"It looks that way," she said.
"May I see it?"
"Why not?"
Together, they headed toward the ramshackle building. Once inside, Will saw a bare light bulb dangling from an extension cord, over a large worktable in the center of the room.
"I guess he's not here," Ronnie said, looking around.
"Is that the window?" Will asked, approaching the worktable. "It's huge."
Ronnie moved to his side. "It's amazing, isn't it? It's for the church they're rebuilding down the street."
"You didn't tell me that." His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.
"I didn't think it was important," she said automatically. "Why? Is it important?"
Will forced his mind away from images of Scott and the fire. "Not really," he said quickly, pretending to inspect the glass. "I just didn't realize your dad had the ability to make something so intricate."
"I didn't either. Neither did he, until he started, anyway. But he told me it was important to him, so maybe that has something to do with it."
"Why was it so important to him?"
As Ronnie related the story her dad had told her, Will stared at the window, remembering what Scott had done. And, of course, what he hadn't done. She must have seen something in his face because when she finished, she seemed to be studying him.
"What are you thinking about?"
He ran his hand over the glass before he answered. "Do you ever wonder what it means to be a friend?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
He looked over at her. "How far would you go to protect a friend?"
She hesitated. "I suppose that depends on what the friend did. And how serious it was." She put a hand on his back. "What aren't you telling me?"
When he didn't answer, she scooted closer to him. "In the end, you should always do the right thing, even if it's hard. I know that might not help you and that the right thing isn't always so easy to figure out. At least on the surface, anyway. But even when I was justifying to myself that stealing was no big deal, I knew it was wrong. It was making me feel... dark inside." She brought her face close to his, and he caught the scent of sand and sea on her skin. "I didn't fight the charges because something inside me knew that what I'd been doing was wrong. Some people can live with that, as long as they get away with it. They see shades of gray where I see black and white. But I'm not that kind of person... and I don't think you are, either."
Will's gaze slid away from hers. He wanted to tell her, longed to tell her everything since he knew she was right, but he couldn't seem to find the words. She understood him in ways that no one else ever had. He could learn from her, he thought. He would be a better person with her by his side. In many ways, he needed her. When he forced himself to nod, she rested her head against his shoulder.
When they finally left the shed, he reached out to stop her before she headed back to her house. He pulled her close and began to kiss her. First her lips, then her cheek, and then her neck. Her skin was like fire, as if she'd been lying in the sun for hours, and when he kissed her lips again, he felt her fold her body into his. He buried his hands in her hair, continuing to kiss her as he slowly backed her against the wall of the workshop. He loved her, he wanted her, and as they continued to kiss, he could feel her arms moving over his back and shoulders. Her touch was electric against his skin, her breath hot against his, and he felt himself slipping away to a place governed only by his senses.
His hands were roving over her back and stomach when he finally felt Ronnie place her hands on his chest and push him away.
"Please," she breathed, "we've got to stop."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want my dad to catch us. He might be watching us from the window right now."
"We're just kissing."
"Yeah. And we just sort of like each other, too." She laughed.
A languid smile spread over his face. "What? We weren't just kissing?"
"I'm just saying that it felt like... what we were doing was leading up to something more," she said, straightening her shirt.
"And the problem is?"
Her expression told him to stop playing games, and he knew she had a point, even if it wasn't what he wanted. "You're right." He sighed, dropping his hands into a loose circle around her waist. "I'll try to control myself."
She kissed him on the cheek. "I have complete confidence in you."
"Gee, thanks," he groaned.
She winked. "I'm going to go check on my dad, okay?"
"Okay. I've got to be at work early tomorrow anyway."
She smiled. "Too bad. I don't have to be at work until ten."
"Are they still having you feed the otters?"
"They'd starve without me. I'm pretty much indispensable now."
He laughed. "Have I told you that I think you're a keeper?"
"I don't think anyone's ever said that to me. But just so you know, you're not so bad to have around, either."
