

  “Great. A lecture from the kindergarten beer police!”

  “Something to look forward to,” giggled Lori.

  “I hope Grey’s left some coffee,” said Jake. “I’ll need it before that lecture.”

  “You need a shower too,” she observed. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Maddy and Kola will be over about lunchtime. They’re bringing sandwiches. Gives you all time together to sort some stuff out. Kola and I will take care of the kids.”

  “What would I do without you, li’l lady?” he asked, planting a soft salty kiss on her lips.

  Entertaining six children on the beach for the afternoon proved to be more of a challenge than either Kola or Lori had anticipated. Even with Becky’s help, keeping track of them all was like herding cats. Eventually, Lori suggested that they work together to build a huge sandcastle. If nothing else, it kept the little ones out of the water as they happily filled bucket after bucket with sand for the older ones to work with.

  “Have you tried to explain things to the kids?” asked Kola, watching her two small daughters work together to fill a bucket with damp sand.

  “Not yet,” replied Lori quietly. “I’ve not had a chance. We’ll try to explain it to them later. They’re too young to fully understand.”

  “I know. Becky sobbed her heart out when I told her this morning. Think it brought it all back about her mom and Gary. Kind of concerned about her.”

  “She’s been through this too often for someone so young,” acknowledged Lori, recalling the night Grey’s wife, Sandy, died all too clearly. “There’s
a wise head on those young shoulders though. She really helped Jake through things when we lost Gary. Put it all into perspective with the clarity of a child’s logic.”

  “We’ll all need to pull together to get through this,” sighed Kola sadly. “This one’s hit hard.”

  Just as the kids were bored with building sandcastles, the boys and Maddy came to join them. They all looked strained but did their best to play with the junior members of the Silver Lake family. All was quite harmonious until Jesse trampled the giant sandcastle. Recognising that he’d be in trouble, he scampered off down the beach at full pelt. Hot and tired after an afternoon in the sun, Grey and Kola’s girls began to cry, saying Jesse was mean.

  “Time to head home,” declared Grey, scooping up a wailing Anna. “Becky. Linzi. Time to go.”

  As the bass player and his girls got ready to leave, Jake came back up the beach with a wriggling, screaming Jesse in his arms. “Want to take this one with you?”

  “No, thanks,” said Grey swiftly. “That one is all yours, Mr Power.”

  Calmly, Lori took her son from Jake, scolding him firmly for destroying the castle and running off.

  “Jake,” said Becky quietly, appearing beside him.

  “Hey, princess, you ok?” he said with a sad smile, hugging her close.

  “Been better,” revealed the teenager awkwardly as she snuggled in close to him. “Guess there’s another one at the bar with my mom and Gary now.”

  “And my mom better set another place for dinner,” added Jake, touched that Becky was recalling their conversation from shortly after Gary’s death.

  “Don’t die, Uncle Jake,” begged Becky tearfully. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

  Holding her tight, Jake kissed the top of her head and promised, “I don’t intend to. I’m going to live to be a hundred and be a cranky old man on his rocker on the porch.”

  Smiling through her tears, Becky said, “My dad’s a cranky old man now.”

  “Yeah, he is,” agreed Jake with a grin. “But don’t tell him I said that.”