Nicholas Sparks: The Last Song

He now believed that the real answer lay somewhere in the nexus of love he felt for his children, in the ache he experienced when he woke in the quiet house and realized they weren’t here. But even then, he knew there was something more.

And somehow, he hoped his children would help him find it.

A few minutes later, Steve noticed the sun reflecting off the windshield of a dusty station wagon outside. He and Kim had purchased it years ago for weekend outings to Costco and family getaways. He wondered in passing if she’d remembered to change the oil before she’d driven down, or even since he’d left. Probably not, he decided. Kim had never been good at things like that, which was why he’d always taken care of them.

But that part of his life was over now.

Steve rose from his seat, and by the time he stepped onto the porch, Jonah was already out of the car and rushing toward him. His hair hadn’t been combed, his glasses were crooked, and his arms and legs were as skinny as pencils. Steve felt his throat tighten, reminded again of how much he’d missed in the past three years.

“Dad!”

“Jonah!” Steve shouted back as he crossed the rocky sand that constituted his yard. When Jonah jumped into his arms, it was all he could do to remain upright.

“You’ve gotten so big,” he said.

“And you’ve gotten smaller!” Jonah said. “You’re skinny now.”

Steve hugged his son tight before putting him down. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too. Mom and Ronnie fought the whole time.”

“That’s no fun.”

“It’s okay. I ignored it. Except when I egged them on.”

“Ah,” Steve responded.

Jonah pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t Mom let us fly?”

“Did you ask her?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should.”

“It’s not important. I was just wondering.”

Steve smiled. He’d forgotten how talkative his son could be.

“Hey, is this your house?”

“That’s it.”

“This place is awesome!”

Steve wondered if Jonah was serious. The house was anything but awesome. The bungalow was easily the oldest property on Wrightsville Beach and sandwiched between two massive homes that had gone up within the last ten years, making it seem even more diminutive. The paint was peeling, the roof was missing numerous shingles, and the porch was rotting; it wouldn’t surprise him if the next decent storm blew it over, which would no doubt please the neighbors. Since he’d moved in, neither family had ever spoken to him.

“You think so?” he said.

“Hello? It’s right on the beach. What else could you want?” He motioned toward the ocean. “Can I go check it out?”

“Sure. But be careful. And stay behind the house. Don’t wander off.”

“Deal.”

Steve watched him jog off before turning to see Kim approaching. Ronnie had stepped out of the car as well but was still lingering near it.

“Hi, Kim,” he said.

“Steve.” She leaned in to give him a brief hug. “You doing okay?” she asked. “You look thin.”

“I’m okay.”

Behind her, Steve noticed Ronnie slowly making her way toward them. He was struck by how much she’d changed since the last photo Kim had e-mailed. Gone was the all-American girl he remembered, and in her place was a young woman with a purple streak in her long brown hair, black fingernail polish, and dark clothing. Despite the obvious signs of teenage rebellion, he thought again how much she resembled her mother. Good thing, too. She was, he thought, as lovely as ever.

He cleared his throat. “Hi, sweetie. It’s good to see you.”

When Ronnie didn’t answer, Kim scowled at her. “Don’t be rude. Your father’s talking to you. Say something.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “All right. How about this? I’m not going to play the piano for you.”

“Ronnie!” Steve could hear Kim’s exasperation.

“What?” She tossed her head. “I thought I’d get that out of the way early.”

Before Kim could respond, Steve shook his head. The last thing he wanted was an argument. “It’s okay, Kim.”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s okay,” Ronnie said, pouncing. “I need to stretch my legs. I’m going for a walk.”

As she stomped away, Steve watched Kim struggle with the impulse to call her back. In the end, though, she said nothing.

“Long drive?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You can’t even imagine it.”

He smiled, thinking that for just an instant, it was easy to imagine they were still married, both of them on the same team, both of them still in love.

Except, of course, that they weren’t.

After unloading the bags, Steve went to the kitchen, where he tapped ice cubes from the old-fashioned tray and dropped them into the mismatched glasses that had come with the place.

Behind him, he heard Kim enter the kitchen. He reached for a pitcher of sweet tea, poured two glasses, and handed one to her. Outside, Jonah was alternately chasing, and being chased by, the waves as seagulls fluttered overhead.

“It looks like Jonah’s having fun,” he said.

Kim took a step toward the window. “He’s been excited about coming for weeks.” She hesitated. “He’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed him.”

“I know,” she said. She took a drink of her tea before glancing around the kitchen. “So this is the place, huh? It’s got… character.”

“By character, I assume you’ve noticed the leaky roof and lack of air-conditioning.”

Kim flashed a brief smile, caught.

“I know it’s not much. But it’s quiet and I can watch the sun come up.”

“And the church is letting you stay here for free?”

Steve nodded. “It belonged to Carson Johnson. He was a local artist, and when he passed away, he left the house to the church. Pastor Harris is letting me stay until they’re ready to sell.”

“So what’s it like living back home? I mean, your parents used to live, what? Three blocks from here?”

Seven, actually. Close. “It’s all right.” He shrugged.

“It’s so crowded now. The place has really changed since the last time I was here.”

“Everything changes,” he said. He leaned against the counter, crossing one leg over the other. “So when’s the big day?” he asked, changing the subject. “For you and Brian?”

“Steve… about that.”

“It’s okay,” he said, raising a hand. “I’m glad you found someone.”

Kim stared at him, clearly wondering whether to accept his words at face value or plunge into sensitive territory.

“In January,” she finally said. “And I want you to know that with the kids… Brian doesn’t pretend to be someone he isn’t. You’d like him.”

“I’m sure I would,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He set the glass back down. “How do the kids feel about him?”

“Jonah seems to like him, but Jonah likes everyone.”

“And Ronnie?”

“She gets along with him about as well as she gets along with you.”

He laughed before noting her worried expression. “How’s she really doing?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “And I don’t think she does, either. She’s in this dark, moody phase. She ignores her curfew, and half the time I can’t get more than a ‘Whatever’ when I try to talk to her. I try to write it off as typical teenage stuff, because I remember what it was like… but…” She shook her head. “You saw the way she was dressed, right? And her hair and that god-awful mascara?”

“Mmm.”

“And?”

“It could be worse.”

Kim opened her mouth to say something, but when nothing came out, Steve knew he was right. Whatever stage she was going through, whatever Kim’s fears, Ronnie was still Ronnie.