Alaskan Catch

by Sue Pethick

  “Me and Marilyn are going down to Jojo’s for some karaoke. You wanna come?”

  Sam looked around. Bear was crashed on his dog bed and the house was secure. Other than playing solitaire or rereading one of the books on his shelves, there wasn’t much to do.

  “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

  * * *

  Jojo’s Bar was surprisingly busy for a Sunday night. Sam spotted Kallik at a table about halfway toward the front. He gave his order at the bar and started wading through the crowd. Marilyn was up at the stage with the KJ, karaoke jockey, looking through the song list. Before Sam could join Kallik at the table, she waved him over.

  “They’ve got ‘I Got You, Babe’ in here. Will you do it with me?”

  “Why? Won’t Kallik do it?”

  She made a face.

  “My husband might look like Sonny Bono,” she said, “but he sings like Bob Dylan.”

  Sam laughed. “I don’t know, Mar.”

  “Come on,” she wheedled. “It’ll be a great warmup for Phantom.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Who told you we were doing Phantom?”

  “Junie. She says the part’s yours if you want it.” She took his arm. “You really should, you know. You have a gorgeous voice.”

  Sam shrugged. Rehearsals for the winter musical—whatever it was—were still a long way off. In the meantime, he had an entire salmon season to get through, with all the problems that entailed. He couldn’t afford to get distracted.

  “Well, think about it,” she said. “In the meantime, sing this duet with me. If you don’t, I’ll be stuck with Sonny ‘Oh no!’”

  “Oh, come on. He’s not that bad. Give the guy a chance.”

  “Okay, but remember: you asked for it.”

  Sam’s drink arrived at the table just as he did. Kallik smiled and lifted his glass.

  “Thanks for coming. Marilyn’s been wanting to sing a duet, and I needed a ringer to take my place.”

  “Really?” Sam deadpanned. “She just told me she was looking forward to singing it with you.”

  Kallik looked at his drink.

  “In that case,” he said, signaling for the waitress, “I’d better have a few more of these.”

  As he sipped his beer, Sam took a look around. Two tables over, he saw the NOAA interns doing shots and raising hell. He wasn’t surprised that Emily wasn’t with them. After what she’d been through that afternoon, he figured she was holed up at home, hiding under a blanket. One of the girls—a bosomy blonde—raised her glass to him. Without thinking, he returned the gesture before turning back toward Kallik.

  “I saw Logan Marsh today—twice, as a matter of fact.”

  “What’s that rat up to?”

  “No good, as usual. He gave me a start on my way to breakfast. Said he was just out for a stroll, but it bothered me seeing him so close to the house. Then, this afternoon, I caught him trying to drag a girl off behind those sheds near Davis and Son.”

  “What was she doing down there, hooking?”

  “As it happens, she was looking for me. She saw Bear walk past the cannery and tried to follow us. I’d already ducked through a doorway by the time she made it out to the sidewalk. She must have walked right into him.”

  “Wait a minute. The cannery was closed today.”

  “She’s one of the interns.”

  The engineer smiled slyly.

  “Is this, by any chance, the green-eyed lady we saw at the bar?”

  Sam felt his face flush.

  “Oh ho,” Kallik said, lifting his glass in acknowledgement. “This is getting interesting.”

  “What is?” Marilyn demanded as she took her seat.

  “Lonely boy here has an admirer.”

  “No surprise there.” She leaned forward. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

  Sam took another long sip of beer. He hated being put on the spot, especially since he knew next to nothing about Emily. Was she even single? Nevertheless, when he thought back to the time they’d spent at his place, there’d definitely been some mutual attraction going on. He set his glass down and grinned thoughtfully.

  “Her name’s Emily. She works at the cannery.”

  Marilyn pulled her chin back.

  “The cannery! You going after jail bait now?”

  It was a fair assumption; cannery work was the preferred summer job for high school kids in the area. Nevertheless, Sam felt a bit miffed at the accusation.

