35. Daphne
35
DAPHNE
I t’s the week before the concert, a Tuesday, when someone knocks on my door. I open it to find Luke on my doorstep. He’s nervous, which isn’t what I expected. I never even imagined that Luke could be less than confident, but his agitation is obvious.
“Forget your key?”
“No, I just wanted to make sure we talked.”
“Are you coming in?”
“Not yet.”
He frowns and looks away. I recall that he hasn’t performed for over a year and the build-up to this concert is huge. Is he worried about the show?
“Something wrong?”
“Maybe something’s right,” he says in an undertone, then impales me with a glance. He’s conjured a slip of paper from somewhere—no, it’s a ticket. “I was hoping you might be planning to attend the tribute.”
“You know I am. Even though it sold out in minutes, Cameron got us all tickets together.”
He presents the ticket. “I was hoping that you’d sit here.”
“But I have a ticket.”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t have this one.”
I tilt my head to read the seat assignment. Row A. “I have to think that’s in the front row.”
“Front and center.”
“I’ll see you wherever I am. The Odeon isn’t that big.”
“But I won’t be able to see you . Not with the lights.” This is important to him, though I’m not sure why. I know I’m missing something.
“Why…”
I don’t get to finish the question. He moves his thumb, revealing that there’s a second ticket behind the first one. “Abbie’s coming,” he says and I can’t hide my excitement. “I thought you two could sit front and center and cheer me on.”
“Abbie! That’s fabulous!” I throw myself at him and he swings me around, smiling at my enthusiasm. There’s still some part of the puzzle I’ve missed, but I guess that he’s not going to tell me. There’s a serious glint in his eyes which is worrisome. It feeds all my anxieties about the future, even though I’ve told myself a million times to be cool, that it was worth the ride however things shake out. “But how did you convince her?”
“I said she’d be sitting with you. I worked it out so she wouldn’t have to go to the house, so she agreed. She’s going to stay with Mackenzie.”
“She is not. She’s staying here.”
“Fight it out with Mackenzie,” he says amiably.
I kiss him, amazed by how much magic one man can make when he sets his mind to it. “But we don’t have to sit in the front row. Save those seats for your super-fans.”
“Daph! I’m crushed that you don’t count yourself in that company.” He’s teasing so I swat him then I realize the potential problem with Abbie in my spare bedroom.
“You don’t mind if she’s here when you’re here?”
Luke looks discomfited and I brace myself for something I suspect I won’t like. “I actually won’t be here.” Oh, I don’t like that one bit. “I’ll be staying on the bus. We always do that before a performance, so everyone knows the team is in place.”
“Starting when?”
“Starting now.” He offers my house key and when I don’t take it, he reaches past me to put it on the table by the door.
I feel a little bit sick.
Maybe this is the beginning of the end.
“Be there?” he asks, his voice husky. There’s a plea in his eyes, as if he’s afraid I’ll kick up a fuss. I won’t do that to him, not now, not when he’s preparing for Taylor’s tribute.
I take the tickets. “Of course. Thank you for persuading Abbie to come.”
His eyes light and he catches me up to give me the sweetest kiss in the world. “Thank you,” he murmurs against my mouth, his gaze searching mine, then those lashes sweep down and he angles his mouth across mine, giving me the kiss I want with all my heart and soul.
I’m ready to ask him to come in, but he steps back when he breaks the kiss and gives me a thin smile. He looks tired, I realize, and a bit stressed. “One last rehearsal and sound check. No rest for the wicked and all that. Oh, and I’ll need my guitar.”
Just like that, hope crashes and burns. I stand and watch him step into my house, pick up his guitar and place it lovingly in the case. A heartbeat later, way too soon, he’s back at my side.
Looking relieved that something has been done.
The crack of my heart should be audible but it’s not.
He gives me a crooked smile. “Sleep well, Daph.” He squeezes my hand and then he’s gone, leaping off my porch and striding into the darkness.
I wonder how many fans who are camped out in town recognize him when he marches by.
I know that most of them yearn for him just the way I do.
I close the door and lean back against it, telling myself not to cry, then head to bed alone.
Taylor’s grandparents arrive the next day, driving a red VW bus. I know it’s a reproduction because Luke told me, and maybe there’s a clue in how new it looks. As arranged, they park in my backyard. I like them immediately and give them the key Luke had. Since I’m the only person in Empire who locks their doors, they’ll need it to use the bathroom and kitchen, which I’ve invited them to do.
