It looks like Jonahs having fun, he said.
Kim took a step toward the window. Hes been excited about coming for weeks. She hesitated. Hes missed you.
Ive missed him.
I know, she said. She took a drink of her tea before glancing around the kitchen. So this is the place, huh? Its got character.
By character, I assume youve noticed the leaky roof and lack of air-conditioning.
Kim flashed a brief smile, caught.
I know its not much. But its 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 theyre ready to sell.
So whats it like living back home? I mean, your parents used to live, what? Three blocks from here?
Seven, actually. Close. Its all right. He shrugged.
Its 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 whens the big day? he asked, changing the subject. For you and Brian?
Steve about that.
Its okay, he said, raising a hand. Im 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 doesnt pretend to be someone he isnt. Youd like him.
Im 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. Hows she really doing?
I dont know. She sighed. And I dont think she does, either. Shes in this dark, moody phase. She ignores her curfew, and half the time I cant 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 Kims fears, Ronnie was still Ronnie.
I guess, she conceded, before shaking her head. No, I know youre right. Its just been so difficult with her lately. There are times shes 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 shes barely passing any of her classes. And I havent 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. Its not funny.
Its kind of funny.
You havent had to deal with her these last three years.
He paused, chastened. Youre right. Im 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 doesnt get into any more trouble, itll be expunged from her record. If she does it again, though She trailed off.
Youre worried about this, he started.
Kim turned away. Its 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 couldnt 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 youre not sure.
When Kim didnt answer, Steve shook his head. Shes not on her way to being profiled on Americas Most Wanted. She made a mistake. And shes always had a good heart.
That doesnt mean shes telling the truth now.
And it doesnt 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 shes 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 didnt have to travel around the country, you didnt have to move here you could have stayed part of their lives.
Her words stung him, and he knew she was right. But it hadnt 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 shes the same person she always was. In the ways that really matter, she hasnt 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! Cmon! I want to show you!
Kim raised an eyebrow.
Its out back, Steve said. Do you want to see it?
Its awesome, Mom!
Kim turned from Steve to Jonah and back again. No, thats 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 Jonahs shoulders sink a fraction.
I guess thats okay, he said.
After Jonah said good-bye to his momwith Ronnie still nowhere in sight and, according to Kim, unlikely to return soonSteve 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 owners specialty. It was hard not to be mesmerized by the half-squirrel/half-bass creature or the opossums head grafted onto the body of a chicken.
What is this stuff? Jonah asked.
Its supposed to be art.
I thought art was like paintings and stuff.
It is. But sometimes art is other things, too.
Jonah wrinkled his nose, staring at the half-rabbit/half-snake. It doesnt look like art.
When Steve smiled, Jonah motioned to the stained-glass window on the worktable. Was this his, too? he asked.
Actually, thats mine. Im making it for the church down the street. It burned last year, and the original window was destroyed in the fire.
I didnt know you could make windows.
Believe it or not, the artist who used to live here taught me how.
The guy who did the animals?
The same one.
And you knew him?
Steve joined his son at the table. When I was a kid, Id sneak over here when I was supposed to be in Bible study. He made the stained-glass windows for most of the churches around here. See the picture on the wall? Steve pointed to a small photograph of the Risen Christ tacked to one of the shelves, easy to miss in the chaos. Hopefully, itll look just like that when its finished.
Awesome, Jonah said, and Steve smiled. It was obviously Jonahs new favorite word, and he wondered how many times hed hear it this summer.
Do you want to help?
Can I?
I was counting on it. Steve gave him a gentle nudge. I need a good assistant.
Is it hard?
I was your age when I started, so Im sure youll be able to handle it.
Jonah gingerly picked up a piece of the glass and examined it, holding it up to the light, his expression serious. Im pretty sure I can handle it, too.
Steve smiled. Are you still going to church? he asked.