24
Ronnie
Ronnie watched Will walk off before making her way back to the house, thinking about the things he'd said and wondering if he was right about Blaze. The upcoming court date had been weighing on her all summer: She sometimes wondered whether the anticipation of the possible punishment was worse than the punishment itself. As the weeks had rolled by, she'd been waking up in the middle of the night and finding it impossible to go back to sleep. It wasn't that she was terrified of going to prison--she doubted that she'd be locked up--but she fretted that these crimes would follow her forever. Would she have to reveal her history to a college she might attend? Did she have to tell her future employers? Would she be able to get a job teaching? She didn't know whether she'd attend college or even wanted to become a teacher, but the fear remained. Would this haunt her forever?
Her lawyer didn't think so, but she wouldn't promise anything.
And the wedding. It was easy for Will to ask her to come, to assume it was no big deal. But she knew that Susan didn't want her there, and the last thing she wanted was to be some sort of distraction. This was supposed to be Megan's day.
Reaching the back porch, she was about to step inside when she heard the rocking chair squeak. She jumped back in terror, only to see Jonah watching her.
"That. Was. So. Gross."
"What are you doing out here?" she demanded, her heart still racing.
"Watching you and Will. Like I said, that was really gross." He made a point to shiver.
"You were spying on us?"
"It was kind of hard not to. You were right there by the workshop with Will. It looked like he was practically squishing you to death."
"He wasn't," Ronnie assured him.
"I'm just saying how it looked."
She smiled. "You'll understand when you're a little older."
Jonah shook his head. "I understand exactly what you were doing. I've seen movies. I just think it's gross."
"You've already said that," she pointed out.
That seemed to stop him for a second. "Where's he going?"
"Home. He's got to work tomorrow."
"Are you going to watch the turtle nest tonight? Because you don't have to. Dad said that we could watch it tonight."
"You convinced Dad to sleep outside?"
"He wants to. He thinks it'll be fun
."
I doubt it, she thought. "It's fine with me."
"I've already got my stuff ready. Sleeping bag, lantern, juices, sandwiches, a box of Ritz crackers, marshmallows, potato chips, cookies, and a tennis racket."
"You're going to play tennis?"
"In case the raccoon comes. You know. If it tries to attack us."
"It's not going to attack you."
"Really?" He sounded almost disappointed.
"Well, maybe it is a good idea," Ronnie agreed. "Just in case. You never know."
He scratched his head. "That's what I thought, too."
She pointed toward the workshop. "The window looks beautiful, by the way."
"Thanks," Jonah said. "Dad wants to make sure every single piece is perfect. He makes me do some pieces two or three times. But I'm getting pretty good."
"It looks like it."
"But it gets hot. Especially when he runs the kiln. It's like an oven."
It is an oven, she thought. But she didn't correct him. "That's too bad. How's the whole cookie war going?"
"It's fine. I just have to eat them when he's napping."
"Dad doesn't nap."
"He does now. Every afternoon, for a couple of hours. Sometimes I have to shake him pretty hard to wake him up."
She stared at her brother before peering through the window into the house. "Where is Dad, by the way?"
"He's at the church. Pastor Harris came by earlier. He's been coming by a lot lately. Him and Dad like to talk."
"They're friends."
"I know. But I think he just used that as an excuse. I think Dad went to play the piano."
"What piano?" Ronnie asked, puzzled.
"It got delivered to the church last week. Dad's been going over there to play."
"He has, huh?"
"Hold on," he said. "I'm not sure I was supposed to tell you that. Maybe you should forget I said it."
"Why shouldn't you tell me?"
"Because you might yell at him again."
"I'm not going to yell at him," Ronnie protested. "When was the last time I yelled at him?"
"When he was playing the piano. Remember?"
Oh, yeah, she thought. The kid had an amazing memory. "Well, I'm not going to yell at him."
"Good. Because I don't want you to yell at him. We're supposed to go to Fort Fisher tomorrow, and I want him to be in a good mood."
"How long has he been at the church?"
"I don't know. It feels like hours. That's why I was out here. I was waiting for him. And then you showed up with Will and started making out."