And then there’s Abbie.
She gets a ride with Merrie, who has gone into Toronto for supplies. Mackenzie, Willow and I are in the driveway when Merrie’s Jeep comes into view, and there’s a lot of noise when we welcome Abbie back. She’s cut her hair short since I last saw her and it looks great. We hug as if we’ll never be parted again, and the girls’ night proves to be epic. We stay up all night talking, both of us avoiding the subject of Luke so fastidiously that I know she knows something.
I don’t ask.
The air is sizzling with anticipation when we get to the Odeon on the night of the concert. There are spotlights playing across the sky and Queen Street is crowded with visitors. The taco truck has moved down from its usual spot to more prime real estate on this side of Big Red, and Merrie’s bistro has a line outside the door. It’s been that way for days, and as much as I’m enjoying it, I’m looking forward to getting my town back.
The Maple Leaf Motel has been booked out all week and the campgrounds are full. Every short-term rental in town is booked and more people are staying in Havelock or Port Cavendish. There are food trucks parked bumper-to-bumper tonight, most of which have come in from other towns, and a general atmosphere of festivity.
The line slowly snakes its way into the theatre and we find our seats. I gave my other ticket back to Cameron and evidently she convinced some guy to come along with her. I see Willow and Mackenzie, as well as a lot of other friends. Abbie is vibrating with excitement, her hand clasped in mine so we don’t lose track of each other. Cameras are flashing, and selfies are being taken by the thousands. It’s a small venue, but every seat is sold. They probably could have sold them twice over.
There are light-up bracelets for sale in the lobby, all of them in shades of blue and branded Taylor’s Tribute with the year. There are gold lights instead of cigarette lighters for fans to wave in the darkness. There are T-shirts and bags and patches, CD’s of the band’s recordings, posters and every kind of memorabilia you can imagine. The line moves slowly, giving lots of time for impulse buys, and I’m amazed by the amount of money changing hands.
Our seats are in the front row, but there’s an eight-foot gap between the rail in front of us and the lip of the stage. Roadies dressed in black wearing headsets have taken up position along the edge of the stage at regular intervals. They’re all big buff guys who look like they can take down anyone or anything. I wave to Wookie who gives me a thumbs-up. The stage is hidden behind red velvet drapes that are reproductions of the original and just gorgeous.
The house is full and noisy when the lights start to dim slowly. There are gasps and whispers, and the audience falls slowly silent as darkness descends. I have goosebumps when there’s a drumroll, one that sends a vibration from the floor right through my body.
The drapes slide open soundlessly, as the white smoke from dry ice tumbles across the revealed stage. There’s a huge screen hanging at the back, one that becomes illuminated with a labyrinth in glowing white. ‘Taylor’s Tribute’ appears above it and the audience screams approval. There’s a clash of cymbals, a cascade on the drums, and a flash on stage.
I hear Luke before I see him, his voice low and rich on all sides, the song as familiar as my name. He’s silhouetted with his electric guitar against the billowing white smoke and the audience goes wild as he begins to sing one of the band’s biggest hits. He raises one hand when he reaches the chorus and everyone in the place sings along with him, a joyous roar that makes the walls vibrate.
Abbie grins at me in delight.
Taylor’s brother has stepped right into his big brother’s role, the rest of the band play as if they never stopped, and the entire audience is on their feet—me included—screaming and singing along before the end of the first song. I can see the sweat fly from Luke as he gets into his rhythm and my heart is thundering at the sight of him. He owns the stage, he holds the audience in the palm of his hand, his voice fills all the hollows for miles around, and he revels in it.
He's really good at this.
When that song ends on a triumphant note, he shouts to the crowd. “Welcome, all of you!” he calls and they roar in reply. “I’m Luke Jones and we are Mad, Bad & Dangerous 2 Know!” There is screaming in response to this, though it’s hardly news. “Thank you for joining us tonight for this tribute to Taylor Tate, a great friend taken from us too soon.”
There’s a bellow of agreement to that, even as Luke puts a hand over his heart. He waits for them to fall quiet again. “I miss Taylor so much, and I know that a lot of you do, too. Thank you for your messages over the past fifteen months. It means a lot to all of us that so many of you have made the trip to join us tonight for this special concert. I know there are people here from all across Canada, from the States, from England and Japan.” Someone bellows in the back and Luke puts a finger to the earpiece of his headset. “Australia? Really?” There’s a cheer of assent. “Our fans are the best. No contest.” This is greeted with approval and cheers.
