The Last Song

by Nicholas Sparks

  "I don't know."

  "Was he here when you got up?"

  "Uh-huh." His gaze never wavered from the TV. "We talked about the window."

  "And then..."

  "I don't know."

  "Are you saying he just vanished into thin air?"

  "No. I'm saying that after that, Pastor Harris came by and they went outside to talk." He made it sound as though the answer were obvious.

  "Then why didn't you say that?" Ronnie threw up her hands in exasperation.

  "Because I'm trying to watch my show while I'm upside down. It's not easy to talk to you with the blood rushing to my head."

  He'd set himself up for any number of snappy comebacks--Maybe you should be upside down more often, then, for instance--but she didn't give in to temptation. Because she was in a better mood. Because she'd slept in. And best of all, because she heard a little voice inside her whisper, You might be going home today. No more Blaze, no more Marcus or Ashley, no more early mornings.

  No more Will, either...

  The thought gave her pause. All in all, he hadn't been so bad. Actually, she'd had a good time with him yesterday, up until the end, anyway. She really should have told him what Ashley had said; she should have explained herself. But with Marcus showing up...

  She really, really wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.

  Pulling aside the curtains, she peeked out the window. Her dad and Pastor Harris were standing in the driveway, and she realized she hadn't seen the pastor since she was a little girl. He'd changed little since then; though he now leaned on a cane, the thick white hair and eyebrows were as memorable as ever. She smiled, remembering how nice he'd been after her grandfather's funeral. She knew why her dad liked him so much; there was something infinitely kind about him, and she recalled that after the service, he'd offered her a glass of fresh lemonade that was sweeter than any soda. They seemed to be talking to someone else in the drive, someone she couldn't see. She walked to the door and opened it to get a better view. It took only an instant to recognize the squad car. Officer Pete Johnson was standing just inside the open front car door, plainly getting ready to leave.

  She could hear the engine idling, and as she descended the porch steps, her dad offered a tentative wave. Pete swung the door shut, leaving Ronnie with a sinking feeling.

  When she reached her dad and Pastor Harris, Officer Pete was already backing out of the drive, which only confirmed her sense that bad news was coming.

  "You're up," her dad said. "I just checked in on you a little while ago and you were dead to the world." He motioned with his thumb. "Do you remember Pastor Harris?"

  Ronnie offered her hand. "I remember. Hi again. It's good to see you."

  When Pastor Harris took it, she noticed the shiny scars covering his hands and arms. "I can't believe this is the same young lady I had the good fortune of meeting so long ago. You're all grown up now." He smiled. "You look like your mother."

  She'd heard that a lot lately, but she still wasn't sure what to make of it. Did it mean she looked old? Or that her mom looked young? It was hard to tell, but she knew he meant it as a compliment. "Thank you. How's Mrs. Harris doing?"

  He adjusted his cane. "She's keeping me in line, just like she always has. And I'm sure she'd love to see you as well. If you find a chance to swing by the house, I'll make sure she has a jar of homemade lemonade for you."

  It figured that he'd remember. "I might just take you up on that."

  "I hope so." He turned to Steve. "Thank you again for offering to make the window. It's coming along beautifully."

  He waved off the thanks. "You don't have to thank me..."

  "Of course I do. But I really have to be going. I've got the Towson sisters leading Bible study this morning, and if you knew them, you'd understand why it's imperative that I don't leave them to their own devices. They're quite the fire-and-brimstone types. They love Daniel and Revelation, and seem to forget that Second Corinthians is even a chapter in the good book." He turned to Ronnie. "It was wonderful to see you again, young lady. I hope your father isn't causing you too much trouble these days. You know how parents can be."

  She smiled. "He's okay."

  "Good. But if he causes you any trouble, you come talk to me, and I'll do my best to set him straight. He was quite the mischievous child at times, so I can only imagine how frustrated you must get."

  "I wasn't mischievous," her dad protested. "All I did was play the piano."

  "Remind me to tell you about the time he put red dye in the baptismal well."

  Her dad seemed mortified. "I never did that!"

