The Last Song - Страница 18


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Pete Johnson, the officer, told him what had happened, but he knew Ronnie wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. Jonah, however, didn’t seem to care.

“Mom is going to be mad,” Jonah remarked.

Steve saw Ronnie’s jaw clench.

“I didn’t do it,” she started.

“Then who did?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. She crossed her arms and leaned against the car door.

“Mom’s not going to like it.”

“I didn’t do it!” Ronnie repeated, swiveling toward Jonah. “And I don’t want you to tell her that I did.” She made sure he understood she was serious before turning to face her father.

“I didn’t do it, Dad,” she repeated. “I swear to God I didn’t. You have to believe me.”

He heard the desperation in her tone but couldn’t help remembering Kim’s despair when they’d talked about Ronnie’s history. He thought about the way she’d acted since she’d been here and considered the kinds of people she’d chosen to befriend.

Sighing, he felt what little energy he had left dissipate. Ahead, the sun was a hot and furious orange ball, and more than anything, he knew his daughter needed the truth.

“I believe you,” he said.


By the time they got home, dusk was setting in. Steve went outside to check on the turtle nest. It was one of those gorgeous evenings typical of the Carolinas -a soft breeze, the sky a quilt of a thousand different colors-and just offshore, a pod of dolphins played beyond the break point. They passed by the house twice a day, and he reminded himself to tell Jonah to watch for them. No doubt he’d want to swim out to see if he could get close enough to touch them; Steve used to try the same thing when he was young, but never once had he been successful.

He dreaded having to call Kim and tell her what happened. Putting it off, he took a seat on the dune beside the nest, staring at what was left of the turtle tracks. Between the wind and the crowds, most of them had been erased entirely. Aside from a small indentation at the spot where the dune met the beach, the nest was practically invisible, and the couple of eggs he could see resembled pale, smooth rocks.

A piece of Styrofoam had blown onto the sand, and as he leaned over to pick it up, he noticed Ronnie approaching. She was walking slowly, her arms crossed, head bowed so that her hair hid most of her face. She stopped a few feet away.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked.

It was the first time since she’d been here that she’d spoken to him without a hint of anger or frustration.

“No,” he said. “Not at all.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

He pointed toward the nest. “A loggerhead turtle laid her eggs last night. Have you ever seen one?”

Ronnie shook her head, and Steve went on. “They’re beautiful creatures. They’ve got this reddish-brown shell, and they can weigh up to eight hundred pounds. North Carolina is one of the few places they nest. But anyway, they’re endangered. I think only one out of a thousand live to maturity, and I don’t want the raccoons to get the nest before they hatch.”

“How would the raccoons even know that a nest is here?”

“When a female loggerhead lays her eggs, she urinates. The raccoons can smell it, and they’ll eat every single one of the eggs. When I was young, I found a nest on the other side of the pier. One day everything was fine, and the next day all the shells had been broken open. It was sad.”

“I saw a raccoon on our porch the other day.”

“I know. It’s been getting into the garbage. And as soon as I go in, I’m going to leave a message with the aquarium. Hopefully, they’ll send someone by tomorrow with a special cage that’ll keep the critters out.”

“What about tonight?”

“I guess we’re going to have to have faith.”

Ronnie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Dad? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did you say you believed me?”

In profile, he could see both the young woman she was becoming and the little girl he remembered.

“Because I trust you.”

“Is that why you built the wall to hide the piano?” She looked at him only indirectly. “When I went inside, it wasn’t that hard to miss.”

Steve shook his head. “No. I did that because I love you.”

Ronnie flashed a brief smile, hesitating before taking a seat beside him. They watched the waves rolling steadily up the shore. High tide would be here soon, and the beach was half-gone.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked.

“Pete is going to talk to the owner, but I don’t know. A couple of those records were real collector’s items. They’re pretty valuable.”

Ronnie felt sick to her stomach. “Have you told Mom yet?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

“Probably.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. At the water’s edge, a group of surfers walked past, holding their boards. In the distance, the swells were slowly rising, forming waves that seemed to collide before immediately re-forming.