“Let’s hear it for Brent Fallon –” The bass player steps forward to take a bow. “And Zach Sutherland.” The drummer plays a riff on the drums, then stands up to take a bow. “And joining us tonight for the first time, Jason Tate, Taylor’s younger brother, who is stepping into some big shoes. We’re honoured to have him play with us for this special concert.” Jason plays a few bars, grins and bows. The cheering is enough to pierce my eardrums, and Abbie is jumping up and down beside me. “This is the first time I’ve been on stage without Taylor,” Luke says, his voice a little husky. “So, I need you all to sing along with me tonight. All right?”
They shout approval.
“All right. Then let’s start with one you have to know.”
Luke plays a familiar sequence and Jason picks it up. The crowd starts to stamp in time. It’s one of the band’s signature pieces, another big hit, and the house explodes in song as everyone sings along with Luke. There’s an energy in a live performance, a crackle of electricity that is never really captured on film or in a recording. I had no idea it could be this strong.
I also didn’t realize how it could be managed so well. Luke builds them up and lets them down slowly, feeding off the audience’s enthusiasm and working steadily toward a crescendo. The songs are arranged in a sequence that gets louder and faster, then slows again. There’s dry ice and the lights flash and flicker, the band rolling through their catalogue with enviable ease. I realize why he’s spent so much time practicing in the past few weeks. The show is slick and they never miss a note.
It’s a tribute to Taylor and they wanted to get it perfect.
Luke’s voice is getting a bit rough when the tempo slows and the lights come down. He takes off his guitar, handing it off to a roadie, and slings the strap of an acoustic guitar across his shoulders. The crew move around him, placing a stool, positioning a microphone for the guitar, bringing a second stool for Jason, who also has an acoustic guitar. Luke surveys the crowd as he drains a bottle of water. Can he see them? I can’t imagine that he can with so many lights on him, but it feels like he’s looking at each and every one of them.
“We all know how this show usually ends,” he says, plucking a sequence of notes on his guitar. “This is a song written by Taylor. It’s the most successful song he ever wrote and maybe even the best one.” There are cheers of approval. “It’s a song about love, and I’ve always thought of it as being about romantic love.”
He shakes his head, watching as he plays a few more bars of the song. “But Taylor hadn’t yet met the person who might be his partner. Maybe he was dreaming of her when he composed this song. Maybe he was just thinking about love, in all its variations. As we rehearsed for tonight, I realized this song isn’t necessarily about a partner. It could be interpreted as being about a parent, or a child.”
He nods to Jacob who is also strumming. “A sibling.” His voice drops. “A friend. So, tonight, I’m going to sing it for Taylor, for the friend and brother and son that he was, for his kindness and his wisdom, and for all the love he brought into this world in his time here. This live version will be released as a single—it’ll drop tomorrow at noon, provided I don’t screw it up.” There is a ripple of laughter. He strums again and his voice is thick when he continues. “I haven’t gotten through it yet in rehearsal, but we can do part of it together.”
He bends over his guitar to play the opening sequence, then looks up and smiles. “There,” he murmurs. “You lot in the back corner have it right.”
I glance back to see a sea of lights in the highest seats, then others are illuminated throughout the crowd. The pinpricks of gold pierce the darkness like an ocean of stars, looking brighter as the lights dim. Abbie’s hand slides into mine. When I turn back to the stage with a lump in my throat, the back screen is illuminated. Luke and Jason are sitting together, silhouetted as they play together. The labyrinth that had been on the screen at the beginning appears again, then a slideshow launches with images of Taylor. A spotlight picks out Luke as he starts to sing.
I’ve always thought it was a beautiful song, but it’s been a while since I listened closely to the lyrics, or maybe since I really heard them. On this night, they’re all new with Luke’s suggestion, and I hold up my light in the darkness, mesmerized by the slideshow of Taylor’s life. He’s often laughing, frequently playing his guitar. He and Luke are together a lot, often visibly teasing each other, standing back-to-back on stage as they perform, or dead asleep in adjacent bunks. There are pictures of the band in a recording studio, looking frazzled as they work out a song, triumphant as they get it right. I have a sense of Taylor as a benign and nurturing giant, one who brought out the best in all of them, maybe even the adhesive that held the band together.