Yeah. But its not the same one we went to. Its the one where Brian likes to go. And Ronnie doesnt always come with us. She locks herself in her room and refuses to come out, but as soon as we leave, she goes over to Starbucks to hang out with her friends. It makes Mom furious.
That happens when kids become teenagers. They test their parents.
Jonah put the glass back on the table. I wont, he said. Im always going to be good. But I dont like the new church very much. Its boring. So I might not go to that one.
Fair enough. He paused. I hear youre not playing soccer this fall.
Im not very good at it.
So what? Its fun, right?
Not when other kids make fun of you.
They make fun of you?
Its okay. It doesnt bother me.
Ah, Steve said.
Jonah shuffled his feet, something obviously on his mind. Ronnie didnt read any of the letters you sent her, Dad. And she wont play the piano anymore, either.
I know, Steve answered.
Mom says its because she has PMS.
Steve almost choked but composed himself quickly. Do you even know what that means?
Jonah pushed his glasses up. Im not a little kid anymore. It means pissed-at-men syndrome.
Steve laughed, ruffling Jonahs hair. How about we go find your sister? I think I saw her heading toward the festival.
Can we ride the Ferris wheel?
Whatever you want.
Awesome.
3Ronnie
The fair was crowded. Or rather, Ronnie corrected herself, the Wrightsville Beach Seafood Festival was crowded. As she paid for a soda from one of the concession stands, she could see cars parked bumper to bumper along both roads leading to the pier and even noted a few enterprising teenagers renting out their driveways near the action.
So far, though, the action was boring. She supposed shed been hoping that the Ferris wheel was a permanent fixture and that the pier offered shops and stores like the boardwalk in Atlantic City. In other words, she hoped it would be the kind of place she could see herself hanging out in the summer. No such luck. The festival was temporarily located in the parking lot at the head of the pier, and it mostly resembled a small county fair. The rickety rides were part of a traveling carnival, and the parking lot was lined with overpriced game booths and greasy food concessions. The whole place was kind of gross.
Not that anyone else seemed to share her opinion. The place was packed. Old and young, families, groups of middle-schoolers ogling one another. No matter which way she went, she always seemed to be fighting against the tide of bodies. Sweaty bodies. Big, sweaty bodies, two of whom were squashing her between them as the crowd came to an inexplicable stop. No doubt theyd had both the fried hot dog and fried Snickers bar shed seen at the concession stand. She wrinkled her nose. So gross.
Spying an opening, she slipped away from the rides and carnival game booths and headed toward the pier. Fortunately, the crowd continued to thin as she moved down the pier, past booths offering homemade crafts for sale. Nothing she could ever imagine herself buyingwho on earth would want a gnome constructed entirely from seashells? But obviously someone was buying the stuff or the booths wouldnt exist.
Distracted, she bumped into a table manned by an elderly woman seated on a folding chair.
Wearing a shirt emblazoned with the logo SPCA, she had white hair and an open, cheerful facethe type of grandmother who probably spent all day baking cookies before Christmas Eve, Ronnie guessed. On the table in front of her were pamphlets and a donation jar, along with a large cardboard box. Inside the box were four gray puppies, one of which hopped up on its hind legs to peer over the side at her.
Hi, little guy, she said.
The elderly woman smiled. Do you want to hold him? Hes the fun one. I call him Seinfeld.
The puppy gave a high-pitched whine.
No, thats okay. He was cute, though. Really cute, even if she didnt think the name suited him. And she did sort of want to hold him, but she knew she wouldnt want to put him down if she did. She was a sucker for animals in general, especially abandoned ones. Like these little guys. Theyre going to be okay, right? Youre not going to have them put to sleep, are you?
Theyll be fine, the woman answered. Thats why we set up the table. So people would adopt them. Last year, we found homes for over thirty animals, and these four have already been claimed. Im just waiting for the new owners to pick them up on their way out. But there are more at the shelter if youre interested.
