The Last Song (23 page)

“Good ones are,” he said.

“Can you afford that?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” He paused. “Can I ask you something? What did you do that made Blaze so mad? You
never told me.”

Had her mom asked, she probably wouldn’t have answered. Nor would she have answered her dad even a couple of days earlier.
Now, she couldn’t see any reason not to. “She has this weird, scary boyfriend, and she thinks I was trying to steal him away
from her. Or something like that.”

“What do you mean by weird and scary?”

She paused. At the water’s edge, the first of the families were arriving, loaded with towels and beach toys. “I saw him last
night,” she said in a low voice. She pointed down the beach. “He was standing over there while I was talking to Will.”

Her dad didn’t try to hide his concern. “But he didn’t come any closer.”

She shook her head. “No. But there’s something… off about him. Marcus…”

“Maybe you should keep your distance from those two. Blaze and Marcus, I mean.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to talk to either one of them again.”

“Do you want me to call Pete? I know you haven’t had a good experience with him…”

Ronnie shook her head. “Not yet. And believe it or not, I’m not mad at Pete at all. He was just doing his job, and actually,
he was pretty understanding about the whole thing. I think he felt sorry for me.”

“He told me he believes you. Which is why he talked to the owner.”

She smiled, thinking how nice it was to talk to her dad like this. For an instant, she wondered how different her life would
have been had he never moved away. She hesitated, scooping up a handful of sand and letting it sift through her fingers.

“Why did you leave us, Dad?” she asked. “I’m old enough for the truth, okay?”

Her dad stretched his legs out, obviously buying time. He seemed to be wrestling with something, trying to figure out how
much to tell her and where to begin, before he started with the obvious. “After I stopped teaching at Juilliard, I did every
show that I could. It was my dream, you know? Be a famous concert pianist? Anyway… I guess I should have thought more about
the reality of the situation before I made the decision. But I didn’t. I didn’t realize how hard it was going to be on your
mom.” He fixed her with a serious gaze. “In the end, we just sort of… drifted apart.”

She watched her dad as he answered, trying to read between the lines.

“There was someone else, wasn’t there,” she said. Her voice held no inflection.

Her dad didn’t answer, and his gaze fell away. Ronnie felt something plummet inside her.

When he finally answered, he sounded tired. “I know I should have tried harder to save the marriage, and I’m sorry about that.
More sorry than you’ll ever know. But I want you to know something, okay? I never once stopped believing in your mom, I never
once stopped believing in the endurance of our love. Even though it didn’t work out in the end the way you or I wanted it
to, I see you and Jonah and I think how lucky I am to have you as children. In a lifetime of mistakes, you two are the greatest
things that have ever happened to me.”

When he finished, she scooped up another handful of sand and let it trickle through her fingers, feeling tired again. “What
am I going to do?”

“You mean about today?”

“I mean about everything.”

She felt him lay a gentle hand on her back. “I think maybe your first step should be to go talk to him.”

“Who?”

“Will,” he said. “Do you remember when you walked past the house yesterday? When I was standing on the porch? I was watching
you, thinking how natural the two of you seemed together.”

“You don’t even know him,” Ronnie said, her voice a mixture of wonder and surprise.

“No,” he said. He smiled, his expression tender. “But I know you. And you were happy yesterday.”

“What if he won’t talk to me?” she fretted.

“He will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was watching, and he was happy, too.”

*     *     *

Standing outside the lobby of Blakelee Brakes, she could only think,
I don’t want to do this.
She didn’t want to face him, except she also sort of wanted to and knew she had no other choice. She knew she hadn’t been
fair to him, and at the very least, he deserved to know what Ashley had said to her. He’d waited outside her house for hours,
right?