Luke lingers over the words, imbuing them with a power and conviction I’ve never heard before. It was always a great song but on this night, Luke makes it a brilliant testament to the power of love. The music soars around us, the band giving their best, making Taylor’s song into a classic. I know this will be streaming everywhere within moments.
It’s so beautiful.
Luke’s voice breaks once, on the final chorus, and the audience raises their voices as one to sing the finale with him. I glance back to see the lights swaying in time throughout the crowd. I can see that Jason is crying, biting his lip even as he plays the final chords. I know that his grandparents have a place in the wings to watch and can only imagine that they’re loving this. The song ends on an aching triumphant note, one that Luke holds for half of forever. The screen displays Taylor’s name and his dates, then changes to a photo of him smiling.
The applause erupts, coming from every corner, growing to an impossible volume. Luke swings his guitar around to his back, then goes to Jason. The two of them hug, then the other band members come to join in until the four of them turn to consider the crowd.
“You’re all amazing,” Luke says, his voice husky again. “Thank you so much.” They clap and stamp and shout for another few minutes as he visibly composes himself, then he takes off his guitar. A roadie brings him a different one and I have to think it looks a lot like the one that has had pride of place in my living room until this week. “But we can’t entirely break with tradition, can we?”
A mauve bra is flung onto the stage from out of the darkness and Luke smiles at the sight of it. “It’s Taylor’s tribute,” he reminds the crowd and they laugh with him. He sits back on his stool, playing a little melody as he talks. “The thing about Taylor is that he was all about following your heart, taking a chance on what you believe. Taking a risk instead of playing it safe. He used to say ‘jump and the net will appear’ which is easier advice to give than to take. But inspired by him and his conviction that love would always conquer all obstacles, I’m going to take a chance tonight. Instead of singing to someone I don’t know, I’m going to sing to someone I love.”
Abbie clutches my hand and holds it tightly. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
Luke continues. “I think that follows Taylor’s legacy. And what I’m going to sing to her is the first song I’ve written in almost a year and a half. Taylor taught me a lot about composition, when we wrote songs together and when I learned to play his songs, so this song, in a way, is another tribute to him. I could never have written this love song without his mentorship. And I wouldn’t have been in the right place to fall in love, without him giving me a good hard nudge.”
There is a chuckle at that.
“We haven’t charted a path forward for the band yet, but this will be our new single. It might be our last single, but we’ll see. Either way, the studio version drops at midnight. Again, if I get it right, there will be an alternate live version available soon.”
He exhales, sounding nervous again. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever brought this guitar on stage. It’s my favorite guitar, the one I like to use when I compose, the one I reach for at home. I composed this song on it, so I couldn’t play it on any other guitar.” He looks up. “This is the first time I’ve sung this new song before an audience, and the first time we’ve ever performed it as a band. So, be merciful.” They laugh at that, and my heart might explode.
“Like I said, this one is for someone special.” Luke comes to the lip of the stage and my heart stops cold when he looks right at me. He smiles, a crooked smile that doesn’t hide his uncertainty, a smile that tears me apart. “Hey, Daph,” he says softly. “I’ll sing to you whether you prefer to stay there or come up here. Either way, this one’s for you.”
He’s made a similar invitation a thousand times to a thousand other women, but this time, he’s saying it to me.
Only to me.
And whether or not the audience sees who I am is entirely my choice. That’s Luke, protecting those he cherishes, letting me decide.
He wrote a song for me. That’s why he wanted us to sit up front. That’s why he wanted to be able to see me, because this was his plan.
He’s not leaving. He’s staying .
Just like he told me weeks ago. He loves me and he’s staying with me.
And that means I don’t want to hide in the crowd. I want to be right there with him. I want to have this fantasy moment and let the whole world see. That he’s uncertain of me at all means I need to fix it and show him that I love him with all my heart.
Words aren’t enough.
I take a step and Wookie is instantly there, lifting me bodily over the barrier and up onto the stage. Luke gives me his hand and pulls me up beside him, his gaze searching mine. I smile at him and squeeze his hand tightly, and relief lights his eyes.
“That’s why Row A,” I mouth and he nods with a grin. I realize that I’ve been his for the taking, ever since he walked into my office and put his helmet on my desk. I didn’t know half of how wonderful he is, and it seems like I just fall deeper in love with him every passing day.
Luke leads me further onto the stage, urging me toward the stool that Jason abandoned. I’m oblivious to everything but the glow in his eyes, the curve of his smile. Then he drops to one knee before me, strums the opening notes, and begins to sing.