  Pastor Harris seemed to be enjoying himself. "Maybe not, but my point stands. No matter how he presents himself, your dad wasn't perfect."

  With that, he turned and started up the drive. Ronnie watched him go, amused. Anyone who could make her dad squirm--in a harmless way, of course--was someone she definitely wanted to get to know a little better. Especially if he had stories to tell about her dad. Fun stories. Good stories.

  Her dad's expression as he watched him go was inscrutable. When he turned back to her, however, he seemed to have reverted to the dad she knew, and she remembered again that Officer Pete had been here only a couple of minutes earlier.

  "What was that all about?" she asked. "With Officer Pete."

  "Why don't we have breakfast first? I'm sure you're probably starved. You barely had any dinner."

  She reached for his arms. "Just tell me, Dad."

  Her dad hesitated, struggling to find the right words, but there was no way he could candy-coat the truth. He sighed. "You're not going to be able to go back to New York, at least until you're arraigned next week. The store's owner intends to press charges."

  Ronnie sat on the dune, less angry than frightened at the thought of what was happening inside the house. It had been an hour since her dad had told her what Officer Pete had said, and she'd been sitting out here ever since. She knew her dad was inside talking to her mom on the phone, and Ronnie could only imagine how her mom was reacting. It was the only good thing about being here at all.

  Except for Will...

  Ronnie shook her head, wondering why on earth she kept thinking about him. They were already over, assuming that they had ever really begun. Why had he been interested in her? He'd been together with Ashley for a long time, which meant he liked her type. If there was one thing she'd learned, it was that people didn't change. They liked what they liked, even if they didn't understand why. And she was nothing like Ashley.

  No discussion, no debate. Because if she was like Ashley, she might as well just start swimming toward the horizon until all hope of rescue was gone. She might as well end it now.

  Still, that wasn't what bothered her most. What bothered her was her mom. Her mom was no doubt hearing about the arrest, since her dad was on the phone right now. The idea made her cringe. Her mom was blowing a gasket, no doubt screaming. As soon as she hung up with Dad, she would probably call her sister or her own mom and spread the news about the latest horrible thing Ronnie had done. She was into rehashing all sorts of personal stuff, usually with just enough exaggeration to make Ronnie seem as guilty as possible. Her mom always neglected the nuances, of course. In this case, the most important nuance was that she hadn't done it!

  But did that matter? Of course not. She could feel her mom's rage, and the whole thing made her sick to her stomach. Maybe it was a good thing she wasn't going home today.

  Behind her, she heard her dad approach. When she glanced over her shoulder, he hesitated. She knew he was trying to figure out whether she wanted to be alone, before he gingerly took a seat beside her. He didn't say anything right away. Instead, he seemed to be watching a distant shrimp trawler anchored near the horizon.

  "Was she mad?"

  She already knew the answer, but she couldn't help asking.

  "A little," he admitted.

  "Just a little?"

  "I'm pretty sure she Godzilla'd the kitchen
while we were talking."

  Ronnie closed her eyes, imagining the scene. "Did you tell her what really happened?"

  "Of course I did. And I made sure to tell her that I was certain you were telling the truth." He put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. "She'll get over it. She always does."

  Ronnie nodded. In the silence, she could feel her dad studying her.

  "I'm sorry you can't go home today," he said. His tone was soft and apologetic. "I know how much you hate it here."

  "I don't hate it here," she said automatically. Surprising herself, she realized that as much as she'd been trying to convince herself otherwise, she was telling the truth. "It's just that I don't belong here."

  He gave her a melancholy smile. "If it's any consolation, when I was growing up, I didn't feel like I belonged here, either. I dreamed about going to New York. But it's strange, because when I finally escaped this place, I ended up missing it more than I thought I would. There's something about the ocean that just calls to me."

  She turned toward him. "What's going to happen to me? Did Officer Pete say anything more?"

  "No. Just that the owner feels like she has to press charges, since the items were valuable and she's had a lot of problems with shoplifting lately."

  "But I didn't do it!" Ronnie cried.

  "I know," he said, "and we'll work it out. We'll find a good lawyer and take it from there."

  "Are lawyers expensive?"

  "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.