  “For your information,” he said, “she’s interning with NOAA. I don’t know how old she is, exactly, but she’s got to be at least college age.”

  Kallik, who’d once had a job guessing people’s ages at a carnival, weighed in with his expert opinion: “I’d say somewhere between eighteen and twenty-five.”

  His wife rolled her eyes.

  “Well, that’s comforting.”

  “Don’t get too excited about it,” Sam told her. “I doubt she’ll be sticking around after the season’s over.”

  “That could be a good thing, man,” Kallik said. “Give you a chance to dip your toe in before jumping into the deep water.”

  As the lights dimmed, Marilyn looked at Sam and shook her head.

  “Where did I find him?”

  On stage, the spotlight went on. The KJ introduced himself to a smattering of applause, then checked the sign-up list and announced the first singer, a bright-eyed woman who’d come with a table full of girlfriends. As she got up on stage, her cheering section went wild.

  “Divorcées,” Marilyn whispered.

  Kallik nodded. “Late thirties to mid-forties.”

  Sam sat back as the woman on stage belted out “When Will I Be Loved.” She wasn’t terrible, but she wasn’t that good, either. Her voice was weak and she held the mic like it was going to bite her. Most people, he thought, had no idea how to sing into a microphone.

  The next person up was a friend of Marilyn’s.

  “I gotta get a video of this,” she said, reaching for her phone. “You guys stay here. I’ll be back in a mo’.”

  As his wife made her way closer to the stage, Kallik looked at Sam.

  “How’s the search going?”

  “Nothing yet,” he said. “Mollie gave me a lead on some guy who came in for breakfast, but he turned out to be a broker trawling for buyers.”

  “Damn.”

  He nodded. “That’s how I ran into Logan the second time,” Sam said. “I went down there to talk to the guy, and as I was leaving his office, Bear took off. By the time I chased him down, Logan had turned the girl loose, but her arm was pretty badly bruised. She made a police report, so the cops are out looking for him. I just hope they find him before he breaks into my house.”

  “You think he would?”

  “You said yourself that he blames me for ruining his life. If he thought he could even the score, why not?”

  Kallik took another sip of beer and shook his head. “You never know about people, do you?”

  “Nope. You never do.”

  Marilyn hustled back to the table just in time for the KJ to call her name. She gave Sam a last pleading look before turning to Kallik and taking his hand.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s go knock ’em dead.”

  Kallik downed the last of his beer and leaned toward Sam.

  “Thanks for nothing,” he muttered as his wife dragged him away.

  As his friends took the stage, Sam saw movement off to his right. A few seconds later, the blond intern who’d been eying him came staggering over. She plopped down in Kallik’s chair and gave him a sloppy smile.

  “Hey there, handsome.”

  As opening lines went, it was pretty artless, but then, it looked like she was pretty drunk. Sam took another sip of beer, trying to figure out a way to get rid of her without being cruel. He nodded toward the stage.

  “This is a short song. My friends will be needing that chair back.”

  She leaned closer.

  “I’m Kim,” she said, blowing
whiskey fumes in his face. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  He shook his head. He couldn’t remember meeting any of the interns besides Emily, but if Kim was a local, she might have been in the audience at one of his performances. People who stopped by after the final curtain sometimes imagined that a brief interaction with one of the actors constituted a meaningful connection.

  “’Fraid not,” he said. “Sorry.”

  Up on stage, Marilyn had just sung the opening lines of their duet while Kallik hammed it up, trying to compensate for his lack of talent. Ordinarily, Sam would have contributed a few hoots and whistles to the show, but Kim’s continued presence made him self-conscious. As the girl lingered at his table, his irritation grew. Couldn’t she take a hint?

  “Look, Kim, no offense—”

  “What’s the matter, don’t you like girls?”