Besides, she had to admit her father was right. She’d had a lot of fun with Will, or at least as much fun as she could have
in a place like this. And there was something about him that set him apart from any of the guys she’d known. Not so much that
he played volleyball and had the body of an athlete, or even that he was smarter than he let on. He wasn’t afraid of her.
Too many guys simply rolled over these days, thinking that being nice was all that mattered. And it did matter, but not if
the guy equated being nice with being a doormat. She liked the fact that he’d taken her fishing, even though she hadn’t been
enthusiastic about it. It was his way of telling her,
This is who I am, and this is what I enjoy, and of all the people I know right now, I want to enjoy this experience with you.
Too often, when a guy asked her out, he picked her up without the slightest idea of what to do or where to go, eventually
forcing her to come up with the plan. There was something so wishy-washy and clueless about that. Will was anything but wishy-washy,
and she couldn’t help liking him for that.

Which meant, of course, that she had to fix things. Steeling herself in case he was still angry, she entered the lobby. In
the bay, Will and Scott were working beneath a lifted car. Scott said something to Will, who turned and saw her, but he didn’t
smile. Instead, he wiped his hands on a rag and started toward her.

He stopped a few feet away. Up close, his expression was unreadable. “What do you want?”

Not exactly the opening she’d hoped for, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected, either.

“You were right,” she said. “Yesterday, I left the game because Ashley said that I was just your latest project. She also
implied that I wasn’t the first, that our day together—all the things we did and places you took me—were tricks you use with
every new girl.”

Will continued to stare at her. “She lied.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you leave me sitting outside for hours? And why didn’t you say anything yesterday?”

She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, feeling shame well up in her chest but trying not to let it show. “I was angry
and upset. And I was going to tell you, but you left before I had the chance.”

“You’re saying it was my fault?”

“No, not at all. There’s a lot of stuff that was going on that doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s been… difficult
for the past few days.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair. It felt so hot in the garage.

Will took a moment to absorb what she’d said. “Why would you believe her in the first place? You don’t even know her.”

She closed her eyes. Why? she wondered.
Because I’m an idiot.
Because I should have trusted my instincts about her.
But she didn’t say those things. She simply shook her head. “I don’t know.”

When she didn’t seem willing to add anything else, he tucked his thumbs into his pockets. “Is that all you came to say? Because
I’ve got to get back to work.”

“I also wanted to apologize,” she said, her voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you did,” Will shot back. “You were completely irrational. Anything else?”

“And I also wanted you to know that I had a really good time yesterday. Well, up until the end, anyway.”

“Okay.”

She wasn’t sure what his answer meant, but when he flashed a brief smile, she felt herself begin to relax.

“‘Okay?’ That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say after I came all the way down here to apologize? ‘Okay’?”

Instead of answering, Will took a step toward her, and all at once, everything happened too quickly to even make sense of
it. One second he was standing three feet away from her, and in the next he had a hand on her hip and was pulling her close.
Leaning in, he kissed her. His lips were soft, and he was surprisingly gentle. Maybe it was simply that he’d caught her by
surprise, but even so, she found herself kissing him back. The kiss didn’t last long, and it wasn’t the kind of earthshaking,
soul-destroying kiss common in movies these days; but even so, she was glad it happened, and for whatever reason, she realized
it was exactly what she’d wanted him to do.

When he pulled back, Ronnie could feel the blood flood her cheeks. His expression was kind but serious, and there was absolutely
nothing wishy-washy about it.

“The next time you’re mad at me, talk to me,” he said. “Don’t shut me out. I don’t like playing games. And by the way, I had
a great time, too.”

Ronnie still felt a little off balance as she walked back home. Replaying their kiss a hundred times, she still wasn’t sure
how it happened.

But she liked it. She liked it a lot. All of which begged the question as to why she’d simply left afterward. It felt as though
they should have made plans to see each other again, but with Scott in the background staring at them with his mouth hanging
open, it seemed easier to give him another quick kiss and let him get back to work. But somehow she was certain they’d see
each other again, probably sooner rather than later.

He liked her. She wasn’t sure why or how it happened, but he did. The thought was amazing, and she wished Kayla were here
so she could talk to her about it. She supposed she could call her, but it wouldn’t be the same, and besides, she wasn’t even
sure what she would say. She supposed she just wanted someone to listen.

