Fins

by Ashley L. Knight

  FINS

  Ashley Knight

  Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press

  © 2012 / Ashley Knight

  Copy-edited by: Darren Pulsford

  Cover Design By: David Dodd

  Background Image provided by: Ken Koeberlein

  LICENSE NOTES

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  THE FINS TRILOGY

  Coming Soon - Fathom:

  There are many types of blessings - some you just don't realize until after the fact. Morgan and Thayde hope to resume as normal a life as possible, but their plans are thwarted when uncontrollable thoughts begin to overwhelm Morgan and a terrible disease known as The Shadow slowly sucks the life from Thayde. At the beginning of her reign, is Morgan strong enough to cope with the inner turmoil consuming her, or will she collapse under her own insecurities? Plunge into FATHOM - the sequel to the FINS Trilogy.

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  For the man I dreamed of before I met him.

  The love of my life, my husband, Greg.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank my husband, Greg, for putting up with me those nights when I retreated to my office instead of to his arms.

  To my Emma, for watching a movie on her own when I had to write.

  To little Belle, because you slept!

  For Dad because of your wonderful advice to just “do your best”. Thank you for your encouragement.

  For my mother-in-law, Iva, for keeping the novel a secret.

  For Joline, who read the rough drafts and offered her honest, constructive criticism.

  To Karen, for getting me started - you were a blessing.

  For the extremely talented artist, Ken Koeberlein, who listened with great patience to all my unorganized ideas and designed the beautiful cover art for FINS. You created what I didn’t know I wanted. You are brilliant.

  To Nathan Lowell, who lent me his discerning opinion. Thank you so much!

  And, finally, to Mum, for inspiring me to write in the first place.

  Chapter One

  Florida

  Yee-haw! Florida, here I come!

  There was no way around it.

  I arched my back out of the coach class airline seat and stretched. It had been a long flight. Almost four hours from Denver and before that, one from Boise.

  Florida. Two things came to mind when I thought of Florida: Mickey Mouse and the Orlando Magic. And that it was hot. I wasn’t a huge fan of the heat, but imagining lying on a white beach with a nice blue ocean for two weeks seemed ok. That’s how Mom put it anyway.

  Mom. This was going to be interesting. Usually the first few days with her were good. Then the carefree feeling of vacation ended and it took a downturn to how depressed she was and how she wished I lived with her instead of being stuck in Idaho. She was never in one place for too long and I didn’t like being a nomad. I’d avoided visiting her for two years. I’m sure that would come up too.

  The only reason I was visiting her this summer was because she’d thrown a massive fit about it being my last summer before I graduated and how I’d be off to Harvard or Yale and never see her again. The last time I’d seen her, she was living in Vancouver, Washington. Now she was in a tiny town in Florida called Vero Beach.

  We were one “happy family” eight years ago. We lived in California at the time. Dad was an engineer and Mom was a hippie. I still don’t know why they got married. Opposites attract or something. I have to give them credit though, they were married for ten years. When they split, I went with Dad to Idaho. He wanted to be a cowboy, as Mom put it, and he succeeded.

  We lived in a small town called Stanley near the Sawtooth Mountains and he was a rancher. We had a hundred acres and because Dad was such a cool guy, the locals kind of adopted him and taught him how to be a cowboy. I think it was a lot harder than he expected, but he persevered and by the time I was ten, I knew more about birthing calves and castrating bulls than I had ever wanted to know.

  So here I am, cramped into a tiny seat with my straw cowgirl hat in my hands. I want to meet the engineers who decided that three inches was all a person in cattle class needed to recline to be comfortable. I want to meet them and force them to fly in that seat from LA to Tahiti. Maybe they’d change the design.

  I sighed and looked out the window. Nothing but clouds. The captain had said we were nearing Orlando. Mom was picking me up in her “jalopy” as she put it. She said it didn’t have air conditioning. That was just great.

  “So where are you heading once we land?” The little old lady on my left touched my arm gently and smiled a toothless smile. Didn’t they make fake teeth?

  “Vero Beach,” I said.

  “Oh!” Her face brightened. “You be careful when you go swimming. The merpeople in that area can be very forceful!”

  Merpeople? She was clearly insane. The man sitting next to her shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Now Mom, you know better than to tell tall tales.” He smiled nervously at me. “I’m sorry. Her medication mustn’t have kicked in yet.”

  “It’s ok.” I didn’t know what else to say. I hated flying.

  Somehow he managed to keep her from talking to me the last twenty minutes of our flight, and when we landed he quickly escorted her off the plane. It was fine with me. Strange people were always attracted to me – like moths to a flame. I never understood it.

  I could feel the humidity the instant I stepped off the plane. It was June and it wouldn’t be exaggerating to say that the barometer would clock it at 98 percent. I could feel my short blonde hair stick to my head. Thank God for the hat. I slapped it on my head and shoved my hands into my pockets.