  Sam felt his lips tighten. He’d tried to be nice, but this was too much. Whatever her problem was, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

  “Oh, but that can’t be true,” she added. “I mean, you like Miss Emily just fine, don’t you?”

  Hearing her invoke Emily’s name put an end to any attempts Sam might have made to spare the girl’s feelings. He set down his drink, determined to get rid of her. Instead, Kim leaned in closer, putting her cleavage on display.

  “Wouldn’t you rather have yourself a local girl?”

  On stage, Kallik and Marilyn were singing the last line of “I Got You, Babe,” their arms cradling the child in Marilyn’s belly. People all around them were on their feet, cheering in support. Sam nodded toward the other interns.

  “I think you need to go back to your friends now.”

  “Fine.” Kim pushed her chair back hard enough to topple it over. “Go ahead and make a fool of yourself with that spoiled little rich girl. What do I care?”

  Sam set the chair back in place as Marilyn and Kallik returned to the table, still acknowledging the cheers from the audience. As she plopped down in her chair, Marilyn took her husband’s arm.

  “Be sweet and get me a glass of water,” she said, fanning her face. “I’m hotter’n a bear’s tail.”

  “Will do.”

  She cast a glance toward the interns’ table. “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing.”

  Sam watched Kallik make his way to the bar. “I envy you guys, you know? Finding love’s not that easy.”

  “What about that honey who was keeping my seat warm?”

  “No,” he said, hunkering over his glass. “Not by a long shot.”

  “So, that’s not the green-eyed girl?”

  He shook his head. In spite of himself, Kimberley’s words had stung. Was he making a fool of himself?

  Marilyn lifted her hair and started fanning the back of her neck.

  “I know things with Tiffany didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again, you know.”

  “Maybe, but not with Emily.”

  “Why? She not your type, either?”

  Sam regarded his glass.

  “You know me, Mar. I’m not the kind of guy who goes in for short-term relationships, and she’s only here for the summer. If I’m going to put myself through all that again, it’ll have to be for something that can last.”

  Marilyn laughed. “Oh, Sam. You can’t possibly know that from the outset.”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But as far as Emily goes, I do. Once her internship’s over, she won’t be sticking around.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “If you give her a reason to, maybe she will.”

  Kallik came back and handed her a bottle of Dasani. Marilyn unscrewed the lid and started guzzling it down.

  “She’s been like this for the last couple of weeks,” he told Sam. “With all that water she drinks, I’m thinking there might be an orca in there.”

  Sam pretended to take the comment seriously.

  “Well, it makes sense. Don’t orcas symbolize motherhood?”

  Marilyn set down her empty bottle and took a swipe at her husband.

  “He just means I’m getting fat.”

  As Kallik kissed his wife’s cheek, Sam looked away. Their playful banter just pointed out how empty his own life was—not that he and Tiffany had ever had the kind of relationship the two of them had. Looking back, it seemed as if there’d always been something reserved about Tiff, some part of her that was hidden—maybe even from herself. Still, he thought, it had been better than nothing.

  “So,” Kallik said. “You found a sitter for the dog yet?”

  “Nope. You guys hear of anyone?”

  “I asked around,” Marilyn said. “No luck so far.”

  “Maybe they just need time to think about it,” Kallik said.

  “What’ll you do in the meantime?” Marilyn asked.

  Sam shrugged. “Leave him at home, I guess. Not sure what else I can do.”

  “He’s a good dog. He’ll be fine on his own,” Kallik said.

  “Yeah. You’re probably right,” Sam answered.

  “Tell you what,” Marilyn said. “I’ll try and check on him if I’m in town. I can’t really take him out in my condition—”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “—but I can at least make sure he’s got food and water.”

  Sam smiled. “Thanks, Mar. That’d be great.”

  CHAPTER 11

  By Wednesday, Ketchikan’s fishing season was back to normal. Salmon were being caught, tenders were bringing them in, and the cannery was humming. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of Emily’s relationship with her roommates.