As she approached the house, the door to the workshop swung open. Jonah stepped out into the sunlight and headed toward the
house.

“Hey, Jonah!” she called out.

“Oh, hey, Ronnie!” Jonah turned and started jogging toward her. When he got close, he seemed to study her. “Can I ask you
a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want a cookie?”

“What?”

“A cookie. Like an Oreo. Do you want one?”

She had no idea where this was going, for the simple reason that her brother’s brain ran on tracks perpendicular, not parallel,
to her own. She answered with caution. “No.”

“How can you not want a cookie?”

“I just don’t.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, waving it off. “Let’s say you did want a cookie. Let’s say you were
dying
for a cookie, and there were cookies in the cupboard. What would you do?”

“I’d eat a cookie?” she suggested.

Jonah snapped his fingers. “Exactly. That’s all I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“That if people want cookies, they should get a cookie. It’s what people do.”

Aha, she thought. Now it makes sense. “Let me guess. Dad won’t let you have a cookie?”

“No. Even though I’m practically starving to death, he won’t even consider it. He says I have to have a sandwich first.”

“And you don’t think that’s fair.”

“You just said you’d get a cookie if you wanted one. So why can’t I? I’m not a little kid. I can make my own decisions.” He
stared at her earnestly.

She brought a finger to her chin. “Hmm. I can see why this bothers you so much.”

“It’s not fair. If he wants a cookie, he can have one. If you want a cookie, you can have one. But if I want a cookie, the
rules don’t count. Like you said, it’s not fair.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to eat a sandwich. Because I have to. Because the world isn’t fair to ten-year-olds.”

He trudged off without waiting for a response. She had to smile as she watched him go. Maybe later, she thought, she’d take
him out for an ice cream. For a moment, she debated whether or not to follow him into the house, then she changed her mind
and headed to the workshop. She figured it was probably time to see the window that she’d heard so much about.

From the door, she could see her dad soldering some lead together.

“Hey, sweetheart. Come on in.”

Ronnie stepped inside, really taking in the workshop for the first time. She wrinkled her nose at the weird animals on the
shelves and eventually wandered to the table, where she saw the window. As far as she could tell, they still had a long way
to go; it wasn’t even a quarter complete, and if the pattern was any indication, there were probably hundreds of pieces to
go.

After finishing with the piece, her dad stood straighter and rolled his shoulders. “The table’s a little low for me. It gets
to me after a while.”

“Do you need some Tylenol?”

“No, I’m just getting old. Tylenol can’t do much to fix that.”

She smiled before walking away from the table. Tacked to the wall, next to a newspaper article describing the fire, was a
photograph of the window. She leaned in closer to get a better look before she turned to face him. “I talked to him,” she
said. “I went over to the garage where he works.”

“And?”

“He likes me.”

Her dad shrugged. “He should. You’re a catch.”

Ronnie smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude. She wondered, but couldn’t quite remember, if he’d always been this nice. “Why
are you making the window for the church? Because Pastor Harris is letting you stay in the house?”

“No. I would have made one anyway…” He trailed off. In the silence, Ronnie was looking at him expectantly. “It’s a long story.
Are you sure you want to hear it?”

She nodded.

“I was maybe six or seven when I first wandered into Pastor Harris’s church. I took refuge there to get out of the rain—I
mean, it was pouring and I was soaked. When I heard him playing the piano, I remember thinking that he’d tell me I couldn’t
stay. But he didn’t. Instead, he brought me a blanket and a cup of soup, and he called my mom so she could come pick me up.
But before she got there, he let me play the piano. I was just a little kid, banging on the keys, but… anyway, I ended up
going back the next day and he eventually became my first piano teacher. He had this great love of music. He used to tell
me that beautiful music was akin to angels singing, and I just got hooked. I went to the church every day and I’d play for
hours beneath the original window, with this heavenly light cascading around me. That’s the image I always see when I recall
the hours I spent there. This beautiful flood of light. And a few months ago, when the church burned…”