Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Two

The old car smelled musty, almost like it had been left with the windows rolled down for a long time and the sea air had taken its toll on the brown fabric seats. If anything, the aroma matched the battered appearance of the outside. Paint spots had worn away from sun exposure, giving the yellow vehicle the look of peeling skin. A few good scratches marked up the sides, and there was a chip in the windshield on the bottom, passenger section. A tree shaped air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. It was this final item that I stared at, watching the piece of cardboard swing ever so slightly as we traveled down the road. The silence between us was so thick I felt like I could reach out and touch it.

Outside, the coast went by, beautiful and foreboding at the same time. Everything was so incredibly green, unlike anything I'd seen at home in the desert. There was something to be said for having all that water right here to liven things up.

"So," Dad finally said, shattering the quiet surrounding us. "How was your flight?"

"It was good," I answered again, having already told him at the airport. "Long."

"Quite a way from Arizona." Pursing his lips, he fell silent. It was painfully obvious we didn't know what to say to each other. Getting down to business would be best for both parties.

"I was thinking we could spread Mom's ashes tomorrow morning. Does that work for you?"

"Yeah." He nodded, tapping his fingers on the wheel, as he appeared to ponder. "I have a meeting tomorrow night with the crew, but I'm free for the majority of the day. I cleared my schedule to be with you." Glancing at me, he smiled his old, familiar grin, the one that made the skin around his eyes and forehead wrinkle massively, and his dimples appear suddenly. "I know it's not the best of reasons for you to visit, but I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks." Truth be told, I wasn't all that sure if I was happy to see him or not. He'd always been so preoccupied with the Treasure Pit, I was surprised it hadn't surfaced in the conversation yet. Then again, that was most likely what his meeting with the crew was about. "I'm glad we can honor Mom's last wishes."

Opening his mouth, he sat there gaping for a second before finally closing it, apparently deciding against whatever he'd been about to say. After a few minutes, he took another breath, ready to try again. "I don't have a very big house," he started," but there's a sleeper sofa in my office. I was thinking I could stay in there and you could have the bed."

"I'm not taking your bed." I laughed, certain he hadn't said what he wanted to before. "It's your room. I don't mind sleeping in the office."

"Are you sure?" He sounded so hesitant, like he was afraid for me to see what was in there. "All of my work stuff is stacked around."

"Isn't that what an office is for?"

"Yes, it's just—well—I know you don't approve of my work at the pit. I don't want you to have to stare it in the face the whole time you're here." He shrugged, his face somewhat red, and it occurred to me that he was embarrassed to talk about what he did.

"Dad," I said softly, my annoyance instantly diminishing. "I may not agree with how you spend your time, but it is your time. The Treasure Pit is part of who you are. I came out here expecting you to talk my ear off about it. You don't need to feel badly for being yourself." Surprisingly, I meant every word of it. Mom and I may have thought he was a fool at times, and I certainly had my share of resentful feelings, but he was still my dad. If I was going to believe anyone could do whatever they put their mind to, he was going to be included in that, no matter how awkward I felt about it.

"Really?" The amount of surprise in his voice almost hurt my feelings. "I thought you would have shared your mom's opinion on the matter."

"We didn't talk about it very much."