Im only visiting, Ronnie answered, just as a roar erupted from the beach. She craned her neck, trying to see. Whats going on? A concert?
The woman shook her head. Beach volleyball. Theyve been playing for hourssome kind of tournament. You should go watch. Ive heard the cheering all day, so the games must be pretty exciting.
Ronnie thought about it, figuring, Why not? It couldnt be any worse than what was happening up here. She threw a couple of dollars into the donation jar before heading toward the steps.
The sun was descending, giving the ocean a sheen like liquid gold. On the beach, a few remaining families were congregated on towels near the water, along with a couple of sand castles about to be swept away in the rising tide. Terns darted in and out, hunting for crabs.
It didnt take long to reach the source of the action. As she inched her way to the edge of the court, she noticed that the other girls in the audience seemed fixated on the two players on the right. No surprise there. The two guysher age? older?were the kind that her friend Kayla routinely described as eye candy. Though neither of them was exactly Ronnies type, it was impossible not to admire their lanky, muscular physiques and the fluid way they moved through the sand.
Especially the taller one, with dark brown hair and the macramé bracelet on his wrist. Kayla would have definitely zeroed in on himshe always went for the tall onesin the same way the bikini-clad blonde across the court was obviously zeroing in on him. Ronnie had noticed the blonde and her friend right away. They were both thin and pretty, with blindingly white teeth, and obviously used to being the center of attention and having boys drool all over them. They held themselves apart from the crowd and cheered daintily, probably so they wouldnt mess up their hair. They might as well have been billboards proclaiming it was okay to admire them from a distance, but dont get too close. Ronnie didnt know them, but she already didnt like them.
She turned her attention back to the game just as the cute guys scored another point. And then another. And still another. She didnt know what the score was, but they were obviously the better team. And yet, as she watched, she silently began to root for the other guys. It had less to do with the fact that she always rooted for the underdogwhich she didand more to do with the fact that the winning pair reminded her of the spoiled private school types she sometimes ran into at clubs, the Upper East Side boys from Dalton and Buckley who thought they were better than everyone else simply because their dads were investment bankers. Shed seen enough of the so-called privileged crowd to recognize a member when she saw one, and shed bet her life that those two were definitely part of the popular crowd around here. Her suspicions were confirmed after the next point when the brown-haired guys partner winked at the blondes tanned, Barbie-doll friend as he got ready to serve. In this town, the pretty people clearly all knew one another.
Why wasnt she surprised by that?
The game suddenly seemed less interesting, and she turned to leave just as another serve sailed over the net. She vaguely heard someone shouting as the opposing team returned the serve, but before she had taken more than a couple of steps, she felt the spectators around her beginning to jostle one another, knocking her off balance for just an instant.
An instant too long.
She turned just in time to see one of the players rushing toward her at full speed, his head craning to catch sight of the wayward ball. She didnt have time to react before he slammed into her. She felt him grab her shoulders in a simultaneous attempt to stop his momentum and prevent her from falling. She felt her arm jerk on impact and watched almost in fascination as the lid flew off the Styrofoam cup, soda arcing through the air before drenching her face and shirt.
And then, just like that, it was over. Up close, she saw the brown-haired player staring at her, his eyes wide with shock.
Are you okay? he panted.
She could feel the soda dripping down her face and soaking through her shirt. Vaguely, she heard someone in the crowd begin to laugh. And why shouldnt someone laugh? It had been such a fantastic day already.
Im fine, she snapped.
Are you sure? the guy gasped. For what it was worth, he seemed genuinely contrite. I ran into you kind of hard.
Just let me go, she said through clenched teeth.
He hadnt seemed to realize he was still gripping her shoulders, and his hands instantly released their pressure. He took a quick step back and automatically reached for his bracelet. He rotated it almost absently. Im really sorry about that. I was going for the ball and
I know what you were doing, she said. I survived, okay?
With that, she turned away, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from here as possible. Behind her, she heard someone call out, Cmon, Will! Lets get back to the game!
