"What?"
"Yep. I didn't find out until after she turned eighteen, so don't think I wouldn't have stopped her if I could have. I gave her hell, and she pitched a fit. Nothing I can do now."
"Damn, she's a difficult one. Stubborn as hell," He muttered, glancing down at his cigarette. "Of course you can be, too."
"Difference is, Dave, I own up to it. Dalia never will." I looked around, watching a sea gull skitter across the coast, stopping dead in it's tracks when a small girl caught sight of it and decided she wanted to play. It took flight soon after, the child giving up and returning to the half-built sandcastle she was working on. Looking past her you could see the gray storm clouds forming, the ones that rolled in every summer afternoon and blotted out the sun for a few hours. The beach-goers maybe had an hour and a half, tops before their sun-filled day would be ruined.
"You girls both got that from your dad, that's for sure."
I dug my fingers into the sand, staring at the ocean. The rough grains suck to my fingers and palms, working their way under my manicured nails. I pulled my hands up immediately, stopping short of wiping them on my skirt. With a sigh I stood and walked towards the water's edge, pausing momentarily as the cool water came up and circled my feet. I bent down low enough to rinse the sand away from my hands, removing the discomfort. That time I did pat my wet hands on the faded denim, the sticky feeling of the salt water remained on them though.
"Is Delia coming back for the summer?" I asked, walking past Dave and back towards the parking lot that sat behind the beach, where we had left my car, and his bike.
"Not as far as I know. I think she's staying in Michigan for the summer," He replied. I watched as he flicked his spent cigarette to the side. "I don't see why. She could spend her summer at the beach, but she prefers to stay there instead."
I shrugged." I didn't come home the past few years, did I?"
"No, Cam, you didn't." Dave paused, putting a hand on my shoulder as we climbed the steps to the pavement. "But you never called this home, either."
I smiled. He was right. I'd never acknowledged Daytona and Holly Hill as my home before that day. My best guess why was that I was still attached to Louisiana up until that point, and I was unable to let it go. But that summer, I had. The past was the past. I had acknowledged that. Dave was my family, his house was my home.
"Should I follow you to the Bat Cave, sir?" I nudged him as we reached our vehicles.
"Yeah. Diana's there, you know. She can't wait to see you." He stated as he climbed on
"Yep. I didn't find out until after she turned eighteen, so don't think I wouldn't have stopped her if I could have. I gave her hell, and she pitched a fit. Nothing I can do now."
"Damn, she's a difficult one. Stubborn as hell," He muttered, glancing down at his cigarette. "Of course you can be, too."
"Difference is, Dave, I own up to it. Dalia never will." I looked around, watching a sea gull skitter across the coast, stopping dead in it's tracks when a small girl caught sight of it and decided she wanted to play. It took flight soon after, the child giving up and returning to the half-built sandcastle she was working on. Looking past her you could see the gray storm clouds forming, the ones that rolled in every summer afternoon and blotted out the sun for a few hours. The beach-goers maybe had an hour and a half, tops before their sun-filled day would be ruined.
"You girls both got that from your dad, that's for sure."
I dug my fingers into the sand, staring at the ocean. The rough grains suck to my fingers and palms, working their way under my manicured nails. I pulled my hands up immediately, stopping short of wiping them on my skirt. With a sigh I stood and walked towards the water's edge, pausing momentarily as the cool water came up and circled my feet. I bent down low enough to rinse the sand away from my hands, removing the discomfort. That time I did pat my wet hands on the faded denim, the sticky feeling of the salt water remained on them though.
"Is Delia coming back for the summer?" I asked, walking past Dave and back towards the parking lot that sat behind the beach, where we had left my car, and his bike.
"Not as far as I know. I think she's staying in Michigan for the summer," He replied. I watched as he flicked his spent cigarette to the side. "I don't see why. She could spend her summer at the beach, but she prefers to stay there instead."
I shrugged." I didn't come home the past few years, did I?"
"No, Cam, you didn't." Dave paused, putting a hand on my shoulder as we climbed the steps to the pavement. "But you never called this home, either."
I smiled. He was right. I'd never acknowledged Daytona and Holly Hill as my home before that day. My best guess why was that I was still attached to Louisiana up until that point, and I was unable to let it go. But that summer, I had. The past was the past. I had acknowledged that. Dave was my family, his house was my home.
"Should I follow you to the Bat Cave, sir?" I nudged him as we reached our vehicles.
"Yeah. Diana's there, you know. She can't wait to see you." He stated as he climbed on