“When are you going to call the aquarium?”

“When I head back inside. I’m sure Jonah’s getting hungry anyway. I should probably start dinner.”

Ronnie stared at the nest. With her stomach in knots, she couldn’t imagine eating. “I don’t want anything to happen to the turtle eggs tonight.”

Steve turned toward her. “So what do you want to do?”


Hours later, after tucking Jonah into bed, Steve stepped out onto the back porch to check on Ronnie. Earlier, after he’d left a message at the aquarium, he’d gone to the store to buy what he thought she needed: a light sleeping bag, a camping lantern, a cheap pillow, and some bug spray.

He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Ronnie sleeping outside, but she was clearly determined and he admired her impulse to protect the nest. She’d been insistent that she would be fine, and to some extent, he trusted she was right. Like most people who grew up in Manhattan, she’d learned to be careful and had seen and experienced enough of the world to know it was sometimes a dangerous place. Moreover, the nest was less than fifty feet from his bedroom window-which he intended to keep open-so he was confident he’d hear something if Ronnie ran into trouble. Because of the shape of the windblown dune and the location of the nest, it wasn’t likely that anyone walking on the beach would even know she was there.

Still, she was only seventeen, and he was her father, all of which meant he’d probably end up checking on her every few hours. There wasn’t a chance he’d be able to sleep through the night.

The moon was only a sliver, but the sky was clear, and as he moved through the shadows, he thought back on their conversation. He wondered how she felt about the fact that he’d hidden the piano. Would she wake up tomorrow with the same attitude she’d had when she’d first arrived? He didn’t know. As he drew near enough to make out Ronnie’s sleeping form, the play of starlight and shadow made her appear both younger and older than she really was. He thought again about the years he’d lost and would never get back.

He stayed long enough to gaze up and down the beach. As far as he could tell, no one was out, so he turned and headed back inside. He sat on the couch and turned on the television, flipping through the channels before turning it off. Finally, he went to his room and crawled into bed.

He fell asleep almost immediately but woke an hour later. Tiptoeing outside again, he went to check on the daughter he loved more than life itself.

12 Ronnie

Her first thought upon waking was that everything hurt. Her back was stiff, her neck ached, and when she got the courage to sit up, a stabbing pain coursed through her shoulder.

She couldn’t imagine anyone ever choosing to sleep outdoors. When she was growing up, some of her friends had extolled the joys of camping, but she’d thought they were deranged. Sleeping on the ground hurt.

And so, of course, did the blinding sun. Judging by fact that she’d been waking up with the farmers since she’d arrived, she figured today was no different. It probably wasn’t even seven yet. The sun was hanging low over the ocean, and a few people were walking their dogs or jogging near the water’s edge. No doubt they’d slept in beds. She couldn’t imagine walking, let alone exercising. Right now it was hard enough to breathe without passing out.

Steeling herself, she slowly got to her feet before remembering why she’d been out here in the first place. She checked the nest, noting with relief that it was undisturbed, and ever so slowly, the aches and pains began to subside. She wondered idly how Blaze could tolerate sleeping on the beach, and then all of a sudden she remembered what Blaze had done to her.

Arrested for shoplifting. Serious shoplifting. Felony shoplifting.

She closed her eyes, reliving it all: the way the store manager had glared at her until the officer had arrived, Officer Pete’s disappointment on the drive to the station, the awful phone call she’d had to make to her dad. She’d felt like throwing up on the car ride home.

If there was one bright spot in all that had happened, it was that her dad hadn’t blown a gasket. And even more incredible, he’d said he believed her to be innocent Then again, he hadn’t spoken to Mom yet. As soon as that happened, all bets were off. No doubt Mom would scream and shout until Dad gave in, and he’d end up grounding her because he’d promised Mom that he would. After the Incident, her mom had grounded her for a month, and this was way, way bigger than just an incident.

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