The Last Song(124)

“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.

She didn’t believe in miracles. She knew that some people did, but she couldn’t force herself to think that her dad was somehow going to make it. Not after what she’d seen, not after the way the doctor had explained it. The cancer, she’d learned, had metastasized from his stomach to his pancreas and lungs, and holding out hope seemed… dangerous. She couldn’t imagine having to come to terms a second time with what was happening to him. It was hard enough already, especially late at night when the house was quiet and she was alone with her thoughts.

Instead she prayed for the strength she needed to help her dad; she prayed for the ability to stay positive in his presence, instead of crying every time she saw him. She knew he needed her laughter and he needed the daughter she’d recently become.

The first thing she did after bringing him home from the hospital was to take him to see the stained-glass window. She watched as he slowly approached the table, his eyes taking in everything, his expression one of shocked disbelief. She knew then that there had been moments when he’d wondered whether he would live long enough to see it through. More than anything, she wished Jonah had been there with them, and she knew her dad was thinking the same thing. It had been their project, the way they’d spent their summer. He missed Jonah terribly, he missed him more than anything, and though he turned away so she couldn’t see his face, she knew there were tears in his eyes as he made his way back to the house.

He called Jonah as soon as he got back inside. From the living room, Ronnie could hear her dad’s assurances that he was feeling better, and though Jonah would likely misinterpret that, she knew her dad had done the right thing. He wanted Jonah to remember the happiness of the summer, not dwell on what was coming next.

That night, as he sat on the couch, he opened the Bible and began to read. Ronnie now understood his reasons. She took a seat beside him and asked the question she’d been wondering about since she’d examined the book herself.

“Do you have a favorite passage?” she asked.

“Many,” he said. “I’ve always enjoyed the Psalms. And I always learn a lot from the letters of Paul.”

“But you don’t underline anything,” she said. When he raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. “I looked through it while you were gone and I didn’t see anything.”

He thought about his answer. “If I tried to underline something important, I’d probably end up underlining almost everything. I’ve read it so many times and I always learn something new.”

She studied him carefully. “I don’t remember you reading the Bible before…”

“That’s because you were young. I kept this Bible by my bed, and I’d read through parts of it once or twice a week. Ask your mom. She’ll tell you.”

“Have you read anything lately that you’d like to share?”

“Do you want me to?”

After she nodded, it took him only a minute to find the passage he wanted.

“It’s Galatians 5:22,” he said, pressing the Bible flat in his lap. He cleared his throat before he started. “But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives, he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”

She watched him as he read the verse, remembering how she’d acted when she’d first arrived and how he’d responded to her anger. She remembered the times he’d refused to argue with her mom, even when she’d tried to provoke him. She’d seen that as weakness and often wished her father were different. But all at once, she knew she’d been wrong about everything.