  It was my first time in the Orlando International Airport. I followed the herd. We boarded a tram that threw us out into the open where I could see just how big the airport was. The lights seemed to go on forever. A short moment later and we pulled into another building. I didn’t waste any time getting my bag. It was the easiest one to spot – bright yellow hard case. I knew better than to have a black suitcase. Everyone else’s looked the same.

  “Morgandy!” That was undoubtedly Mom. She was the only person who called me by my full name. Everyone else called me Morgan. I turned around and scanned the crowd.

  “Over here, honey!” There she was. I hardly recognized her. She looked like she’d reverse aged. She didn’t look forty; she looked like she’d just turned thirty. I had to admit, Florida agreed with her. She looked amazing.

  Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a French braid that reached all the way down to the small of her back. She was wearing a broomstick green skirt that almost touched the floor and a white tank top that showed off her deep, smooth tan. A thick brown belt hung around her hips. As usual, she was covered in chunky silver jewelry. She pulled me into a tight hug. She smelled like green tea perfume.

  “I’ve missed you so much, my baby!” She said and held me at arms’ length. “You’re so tall and skinny!” Looking me up and down, her face dropped. “What happened to your hair?”

  “I cut it, Mom.”

  She had always preferred long hair on me. I got tired of it. Long
hair gave me headaches. I cut it just after my last visit to her. It was a very manageable two inches long now.

  “Oh honey!”

  I braced myself for the objection, but instead, she smiled. “Well, it’s not bad – you look like a pixie!” She laughed and a tall, handsome man who was hugging his wife looked longingly at her. Mom always had this effect on men. Not that I blame them. She was a beautiful woman.

  “You ready to hit the road?” She grabbed my suitcase effortlessly and put her arm around my waist. “I’ve got so much to tell you!”

  We walked to the parking garage and she directed me toward a white BMW SUV that looked brand new.

  “I thought you said it was a jalopy?” I frowned as I opened the passenger door and the smell of new car hit me.

  “That was a joke!” She slammed the back door and jumped in the driver’s seat, starting the car. “So much has happened lately. Where do I start?”

  I already knew. “You got married.”

  Her head snapped toward me and she stared with wide, green eyes. “How you do that, I’ll never know.” She checked the mirrors and backed up. “I think you’re going to love him.”

  I doubted it.

  “His name is Tammer. Isn’t that unusual?”

  No more unusual than her name – Elan. At least her name sounded pretty when you said it. Mine sounded like an old town.

  “His name means miracle,” she said. “Isn’t that special?”

  I guess. I didn’t answer. I was looking at the thick necklace of pearls that hung on the rear view mirror. There must have been ten strands filled with different colors - pink, cream, purple, light green. It was beautiful and obviously very expensive.

  “Aren’t you afraid someone’s going to break into your car and steal that?” I asked, pointing at the necklace.

  “Oh, good heaven’s no!” She laughed musically. “That won’t ever happen.” She opened her window and stopped to pay the toll.

  “Good evening, ma’am.” The attendant smiled eagerly at her.

  “Hello there, young man!” Her voice was warm and inviting. Many women would’ve thought she was flirting, but this was just my Mom. “I owe you some money,” she started to say, but he interrupted her.

  “This one’s on me,” he said and the gate lifted. She beamed at him.

  “Give me your hand,” she said and his hand flew to hers. She held it with both of hers for a brief moment and then pulled away. I could’ve sworn I saw something glint in the light. Then we drove through, leaving the man with a stunned look on his face.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “Just being kind,” she answered.

  We pulled onto the freeway and Mom started to tell me that we had an hour or so drive until we reached Vero Beach, but I could hardly keep my eyes open. It had been a long day and when her Enya CD began to softly sing from the car’s speakers and the cool air conditioning began to brush against my forehead, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Tammer

  “Baby, it’s time to wake up.”

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. It felt good to sleep and I didn’t want to have to face meeting the new “Dad.”

  “Come on and get some breakfast.”

  Breakfast? I opened my eyes and squinted in the bright light. I was in a massive, white four poster bed in the middle of a huge room with deep blue painted walls. Mom was sitting next to me, brushing my forehead with the back of her hand.

  “What happened?” I struggled against the multitude of pillows and sat up. It was definitely morning.

  “I didn’t want to wake you. You were so comfortable sleeping. So we put you to bed.”

  “How’d you get me in bed?” I rubbed my eyes with both hands.

  “Oh, Tammer carried you in.”

  Fantastic. That was not the way I’d wanted him to meet me.

  “I’m really surprised I didn’t wake up.”

  In the past, I’d always slept when Mom drove. For some reason, I didn’t sleep when Dad drove. He always joked that it was because he was more interesting to listen to.