  The argument on Sunday night had escalated to the point where Emily now found herself accused of “toying” with Sam, who’d apparently been “crushed” by his breakup with Tiffany. Even worse, Rachel had taken Kimberley’s side, and although Uki hadn’t weighed in one way or the other, she was doing her best to avoid all three of them. Aside from the absurdity of casting Sam as some sort of fragile, broken-hearted wretch, Emily was insulted that anyone would call her a tease.

  As if the whispered comments and cold shoulders weren’t bad enough, the interns were working in pairs that morning and Tim had decided to put Emily and Kimberley together. Whether it was just a coincidence or an attempt on his part to put an end to their feud, it wasn’t working. By noon, they were no closer to a rapprochement than when they’d arrived. Nevertheless, as the two of them walked along the filleting station, any thoughts Emily might have had about their quarrel had been temporarily banished. Instead, she was brooding about her mom.

  It had started the night before. In addition to her work at the cannery, Emily was hoping to spend part of her time in Ketchikan as a fisheries observer, and between working the line during the day and reviewing fishing regulations at night, she could truthfully say there hadn’t been time for her to call home. She knew there’d be hell to pay once she did, but the relief from the never-ending drama that was her mother’s life had been worth it.

  Then last night, while the others were out at a movie, she’d finally given her mom a ring. It didn’t take long for her to regret the decision.

  “Sorry I haven’t called,” Emily said. “I’ve been super busy. Got a lot on my plate up here.”

  “Well, how good of you to find the time.”

  Emily had known that something like this might happen when she called; her mother wasn’t the type to come right out and say she was upset, after all. Luckily, though, the sulking rarely lasted long. She’d just have to find a way to jolly her mother out of it.

  “How’ve you been?” she said.

  “Oh, like you: busy. Too busy, really. I got stuck running the holiday gala at the club again this year and the whole thing is just overwhelming.”

  Yeah, right.

  As much as her mother complained, the woman loved being in charge of the gala. It was the perfect combination of shameless theatrics and conspicuous self-sacrifice, and woe betide anyone who suggested someone els
e take the job.

  “How are things up there? No more dog attacks, I hope.”

  Emily glanced at the angry purple bruises on her arm.

  “Nope. No more problems with the dog.”

  “I mentioned that whole incident to Judge Dorset when I ran into him at church on Sunday. I thought we might have a legal case against the owner.”

  Emily was mortified. It was just like her mother to harangue a family friend—a judge, no less!—about some minor personal matter.

  “And what did he say? Did he think we should sue the dog?”

  There were several seconds of silence on the line.

  “Is that supposed to be funny? Because I don’t happen to consider my daughter’s welfare a joke.”

  “I’m sorry, but it just wasn’t that big of a deal—honestly. Certainly not big enough to bother Judge Dorset about.”

  “Oh, please. He understood; he and I are old friends.”

  Her mother did have a point there, Emily thought. If anyone could understand the workings of an unstable mind, it was a judge in the juvenile court system.

  “Speaking of people at church,” her mother continued, “Sheila Trescott and I had a word with Reverend Taylor after the service. He says if you and Carter are planning a June wedding next year, you need to contact his secretary and get yourselves on their calendar as soon as possible.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “I know, dear. I could hardly believe it myself, but apparently these places book up very quickly.”

  “No, I mean, why did you guys tell Reverend Taylor that we were getting married?”

  “Why not? You are, aren’t you?”

  Emily was aghast. Their mothers had been dropping hints for months, but this was the first time they’d said anything explicit about marriage. Yes, she and Carter had been dating each other exclusively for a while, and yes, there’d even been some casual banter about “maybe someday,” but that hardly amounted to a commitment. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to feel as if they had to marry just to please their families.

  “Mom, please. Carter and I both have a lot of things to do before we’re ready to get married.”

  “Like what?”

  “He still has to finish his residency, for one thing, and I’ve got to get a job.”