With a deep breath, I decided I was not going to let any of this irritate me. I was here for one whole month, and I was going to enjoy every moment. I proper my arm in the open window, inhaled the warm, salty air, and took in the early evening scenery.
Off to the right stretched the blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. The miles of sparkling clarity reminded me of the waters of Bermuda. My family had gone there two years ago for summer vacation. Gwenny and I had swum and snorkelled until our skin turned wrinkly.
On the horizon I caught sight of a fishing boat with lines and nets thrown out.
A moped passed us, beeping its tiny horn. I wondered how fast we were going. Cade glanced over and gave a slight nod to the older man as he went zipping past.
We continued along the coastal highway with the ocean to my right and overgrown brush to the left. We passed a small village of stone cottages nearly hidden by the overgrown greenery, and I inched forward in my seat to catch a better glimpse.
Eventually, the van reached the other side of the island and pulled off the highway onto a gravel road.
We drove under the beautiful archway of bright red flowers growing on thick green vines that I had seen on the Pepper House's website. We circled around a stone fountain with four carved goats spouting water from their mouths. Cade stopped the van in front of a Mediterranean-style whitewashed stone house covered in more beautiful red flowers.
He turned the key and silence filled the cab.
"Here we are," he said, flinging open his door and getting out of the van.
I sat for a moment and smiled. Here I am.