But as she pushed her way through the crowd, she was conscious somehow of his continuing gaze until she vanished from sight.
Her shirt wasnt ruined, but that didnt make her feel much better. She liked this shirt, a memento from the Fall Out Boy concert that shed sneaked out to with Rick last year. Her mom had almost blown a gasket about that one, and it wasnt simply because Rick had a tattoo of a spiderweb on his neck and more piercings in his ears than Kayla did; it was because shed lied about where they were going, and she hadnt made it home until the following afternoon, since theyd ended up crashing at Ricks brothers place in Philadelphia. Her mom forbade Ronnie from seeing or even speaking to Rick ever again, a rule that Ronnie broke the very next day.
It wasnt that she loved Rick; frankly, she didnt even like him that much. But she was angry at her mom, and it felt right at the time. But when she got to Ricks place, he was already stoned and drunk again, just as hed been at the concert, and she realized that if she continued to see him, hed continue to pressure her to try whatever it was he was taking, just as hed done the night before. She spent only a few minutes at his place before heading to Union Square for the rest of the afternoon, knowing it was over between them.
She wasnt naive about drugs. Some of her friends smoked pot, a few did cocaine or ecstasy, and one even had a nasty meth habit. Everyone but her drank on the weekends. Every club and party she went to offered easy access to all of it. Still, it seemed that whenever her friends smoked or drank or popped the pills they swore made the evening worthwhile, theyd spend the rest of the night slurring their words or staggering or vomiting or losing control completely and doing something really stupid. Something usually involving a guy.
Ronnie didnt want to go there. Not after what happened to Kayla last winter. Someone
Kayla never knew whoslipped some GHB into her drink, and though she had only a vague recollection of what happened next, she was pretty sure she remembered being in a room with three guys shed met for the first time that night. When she woke the following morning, her clothes were strewn around the room. Kayla never said anything moreshe preferred to pretend it had never happened at all and regretted having told Ronnie even that muchbut it wasnt hard to connect the dots.
When she reached the pier, Ronnie set down her half-empty drink cup and dabbed furiously at her shirt with her wet napkin. It seemed to be working, but the napkin was disintegrating into tiny white flakes that resembled dandruff.
Great.
She wished the guy had rammed into someone else. She was only there for what, ten minutes? What were the odds that shed turn away at the same instant the ball came flying her way? And that shed be holding a soda in a crowd at a volleyball game she didnt even want to watch, in a place she didnt want to be? In a million years, the same thing could probably never happen again. With odds like that, she should have bought a lottery ticket.
And then there was the guy who did it. Brown-haired, brown-eyed cute guy. Up close, she realized he was way better looking than cute, especially when he got that expression of
concern. He might have been part of the popular crowd, but in the nanosecond their eyes had met, shed had the strangest sense that he was as real as they came.
Ronnie shook her head to clear her mind of such crazy thoughts. Clearly the sun was affecting her brain. Satisfied that shed done the best she could with the napkin, she picked up the cup of soda. She planned to throw the rest away, but as she spun around, she felt the cup get jammed between her and someone else. This time, nothing happened in slow motion; the soda instantly covered the front of her shirt.
She froze, staring down at her shirt in disbelief. Youve got to be kidding.
Standing before her was a girl her age holding a Slurpee, seemingly as surprised as she was.
She was dressed in black, and her stringy dark hair hung in unruly curls framing her face. Like Kayla, she had at least half a dozen piercings in each ear, highlighted with a couple of miniature skulls that dangled from her earlobes, and her dark eye shadow and eyeliner gave her an almost feral appearance. As the remains of her soda soaked through Ronnies shirt, Goth-looking chick motioned with her Slurpee toward the spreading stain.
Sucks being you, she said.
Ya think?
At least the other side matches now.
Oh, I get it. Youre trying to be funny.
Witty is more like it.
Then you might have said something like Maybe you should stick with sippy-cups.
