Page 34 of Tribute Act

“Have you ever been in a band?”

“A few. Every one of them ended badly. I think I’m more of a . . . solo artist, if you know what I mean?” He smiled at me. “A lone wolf.”

“All wolves are pack animals at heart,” I said. “Maybe you just never found the right . . . bandmates?”

His smile tightened. “Are we still talking about bands?”

I flushed. There was my fixer nature coming out again. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay.” Then, after a beat, “But you should know—I really am a lone wolf, Nathan.”

Mack played at the café again on the Monday and Wednesday of the next week. On Monday, we got a few extra customers, mostly people who’d been in the previous week and had wanted to come again. By the Wednesday though, word had got round and we were practically full.

Mum brought Rosie with her to listen on Wednesday. They squeezed themselves in at my tiny table near the counter, forcing me to put away my laptop.

“Why didn’t you tell us he was doing this?” Mum said as Mack tuned up in his usual, patient, all-the-time-in-the-world way.

I said, honestly, “He didn’t want me to.”

“Why not?”

I gave her a look.

“What?”

“You kind of make a fuss about things and, in case you’ve not noticed, he’s not really into being fussed over.”

She gasped. “I do not!”

I glanced at Rosie for support, but she clearly wasn’t listening. Her gaze was fixed on Mack and there was a distinct gleam of hero-worship in her eyes that, I had to admit, I envied. Well, I was used to being the only big-brother show in town.

I turned back to Mum. “So, where’s Derek?”

“Oh, working,” she said vaguely, and I definitely didn’t imagine the flush of scarlet that stained her cheeks. Terrible liar, my mother.

“Does he know Mack’s playing here?”

She eyed me, then glanced at Rosie, who still wasn’t paying us the slightest bit of attention, before adding under her breath. “He thinks Dylan won’t want him here. I told him not to be so silly, but, well . . .” She trailed off, as though unsure how to complete the thought, and no wonder, because yes, there was some basis for Derek’s fears.

Mack did go out of his way to avoid Derek. I suspected his actions stemmed from his deep-rooted conviction that Derek didn’t care about him. And really who could blame him? With how Derek was behaving, it didn’t look like that was a view Mack was going to be changing anytime soon. Whatever Derek’s reasons for staying away, Mack would probably interpret them as lack of interest.

My depressing thoughts were interrupted when Mack began to play. He started with an Ed Sheeran song, which most of the crowd clearly knew well, immediately drawing them in. I glanced at Mum, unaccountably pleased by her obvious surprise at Mack’s skill. As for Rosie, she was gazing at Mack worshipfully. She was a complete music fiend and had taken up guitar the year before she fell ill, though her lessons had fallen by the wayside a few months ago.

When Mack finished that first song, Rosie turned to me and said breathlessly, “He’s way better than Dad. I think he might be better than my teacher!”

Mum gave a startled laugh. “Don’t tell Dad that!”

Rosie giggled, but I didn’t think Mum was kidding. Derek was pretty precious about his musician status. I had to wonder what he’d make of Mack’s playing. Mack was good, no doubt. Versatile too. I’d heard Derek play quite a bit, but only rock and pop stuff. Mack could play anything: rock, country, folk, even classical. There was a natural ease to his playing, even in how he held the instrument, as if the guitar were an extension of his own body. As though he didn’t need to think about the notes at all.

When Mack finished his set, Katie started closing down at the counter while Mum and I began clearing tables and gently encouraging the customers out the door. Rosie joined Mack as he packed his stuff up, chattering away to him as he worked. Mack didn’t seem to be saying much, but he smiled at her, and put in the odd comment. She seemed to bloom under his quiet attention, talkative in a way she hadn’t been for a long time. It warmed me to see her acting like her old self again, but it was kind of painful too, to see how easily Mack could draw her out of herself when for the last few months, I’d barely been able to get a word out of her.

Finally, when the last customer had gone, and Katie had left, Mum and I joined Rosie and Mack.

“Dylan love, that was so good,” Mum said, laying her hand on his arm. She laughed. “I suppose that’s not so surprising—like father, like son.”

Mack smiled stiffly at her. “Actually, my mum was a musician too. She was the one who taught me guitar.”

Mum looked mortified. “Oh, right. I didn’t think of that. Of course, that was how she and Derek met, wasn’t it?”