The song is gorgeous. His voice is so rich and deep. The words are sweet and poignant and powerful. He sings about finding what you’re seeking in the most unlikely spot, in the place you left behind, in finding the treasure back where you started your quest. There’s wonder in his lyrics, a surprise that all the stories about love are true, and that they’ve come true for him.
I expected to be self-conscious in front of the audience—which isn’t even that big, compared to others he’s entertained—but in a curious way, we could be alone, not standing in front of several thousand people. In my world, there is only his voice, only the fire in his eyes, only this man who taught me to believe my impulse and follow my heart. There are only his words, a declaration of love and devotion that is humbling in its sincerity, only the tears rising in my eyes. The chorus is repeated twice and when Luke begins to sing it a third time, he raises a hand and they all sing along. Even I mouth the words, and he beams up at me, ending with a final fervid ‘I love you.’
When he’s done, he bows his head and kisses my palm, folding my fingers over the point of contact just the way he’s done before. As the applause begins to build, everything is simple. I can’t believe I’ve held out against trusting in something so true and so right.
I could have lost him.
I could have lost this, and I can’t bear the thought.
As the house erupts in enthusiastic applause, Luke reaches behind his own back. I realize he’s turning off the microphone pack. He pushes the headset aside and stands in one fluid move, stepping closer, his gaze boring into mine. “Be with me, Daph? We can marry or not, it’s up to you. I just want to be together.”
“Always and forever,” I manage to say, repeating the words from the chorus of his new song.
I see the pleasure in his smile and he catches me close, then kisses me with all the passion I’ve learned to expect from him. And I kiss him back, relieved and jubilant and sure, more sure than I’ve ever been of anything in my entire life. When we finally break that kiss, he reaches back to the microphone again and pulls the headset back into place.
“She said yes,” he tells the audience and they roar approval. I hear Abbie screaming and I glance toward her, seeing her jubilation. Did she know in advance? I have a feeling these two have schemed against me and I don’t care.
“Of course, she did, dude,” Jason says and everyone laughs. Luke guides me to the wings where I can watch without being watched. A roadie the size of a refrigerator escorts Abbie to my side, then Taylor’s grandparents close ranks behind us.
Luke sings a final finale of Taylor’s ballad, the entire band singing the last chorus a capella for that one. From my vantage point, I can see the lights waving back and forth in time, a sea of golden stars, and my throat is tight when Luke thanks everyone and the curtain comes down.
I get another kiss then, a slow potent one. Meanwhile, the audience is stamping hard enough to make the floors shake. Luke nods to his bandmates and I see that they’ve already planned an encore. The curtain goes up for a high-octane set that launches with a cover version of Devil Inside . The audience is ecstatic and are dancing in the aisles. It’s a long set, a good twenty minutes of pure adrenalin.
At the end, the four band members line up across the front of the stage for their final bows, then acknowledge the roadies, then the sound team at the back of the house. They blow kisses to the audience, then the curtain comes down again.
Luke tugs off the headset and a roadie unclips the pack on the back of his belt. He strides toward me, an intent in his eyes that I know very well. I smile before he catches me close for another smouldering kiss.
“Save it for later,” Abbie complains and Luke grins.
He touches the tip of his nose to mine. “Let the guys take you home, Daph. It’s safer.”
“Aren’t you coming home?”
“Later.” He brushes his lips across mine. “Leave the back door open?”
“I’ll wait up for you,” I promise and the heat in his eyes makes a promise I know he’ll keep.
There are two roadies closing in on us, both with headsets. Abbie and I are bustled toward the back door, and I realize Taylor’s grandparents have vanished. They’re already inside the black van with tinted windows and Abbie and I find ourselves joining them in the blink of an eye. The crowds are streaming out of the theatre, most of them singing one of the last two songs, clinging to each other and their sparkly lights. I see that Merrie’s place is open late and already has a growing line.
“You knew,” I accuse Abbie and she laughs.
“What else do you think could tempt me back? When Luke said he was in love, I had to see it for myself.”
“What a lovely boy,” Taylor’s grandmother says, wiping away a tear. “We’re so happy for you both, dear.”
“Fabulous show,” his grandfather said, holding tightly to her hand. “I’ll never forget it.”
“A night to remember,” Abbie says and she’s absolutely right.
What’s even better is that it’s the start of our future together.
I can’t wait.