Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. One moment, Ava had been on a plane, flying to Duckburg. Now, she was sitting in a car, going back home with a stranger.
The preteen hugged her bag, still trying to process what was happening. She was quiet and wouldn't talk, even though Fenton was chatty. He kept looking over at her, but she just stared out the window.
"So...I was thinking about turning on the radio. What do you like to listen to?" Fenton asked.
"Anything."
"You don't have a favorite kind of music?"
Ava shook her head.
He turned on the radio. After awhile, he turned the volume down and asked, "Do you mind if I ask what's in the bag?"
"My stuff."
Fenton just nodded.
Ava asked, "How did you meet my mom?"
"She came to the hotel I was working at at the time and asked for directions somewhere. I don't remember where it was. But, anyway, we got to talking and hit it off pretty good. One thing led to another and...here you are!"
Ava looked down. "I always figured I was an accident since Mom never told me who my dad was."
"Well, accidents aren't always bad things," Fenton stated, trying to reassure her. "It's like going into a bakery and accidentally getting a vanilla cake instead of a chocolate one. It's still good, either way."
"So I was an accident."
Fenton rapidly shook his head. "No, no! I meant that you were a surprise. Surprises aren't bad."
"Sometimes, they are."
"Not you."
Ava was quiet.
"You don't believe me."
"I just want to get this trip over with, Mr. Crackshell."
Fenton's face fell. He figured out that Ava wasn't going to warm up to him easily, but that didn't mean he was going to stop trying to get close to her. He had a feeling this was going to be a long trip.