Steve wondered if Jonah was serious. The house was anything but awesome. The bungalow was easily the oldest property on Wrightsville Beach and sandwiched between two massive homes that had gone up within the last ten years, making it seem even more diminutive. The paint was peeling, the roof was missing numerous shingles, and the porch was rotting; it wouldn’t surprise him if the next decent storm blew it over, which would no doubt please the neighbors. Since he’d moved in, neither family had ever spoken to him.

“You think so?” he said.

“Hello? It’s right on the beach. What else could you want?” He motioned toward the ocean. “Can I go check it out?”

“Sure. But be careful. And stay behind the house. Don’t wander off.”

“Deal.”

Steve watched him jog off before turning to see Kim approaching. Ronnie had stepped out of the car as well but was still lingering near it.

“Hi, Kim,” he said.

“Steve.” She leaned in to give him a brief hug. “You doing okay?” she asked. “You look thin.”

“I’m okay.”

Behind her, Steve noticed Ronnie slowly making her way toward them. He was struck by how much she’d changed since the last photo Kim had e-mailed. Gone was the all-American girl he remembered, and in her place was a young woman with a purple streak in her long brown hair, black fingernail polish, and dark clothing. Despite the obvious signs of teenage rebellion, he thought again how much she resembled her mother. Good thing, too. She was, he thought, as lovely as ever.

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.”