Home > The Last Song(15)

The Last Song(15)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

Blaze, though… she was just…

Ronnie wasn’t sure exactly. Controlled by her emotions, certainly. Angry and jealous, too. But in the day they’d spent together, she’d never gotten the feeling that something was wrong with the girl, aside from being an emotional wreck, a tornado of hormones and immaturity that left destruction in her wake.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She really didn’t want to go inside. In her mind, she could already hear the conversation.

Hey, sweetie, how did it go?

Not too well. Blaze is completely under the spell of a manipulative sociopath and lied to the cops this morning, so I’m going to jail. And by the way? The sociopath not only decided he wants to sleep with me, but he followed me and practically scared me to death. How did your day go?

Not exactly the pleasant after-dinner chitchat he probably wanted to have, even if it was the truth.

Which meant she would have to fake it. Sighing, she heaved herself up from the porch steps and headed for the door.

Inside, her dad sat on the couch, a dog-eared Bible open in front of him. He closed it as she walked in.

“Hey, sweetie, how did it go?”

Figured.

She forced a quick smile, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. “I didn’t have a chance to talk to her,” she said.

*     *     *

It was hard to act normal, but somehow she pulled it off. As soon as she got inside, her dad had encouraged her to follow him to the kitchen, where he had made another pasta dish—tomatoes, eggplant, squash, and zucchini over penne. They ate in the kitchen while Jonah put together a Lego Star Wars outpost, something that Pastor Harris had brought him when he’d dropped by to say hello earlier.

Afterward, they settled in the living room, and sensing she wasn’t in the mood to talk, her dad read his Bible while she read Anna Karenina, a book her mom had sworn she would love. Though the book seemed okay, Ronnie couldn’t concentrate on it. Not only because of Blaze and Marcus, but because her dad was reading the Bible. Thinking back, she realized she’d never seen him do that before. Then again, she thought, maybe he had and she’d just never noticed.

Jonah finished building his Lego contraption and announced he was going to bed. She gave him a few minutes, hoping he’d be asleep before she entered the room, then put aside her book and rose from the couch.

“Good night, sweetheart,” her dad said. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m glad you’re here.”

She paused before crossing the room toward him. Leaning over, and for the first time in three years, she kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Dad.”

In the darkened bedroom, Ronnie took a seat on her bed, feeling drained. Though she didn’t want to cry—she hated when she cried—she couldn’t seem to stop the sudden rush of emotions. She drew a ragged breath.

“Go ahead and cry,” she heard Jonah whisper.

Great, she thought. Just what she needed.

“I’m not crying,” she said.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me.”

Ronnie sniffled, trying to get herself under control, and reached under her pillow for the pajamas she’d stashed earlier. Pressing them close to her chest, she stood up to go to the bathroom to change. On her way, she happened to glance out the window. The moon had ascended in the sky, making the sand glow silver, and when she turned in the direction of the turtle nest, she detected a sudden movement in the shadows.

After sniffing the air, the raccoon started toward the nest, protected only by yellow caution tape.

“Oh, crap!”

She threw down her pajamas and raced out of the bedroom. As she bolted through the living room and kitchen, she vaguely heard her dad shouting, “What’s wrong?” But she was already out the door before she could answer. Cresting the dune, she began screaming as she waved her arms.

“No! Stop! Go away!!”

The raccoon raised its head, then quickly scurried away. It vanished over the dune into the saw grass.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

Turning, she saw her dad and Jonah standing on the porch.

“They didn’t put up the cage!”

13

Will

The doors of Blakelee Brakes had been open only for ten minutes when Will saw her push through the lobby doors and head directly into the service center.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he started toward her.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Thanks for nothing!” she snapped.

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked you to do one simple thing! Just make a call to have the cage put up! But you couldn’t even do that!”

“Wait… what’s going on?” He blinked.

“I told you I saw a raccoon! I told you a raccoon was coming around the nest!”

“Did something happen to the nest?”

“Like you even care. What? Did your volleyball game make you forget?”

“I just want to know if the nest is okay.”

She continued to glare at him. “Yeah. It’s fine. No thanks to you.” She turned on her heels and stormed toward the exit.

“Wait!” he shouted. “Hold on!”

She ignored him, leaving Will shocked and rooted in place as she pounded through the small lobby and out the front door.

“What the hell was that all about?”

Over his shoulder, Will realized Scott was staring at him from behind the lift.

“Do me a favor,” Will called to him.

“What do you need?”

He fished his keys out of his pocket and started toward the truck he’d parked out back. “Cover for me. I’ve got to take care of something.”

Scott took a quick step forward. “Wait! What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. If my dad comes in, tell him I’ll be right back. You can get things started while I’m gone.”

“Where you going?” Scott called.

This time Will didn’t answer, and Scott took a step toward him.

“C’mon, man! I don’t want to do this alone! We’ve got a ton of cars to work on.”

Will didn’t care, and once out of the bay, he jogged toward his truck, knowing where he needed to go.

He found her at the dune an hour later, standing beside the nest, still as angry as she’d been when she’d shown up at the brake shop.

Seeing him approach, she put her hands on her hips. “What do you want?”

“You didn’t let me finish. I did call.”

“Sure you did.”

He inspected the nest. “The nest is fine. What’s the big deal?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. No thanks to you.”