  Mom stood up and her beautiful sarong cascaded down her legs to the floor. The color began as white and slowly melted into a light blue and then dark blue as it reached her feet. A large white seashell circled with gold hung on a gold necklace around her neck. Large white pearl earrings clung to her ears.

  “Do you want to freshen up first?”

  I nodded.

  “This is your room and your bathroom is through those doors.” She pointed to her right. I could see my suitcase sitting on a heavy, white wooden bureau close to the doors. She turned and walked to another set of doors, her long hair swaying behind her. I spied a small braid woven with tiny seashells in her hair.

  “I bought you a few island clothes. You’ll find that Floridians dress differently from Idahoans.” Smiling, she opened the doors to a large walk-in closet filled with outfits and shoes. A bit grandiose for me, but right up her alley.

  “Thanks Mom, but we have much different tastes in clothes.”

  Her smile fell.

  “But I’ll take a look through and see which ones I like,” I added hastily.

  She closed the doors. “Everything in this room is yours. I’ll be back in half an hour to give you the tour.” She laughed and kissed me on the forehead. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Then she was gone.

  Still in my jeans and long sleeved shirt, I sat in the middle of the bed. The room was simple but elegant - all white and blue. It made me and my yellow suitcase stand out like eyesores. Mom had obviously married a much richer man than Dad had ever dreamed of being.

  When I dragged myself out of bed, I noticed a lot more about the room. The white floor was the most unusual part. Seashells and what looked like glittery sand were embedded in the floor and it was smooth to the touch.

  Standing, I walked to the double doors which opened into a large bathroom. The same strange flooring continued there, as well. Huge windows flooded the room with warm sunlight making the floor sparkle. I decided it was the most beautiful bathroom I’d ever seen.

  The bathtub was a miniature pool set in the floor. It was about five feet deep and nearly seven feet long - plenty big enough for someone to lie down in. A huge mirror framed in old beach wood hung over an enormous shell that turned out to be the sink. Soft tan-colored towels were draped prettily over a towel warmer. Seashells seemed to be pressed into the walls, making a different type of wallpaper. After looking about, I realized the toilet had a room all its own.

  It was magical - something I’d never even dreamed about. I finally remembered that Mom would be back, so I stripped down and walked into the shower room. I turned on the faucet, and a sheet of water cascaded out of the wall like a waterfall. It was the best shower I’d ever taken.

  After drying off, I brushed my teeth and ran some gel through my hair. I decided to inspect the closet for some Floridian clothes. They were all Mom’s style - long flowing dresses and skirts of every color imaginable, tunic-like shirts, soft silk trousers, and shoes to match every outfit. I felt as if I were in her closet.

  Closing the doors and opening my suitcase, I pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top. That would do – plain and simple – just like me. There was a soft knock on the door and Mom gracefully walked in. Must’ve decided not to say anything about my sloppy look.

  “Hi.” She looked me up and down. “Did you see the view yet?”

  I shook my head and she directed me through a set of French glass doors onto a small balcony. The ocean waves lapped against the wall, a few feet below the edge. It was breathtaking.

  I stared at her. “What exactly is it that Tammer does?”

  “You can’t laugh!” She exclaimed. “Promise you won’t!”

  Nodding, I looked back to the ocean. A white boat many miles in the distance bobbed up and down.

  “He’s a treasure hunter.”

  She had to be joking. But she wasn’t.
<
br />   “He owns his own treasure hunting company. I’ll let him tell you a bit more about it when you meet him. Are you ready to eat?” She asked.

  I nodded and followed her back into the room.

  “Do you like your room?”

  “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.” I gazed around. Mom looked pleased.

  “Wait until you see the rest of the house.” With that, she pushed through the main door and we walked out into a courtyard. The sun beat down on us from a light blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere. To my right, the courtyard seemed to melt into the sea. In front of us, huge trees hid the rest of the house.

  “I wanted a bit of earth in our little sanctuary,” Mom explained, “I do miss the Redwoods of California. These are hardly Redwoods, though.”

  We came upon a pool where someone was swimming laps. Mom stood by the edge and touched the water. The person stopped and turned toward us. I assumed this was Tammer. He glided effortlessly to the edge and pulled himself out.

  If ever there were a perfect couple, Mom and Tammer were it. Tammer was absolutely gorgeous – much different from my father. Well over six feet tall, he was long and lithe, with perfect six-pack abs and sculpted back. He grabbed a small towel and ran it though his black hair. Walking up to us, he held out his hand.

  “It’s good to meet you - awake this time.” Smiling with a perfect set of white teeth, he winked one of his pale blue eyes.

  I shook his hand and felt like an idiot. I’d said nothing because it was like I was in a dream. Who were these gorgeous people? Even Mom had changed since I’d seen her last. Everything was surreal.

  Tammer looked at Mom. “Does she speak?” he asked politely.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “It’s nice to meet you. Your house is beautiful beyond words. I had no idea. Mom never said anything.”