Nicholas Sparks - The Last Song

“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!”

He wanted to surprise her. That had been his plan, anyway.

He’d played a concert in Albany; his next performance was scheduled in Richmond two days later. Normally, he never went home while on tour; it was easier to maintain a kind of rhythm as he traveled from city to city. But because he had a bit of extra time and hadn’t seen his family in two weeks, he caught a train and arrived in the city as the lunch crowd came streaming out of their office towers in search of something to eat.

It was pure coincidence that he saw her at all. Even now, the odds seemed so remote as to be impossible. It was a city of millions and he was near Penn Station, and he was walking past a restaurant that was already nearly full.

His first thought, when he saw her, was that the woman looked exactly like his wife. She was seated at a small table wedged against the wall, across from a gray-haired man who appeared to be a few years older than her. She was dressed in a black skirt and a red silk blouse and was running a finger over the rim of her wineglass. He captured all of that and did a quick double take. It actually was Kim, he realized, and she was dining with a man that he’d never seen before. Through the window, he watched as she laughed, and with a sinking certainty, he knew he’d seen that laugh before. He remembered it from years ago, back when things were better between them. When she rose from the table, he watched as the man stood and placed his hand on the small of her back. The man’s touch was tender, almost familiar, as though he’d done it hundreds of times before. She probably liked the way he touched her, Steve thought as he watched the stranger kiss his wife on the lips.

He wasn’t sure what to do, but thinking back, he couldn’t remember feeling much of anything. He knew they’d been distant with each other, he knew they’d been arguing too much, and he supposed that most men would have gone into the restaurant and confronted the two of them. Perhaps even made a scene. But he wasn’t like most men. So he shifted the small carry bag he’d packed the night before to his other hand, turned around, and headed back in the direction of Penn Station.

He caught a train two hours later and arrived in Richmond late that evening. As always, he picked up the phone to call his wife, and she answered on the second ring. He could hear the television in the background as she said hello.

“You finally made it, huh?” she asked. “I was wondering when you were going to call.”

As he sat on the bed, he pictured the stranger’s hand on the small of her back. “I just got in,” he said.

“Anything exciting happen?”

He was in a budget hotel, and the comforter was fraying slightly at the edges. There was an air conditioner beneath the window, and it rattled, making the curtains move. He could see dust coating the top of the television set.

“No,” he said. “Nothing exciting at all.”

In the hospital room, he remembered those images with a clarity that surprised him. He supposed it was because he knew Kim would be arriving soon, along with Ronnie and Jonah.

Ronnie had called him earlier to tell him that she wasn’t going back to New York. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He remembered his dad’s shrunken, emaciated figure toward the end, and he didn’t want his daughter to see him that way. But her mind was made up, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to change it. But it scared him.

Everything about this scared him.

He’d been praying regularly in the last couple of weeks. Or, at least, that’s how Pastor Harris had once described it. He didn’t clasp his hands or bow his head; he didn’t ask to be healed. He did, however, share with God the concerns he had regarding his children.

He supposed he wasn’t much different from most parents in his worries for them. They were still young, they both had long lives ahead of them, and he wondered what would become of them. Nothing fancy: He would ask God whether He thought they would be happy, or continue to live in New York, or whether they would ever get married and have children. The basics, nothing more, but it was then, at that moment, that he finally understood what Pastor Harris had meant when he said he walked and talked with God.

Unlike Pastor Harris, however, he’d yet to hear the answers in his heart or experience God’s presence in his life, and he knew he didn’t have much time.

He glanced at the clock. Kim’s plane was leaving in less than three hours. She would leave from the hospital to go straight to the airport with Jonah sitting beside her, and the realization was terrifying.

In just a little while, he would hold his son for the last time; today, he would say good-bye.

Jonah was in tears as soon as he rushed into the room, racing straight for the bed. Steve had just enough time to open his arms before Jonah fell into them. His birdlike shoulders were shuddering, and Steve felt his own heart breaking. He concentrated on how his son felt against him, trying to memorize the sensation.

Steve loved his children more than life itself, but more than that, he knew that Jonah needed him, and once more, he was struck by the realization that he was failing as a father.

Jonah continued to cry inconsolably. Steve held him close, wanting never to let go. Ronnie and Kim stood in the doorway, keeping their distance.

“They’re trying to send me home, Daddy,” Jonah whimpered. “I told them I could stay with you, but they’re not listening. I’ll be good, Daddy. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll go to bed when you tell me to and I’ll clean my room and I won’t eat cookies when I’m not supposed to. Tell them I can stay. I promise to be good.”

“I know you’d be good,” Steve murmured. “You’ve always been good.”

“Then tell her, Dad! Tell her you want me to stay! Please! Just tell her!”

“I do want you to stay,” he said, hurting for himself and for his son. “I want that more than anything, but your mom needs you, too. She misses you.”

If Jonah had held out any hope, it ended then and there, and he began to cry again.

“But I’m never going to see you again… and it’s not fair! It’s just not fair!”

Steve tried to talk through the tightness in his throat. “Hey…,” he said. “I want you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Jonah forced himself to look up. Though he tried not to, Steve knew he was beginning to choke on his words. It took everything he had not to break down in front of his son.

“I want you to know that you’re the best son a dad could hope to have. I’ve always been so proud of you, and I know you’re going to grow up and do wonderful things. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. And I’m going to miss you so much.”

From the corner of his eye, Steve could see Ronnie and Kim, tears running down their faces.

“I’m going to miss you, too. But I’m always going to watch over you, okay? I promise. Do you remember the window we made together?”

Jonah nodded, his little jaw quivering.

“I call it God Light, because it reminds me of heaven. Every time the light shines through the window we built or any window at all, you’ll know I’m right there with you, okay? That’s going to be me. I’ll be the light in the window.”

Jonah nodded, not even bothering to wipe away his tears. Steve continued to hold his son, wishing with all his heart that he could make things better.

Ronnie went outside with her mom and Jonah to see them off, and to speak with her mom alone before she left, asking her to do something for her as soon as she got back to New York. Then she returned to the hospital and sat with her dad, waiting until he fell asleep. For a long time he remained silent, staring out the window. She held his hand, and they sat together without speaking, both of them watching the clouds drifting slowly beyond the glass.

She wanted to stretch her legs and get some fresh air; her dad’s good-bye to Jonah had left her drained and shaky. She didn’t want to picture her brother on the plane or entering their apartment; she didn’t want to think about whether he was still crying.

Outside, she walked along the sidewalk in front of the hospital, her mind wandering. She was almost past him when she heard him clear his throat. He was seated on a bench; despite the heat, he wore the same kind of long-sleeved shirt he always did.

“Hi, Ronnie,” Pastor Harris said.

“Oh… hi.”

“I was hoping to visit with your father.”

“He’s sleeping,” she said. “But you can go up there if you want.”

He tapped his cane, buying time. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, Ronnie.”

She nodded, finding it hard to concentrate. Even this simple conversation seemed impossibly arduous.

Somehow, she got the sense he felt the same way.

“Would you pray with me?” His blue eyes held a plea. “I like to pray before I see your dad. It… helps me.”

Her surprise gave way to an unexpected sense of relief.

“I’d like that very much,” she answered.

She began to pray regularly after that, and she found that Pastor Harris was right.

Not that she believed her dad would be cured. She’d spoken to the doctor and seen the scans, and after their conversation, she’d left the hospital and gone to the beach and cried for an hour while her tears dried in the wind.