Goth-chick laughed, a surprisingly girlish sound. Youre not from around here, are you?
No, Im from New York. Im here visiting my dad.
For the weekend?
No. For the summer.
It does suck being you.
This time, it was Ronnies turn to laugh. Im Ronnie. Its short for Veronica.
Call me Blaze.
Blaze?
My real names Galadriel. Its from Lord of the Rings. My moms weird like that.
At least she didnt name you Gollum.
Or Ronnie. With a tilt of her head, she motioned over her shoulder. If you want something dry, there are some Nemo shirts in the booth over there.
Nemo?
Yeah, Nemo. From the movie? Orange-and-white fish, gimpy flipper? Gets stuck in a fish tank and his dad goes to find him?
I dont want a Nemo shirt, okay?
Nemos cool.
Maybe if youre six, Ronnie retorted.
Suit yourself.
Before Ronnie could respond, she spied three guys pushing their way through a parting mob. They stood out from the beach crowd with their torn shorts and tattoos, bare chests showing beneath heavy leather jackets. One had a pierced eyebrow and was carrying an old-fashioned boom box; another had a bleached Mohawk and arms completely covered with tattoos.
The third, like Blaze, had long black hair offset by milky white skin. Ronnie turned instinctively to Blaze, only to realize that Blaze was gone. In her place stood Jonah.
What did you spill on your shirt? he asked. Youre all wet and sticky.
Ronnie searched for Blaze, wondering where shed gone. And why. Just go away, okay?
I cant. Dads looking for you. I think he wants you to come home.
Where is he?
He stopped to go to the bathroom, but he should be here any minute.
Tell him you didnt see me.
Jonah thought about it. Five bucks.
What?
Gimme five bucks and Ill forget you were here.
Are you serious?
You dont have much time, he said. Now its ten bucks.
Over Jonahs head, she spotted her dad searching the crowd around him. Instinctively she ducked, knowing there was no way she could sneak past him. She glared at her brother, the blackmailer, whod obviously realized it as well. He was cute and she loved him and she respected his blackmailing abilities, but still, he was her little brother. In a perfect world, he would be on her side. But was he? Of course not.
I hate you, you know, she said.
Yeah, I hate you, too. But its still gonna cost you ten bucks.
How about five?
You missed your chance. But your secret will be safe with me.
Her dad still hadnt seen them, but he was getting closer.
Fine, she hissed, digging through her pockets. She passed over a crumpled bill and Jonah pocketed the money. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her father moving in her direction, his head still going from side to side, and she ducked around the booth. Surprising her, Blaze was leaning against the side of the booth, smoking a cigarette.
She smirked. Problems with your dad?
How do I get out of here?
Thats up to you. Blaze shrugged. But he knows what shirt youre wearing.
An hour later, Ronnie was sitting beside Blaze on one of the benches near the end of the pier, still bored, but not quite as bored as shed been before. Blaze turned out to be a good listener, with a quirky sense of humorand best of all, she seemed to love New York as much as Ronnie did, even though shed never been there. She asked questions about the basics: Times Square and the Empire State Building and the Statue of Libertytourist traps that Ronnie tried to avoid at all costs. But Ronnie humored her before describing the real New York: the clubs in Chelsea, the music scene in Brooklyn, and the street vendors in Chinatown, where it was possible to buy bootlegged recordings or fake Prada purses or pretty much anything else for pennies on the dollar.
Talking about those places made her absolutely long to be back home instead of here.
Anywhere but here.
I wouldnt have wanted to come here either, Blaze agreed. Trust me. Its boring.
How long have you lived here?
Just my whole life. But at least Im dressed okay.
Ronnie had bought the stupid Nemo shirt, knowing she looked ridiculous. The only size the booth had in stock was an extralarge, and the thing practically reached her knees. Its only redeeming feature was that once she donned it, shed been able to slip unseen past her father.
Blaze had been right about that.