Will felt a ripple of irritation. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that I had to sleep outside again last night because the raccoon came back. The same raccoon I told you about!”

“You slept outside?”

“Do you ever listen to anything I say? Yes, I had to sleep outside. Two nights in a row, because you won’t do your job! If I hadn’t been looking out the window at exactly the right moment, the raccoon would have gotten the eggs. He wasn’t more than a couple of feet away from the nest when I finally scared him away. And then I had to stay out here because I knew he was going to come back. Which is why I asked you to call in the first place! And I assumed that even a beach bum like yourself could remember to do your job!”

She stared at him, hands on her h*ps again, as if trying to annihilate him with her death ray vision.

He couldn’t resist. “One more time, so I have the story straight: You saw a raccoon, then you wanted me to call, then you saw a raccoon again. And you ended up sleeping outside. Is that right?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, whirling away, she made a beeline for her house.

“They’re coming first thing tomorrow!” he called out. “And just to let you know, I did call. Twice, in fact. Once right after I put up the tape, and once more after I got off work. How many times do I have to say this before you’ll listen?”

Though she stopped, she still wouldn’t face him. He went on, “And then this morning, after you left, I went straight to the director of the aquarium and spoke to him in person. He said that this nest will be their first stop in the morning. That they would have come today, but there are eight nests on Holden Beach.”

She slowly turned around and studied him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth.

“That doesn’t help my turtles tonight, does it?”

“Your turtles?”

“Yeah,” she said. Her tone was emphatic. “My house. My turtles.”

And with that, she turned and went back to her house, this time without caring that he was still there.

He liked her; it was as simple as that.

On his way back to work, he still wasn’t sure why he liked her, but never once had he left work to chase after Ashley. Every time he’d seen her, she’d managed to surprise him. He liked the way she said what was on her mind, and he liked how unfazed she was by him. Ironically, he’d yet to leave a good impression. First he’d spilled soda on her, next she’d seen him almost involved in a riot, and then this morning she’d believed him to be either lazy or an idiot.

No problem, of course. She wasn’t a friend and he didn’t really know her… but for whatever reason, he cared what she thought about him. And not only did he care, but crazy as it sounded, he wanted her to have a good impression of him. Because he wanted her to like him, too.

It was an odd experience, a new one for him, and the rest of the day at the shop—working through lunch to make up for the time he’d missed—he found his thoughts returning to her. He felt that there was something genuine in the way she spoke and acted, something caring and kind beneath the brittle facade. Something that let him know that while he’d disappointed her to this point, there was, with her, always a chance for redemption.

Later that night, he found her sitting exactly where he thought she would be, in a beach chair with a book open in her lap, reading by the light of a small lantern.

She looked up as he approached, then went back to her book, acting neither surprised nor pleased.

“I figured you’d be here,” he said. “Your house, your turtles, and all.”

When she didn’t respond, his gaze drifted. It wasn’t very late, and shadows were moving behind the curtains of the small house she lived in.

“Any sign of the raccoon?”

Instead of answering, she flipped a page of her book.

“Wait. Let me guess. You’re giving me the cold shoulder, right?”

With that, she sighed. “Shouldn’t you be with your friends, staring at yourselves in the mirror?”

He laughed. “That’s funny. I’ll have to remember that.”

“I’m not being funny. I’m being serious.”

“Oh, because we’re so good-looking, right?”

In response, she went back to her book, but Will could tell she wasn’t actually reading. He took a seat beside her.

“‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,’” he quoted, pointing to her book. “It’s the first line in your book. I always thought there was a lot of truth in that. Or maybe that’s what my English teacher said. I can’t really remember. I read it last semester.”

“Your parents must be so proud you can read.”

“They are. They bought me a pony and everything when I did a book report on Cat in the Hat.”

“Was that before or after you claimed to have read Tolstoy?”

“Oh, so you are listening. Just making sure.” He spread his arms toward the horizon. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? I’ve always loved nights like this. There’s something relaxing about waves sounding in the darkness, don’t you think?” He paused.

She closed her book. “What’s with the full-court press?”

“I like people who like turtles.”

“So go hang out with your aquarium friends. Oh, wait, you can’t. Because they’re saving other turtles, and your other friends are painting their nails and curling their hair, right?”

“Probably. But I just figured you might want some company.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Now go.”

“It’s a public beach. I like it here.”

“So you’re going to stay?”

“I think so.”

“Then you won’t mind if I go inside?”

He sat up straighter and brought a hand to his chin. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I mean, how can you trust that I’ll stay out here all night? And with that pesky raccoon…”

“What do you want with me?” she demanded.

“For starters, how about your name?”

She grabbed a towel, spreading it over her legs. “Ronnie,” she said. “It’s short for Veronica.”

He reclined a little, propping his arms behind him. “All right, Ronnie. What’s your story?”

“Why do you care?”

“Gimme a break,” he said, turning to face her. “I’m trying, okay?”

He wasn’t sure what she thought about that, but as she collected her hair into a loose ponytail, she seemed to accept the idea that she wasn’t going to be able to easily run him off.

“All right. My story: I live in New York with my mom and little brother, but she shipped us here to spend the summer with our dad. And now I’m stuck babysitting turtle eggs while a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer tries to hit on me.”

“I’m not hitting on you,” he protested.

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