The Last Song

His words seared her, his forgiveness more than she could bear. "I'm so sorry, Daddy..."

"Look at me," he said, but she couldn't. She could think only about his need for the piano, something she'd taken away from him. Because she'd thought only about herself. Because she'd wanted to hurt him. Because she hadn't cared.

"Look at me," he said again. His voice was soft but insistent. Reluctantly, she raised her head.

"I had the most wonderful summer of my life," he whispered. "I got to watch you save the turtles, and I had the chance to see you fall in love, even if it doesn't last forever. And most of all, I got to know you as a young woman, not a little girl, for the first time ever. And I can't tell you how much joy those things gave to me. That's what got me through the summer."

She knew his words were sincere, which only made her feel worse. She was about to say something when Jonah burst through the door.

"Look who I found," he said, motioning with the can of Sprite.

Ronnie looked up to see her mom standing behind Jonah.

"Hey, sweetie," she said.

Ronnie turned to her dad.

He shrugged. "I had to call her," he explained.

"Are you doing okay?" her mom asked.

"I'm okay, Kim," her dad answered.

Her mom took that as an invitation to step into the room. "I think we all need to talk," she announced.

The following morning, Ronnie had made up her mind and was waiting in her room when her mom walked in.

"Have you finished packing yet?"

She fixed her mom with a calm but determined stare. "I'm not going back to New York with you."

Kim put her hands on her hips. "I thought we discussed this."

"No," Ronnie said evenly. "You discussed this. But I'm not coming with you."

Her mom ignored her comment. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you're coming home."

"I'm not going back to New York." Ronnie crossed her arms but didn't raise her voice.

"Ronnie..."

She shook her head, knowing she'd never been more serious in her life. "I'm staying and I'm not going to discuss it. I'm eighteen now and you can't force me to go back with you. I'm an adult and I can do what I want."

As she absorbed Ronnie's words, her mom shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other.

"This...," she finally said, motioning toward the living room, trying to sound reasonable. "This isn't your responsibility."

Ronnie took a step toward her. "No? Then whose is it? Who's going to take care of him?"

"Your dad and I have talked about that..."

"Oh, you mean about Pastor Harris?" Ronnie demanded. "Oh yeah, like he can take care of dad if he collapses or starts vomiting blood again. Pastor Harris can't physically do it."

"Ronnie...," her mother began again.

Ronnie threw up her hands, her frustration and resolve growing. "Just because you're still mad at him doesn't mean that I have to be mad at him, okay? I know what he did and I'm sorry he hurt you, but this is about my dad. He's sick and he needs my help, and I'm going to be here for him. I don't care that he had an affair, I don't care that he left us. But I do care about him."

For the first time, her mom seemed genuinely taken aback. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. "What exactly did your dad tell you?"

Ronnie was about to protest that it didn't matter, but something stopped her. Her mother's expression was so strange, almost... guilty. As if... as if...

She stared at her mom, recognition dawning even as she spoke. "It wasn't Dad who had the affair, was it?" she said slowly. "It was you."

Her mother's posture didn't change, but she looked stricken. The realization hit Ronnie with an almost physical force.

Her mom had the affair, not her dad. And...

The room suddenly felt suffocating as the implications became clear. "That's why he left, isn't it? Because he found out. But you let me believe all along that it was all his fault, that he walked out for no good reason. You pretended it was him, when it was you all along. How could you do that?" Ronnie could barely breathe.

Her mom seemed unable to speak, and Ronnie found herself wondering whether she'd ever known her mom at all.

"Was it with Brian?" she suddenly demanded. "Were you cheating on Dad with Brian?"

Her mom stayed silent, and again Ronnie knew she was right.

Her mom had let her believe it was her dad who had left for no reason at all. And I didn't talk to him for three years because of it...

"You know what?" Ronnie snapped. "I don't care. I don't care what happened between the two of you, I don't care what happened in the past. But I'm not leaving my dad, and you can't make me--"

"Who's not leaving?" Jonah interrupted. He'd just walked into the room, holding a glass of milk, and he turned from their mom to her. She could hear the panic in his voice.

"Are you staying here?" he asked.

It took a moment for Ronnie to answer as she wrestled her anger under control. "Yeah," she said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. "I'm staying."

He put his glass of milk on the dresser. "Then I'm staying, too," he announced.

Her mom looked suddenly helpless, and though Ronnie could still feel the sharp edge of her anger, there was no way she was going to let Jonah watch his father die. She crossed the room and squatted down.

"I know you want to stay, but you can't," she said gently.

"Why not? You're staying."

"But I don't have school."

"So what? I can go to school here. Dad and I talked about it."

Their mom moved toward them. "Jonah..."

Jonah suddenly backed away, and she could hear the panic rising in his voice as he realized he was outnumbered. "I don't care about school! That's not fair! I want to stay here!"