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.
"I guess," she conceded, before shaking her head. "No, I know you're right. It's just been so difficult with her lately. There are times she's still as sweet as ever. Like with Jonah. Even though they fight like cats and dogs, she still brings him to the park every weekend. And when he was having trouble in math, she tutored him every night. Which is strange, because she's barely passing any of her classes. And I haven't told you this, but I made her take the SATs in February. She missed every single question. Do you know how smart you have to be to miss every single question?"
When Steve laughed, Kim frowned. "It's not funny."
"It's kind of funny."
"You haven't had to deal with her these last three years."
He paused, chastened. "You're right. I'm sorry." He reached for his glass again. "What did the judge say about her shoplifting?"
"Just what I told you on the phone," she said with a resigned expression. "If she doesn't get into any more trouble, it'll be expunged from her record. If she does it again, though..." She trailed off.
"You're worried about this," he started.
Kim turned away. "It's not the first time, which is the problem," she confessed. "She admitted to stealing the bracelet last year, but this time, she said she was buying a bunch of stuff at the drugstore and couldn't hold it all, so she tucked the lipstick in her pocket. She paid for everything else, and when you see the video, it seems to be an honest mistake, but..."
"But you're not sure."
When Kim didn't answer, Steve shook his head. "She's not on her way to being profiled on America's Most Wanted. She made a mistake. And she's always had a good heart."
"That doesn't mean she's telling the truth now."
"And it doesn't mean she lied, either."
"So you believe her?" Her expression was a mixture of hope and skepticism.
He sifted through his feelings about the incident, as he had a dozen times since Kim had first told him. "Yeah," he said. "I believe her."
"Why?"
"Because she's a good kid."
"How do you know?" she demanded. For the first time, she sounded angry. "The last time you spent any time with her, she was finishing middle school." She turned away from him then, crossing her arms as she gazed out the window. Her voice was bitter when she went on. "You could have come back, you know. You could have taught in New York again.
You didn't have to travel around the country, you didn't have to move here... you could have stayed part of their lives."
Her words stung him, and he knew she was right. But it hadn't been that simple, for reasons they both understood, though neither would acknowledge them.
The charged silence passed when Steve eventually cleared his throat. "I was just trying to say that Ronnie knows right from wrong. As much as she asserts her independence, I still believe she's the same person she always was. In the ways that really matter, she hasn't changed."
Before Kim could figure out how or if she should respond to his comment, Jonah burst through the front door, his cheeks flushed.
"Dad! I found a really cool workshop! C'mon! I want to show you!"
Kim raised an eyebrow.
"It's out back," Steve said. "Do you want to see it?"
"It's awesome, Mom!"
Kim turned from Steve to Jonah and back again. "No, that's okay," she said. "That sounds like more of a father and son thing. And besides, I should really be going."
"Already?" Jonah asked.
Steve knew how hard this was going to be for Kim, and he answered for her. "Your mom has a long drive back. And besides, I wanted to take you to the carnival tonight. Could we do that instead?"
Steve watched Jonah's shoulders sink a fraction.
"I guess that's okay," he said.
After Jonah said good-bye to his mom--with Ronnie still nowhere in sight and, according to Kim, unlikely to return soon--Steve and Jonah strolled over to the workshop, a leaning, tin-roofed outbuilding that had come with the property.
For the last three months, Steve had spent most afternoons here, surrounded by assorted junk and small sheets of stained glass that Jonah was now exploring. In the center of the workshop was a large worktable with the beginnings of a stained-glass window, but Jonah seemed far more interested in the weird taxidermy pieces perched on the shelves, the previous owner's specialty. It was hard not to be mesmerized by the half-squirrel/half-bass creature or the opossum's head grafted onto the body of a chicken.