Alaskan Summer (3 page)

“I like your attitude.”

Laurette liked his smile. She followed him back down to catch the next tender going ashore.

She felt comfortable with Ryan today. Maybe some of the things Edith had said about him had made her more sympathetic.
It did help to have him being friendly,
she admitted, glancing at his long, slender fingers. What would it be like to hear him play the piano?

Back at the office, Tyler caught Laurette’s attention. “My wife called and wants you to talk to John Stevenson. A friend at our church told her he’s looking for someone to stay at his mother’s house. Says she’s getting a bit senile, and he’d like to have someone there at night and checking on her while he’s out fishing.”

Laurette welcomed the chance—until she saw the look on Ryan’s face.
Just how senile is this woman?

❧

Ryan tried to hide his feelings.
Should I warn Laurette?
He looked at his boss. What were he and Diane thinking, sending Laurette out there? He sighed and poured a cup of coffee.

Silently sipping his coffee, he watched Laurette.
She bubbles,
he thought, smiling inwardly.

The usual details of taking care of ships and passengers filled the day. When it was almost time to go home, Tyler looked up from a stack of new faxes. “Ryan, could you drop Laurette by John Stevenson’s boat on your way home? He’s at the Alaskan Native Brotherhood Marina. I’m sure he’ll see that she gets back to Edith’s.”

Impulsively, Ryan asked her, “Want to get something to eat before we go see John?”

“I’d like that.”

Moments later, they settled into a booth in a small café. “They have great fish-and-chips,” he told Laurette as a waitress walked up.

“Drinking the usual, Ryan?”

He nodded. “And an order of fish-and-chips.” Pointing at his seatmate, he said, “This is Laurette, Connie. She’s working for Southeast this summer.”

“Welcome to Sitka. You addicted to chocolate milk, too?”

“I’d like a cola with my fish-and-chips, please.”

Ryan watched as Laurette sipped her water. Her warm brown eyes seemed to sparkle. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose. The damp air left her chestnut hair in tight ringlets around her heart-shaped face.
She brings sunshine to everything she touches,
he thought.

While they waited for their meals, she asked, “Does this John Stevenson live on his boat?”

“No, he’s got a place in town. He must be getting ready for the halibut opening.”

Laurette put her water glass down. “What’s a halibut opening? Sounds like a Broadway play.”

“John’s a commercial fisherman. The Fisheries Department sets certain hours when the commercial boats can go out.”

“I don’t know about taking care of his mother,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “I looked at the schedule in the office, and I don’t think I’ll be around much, what with more and more ships coming in after this week.”

Ryan welcomed the waitress with their meals. He still didn’t think he should get involved.
She can make her own choice on this one,
he thought, grabbing a piece of fish.

“I’d like to find a place to live as soon as I can.”

“I see Edith when I play at the Dockside Hotel, but I don’t know her at all.” He gulped some of his chocolate milk.

“She told me you played piano in the lounge there.” She took a bite of fish. “You’re right. This is good.”

“The job with SAM is seasonal. I pick up some tips playing piano in the winter months.” He grinned. “It pays for my drinking habit.”

They ate in comfortable silence. Soon they’d polished off the last of their fish-and-chips, and Ryan wiped his hands on a napkin. “Ready to go?”

“Uh-huh.” She drank down the last of her soda and reached for the check. “I want to pay for my own,” Laurette said firmly.

“You leave the tip.” He smiled and snatched the check from her.

❧

“Rain get to you?” he asked as they walked back to the car in a fine mist.

“I spent four years at the University of Washington in Seattle. Got used to the rain. Did you go south for college?”

“No—stayed here and went to Sheldon Jackson.”

He kept his thoughts to himself while he turned onto Katlian Street and slowed to look at the boats. “Most people call this the ANB Harbor. I’m not sure what slip John’s in. We’d better park and walk.”

“They all look alike to me,” Laurette said, staring up at the tall rigging on the boats tied up along the dock. “Do you know Mr. Stevenson well?”

“My dad fished with him years ago.” Ryan waved to a man coiling rope on the bow of a boat. “Hey, John,” he called.

Laurette followed Ryan to where the fisherman stepped onto the dock. “John, this is Laurette, the woman Diane Healy called about,” Ryan explained.

Laurette stepped next to Ryan and shook John’s hand. “Nice to know you, Laurette.”

“Thank y—”

“When’s the opening?” Ryan asked him, realizing too late he’d interrupted her. He gave her a look he hoped showed an apology.

“We get forty-eight hours starting at six in the morning.”

“You fish for forty-eight hours?” Laurette’s voice held disbelief.

John smiled at her. “That’s how I make a living.” He turned to Ryan. “Thanks for bringing her by. I can see that she gets back to where she’s staying.”

Ryan looked at Laurette. She seemed okay with the plan, so he bade them good-bye and walked back to his car.

He brooded over her remark that she had gone to the U of W. He had worked hard to get the grades to enroll there. He kicked a rock on the path. “Stayed to take care of Mother,” he whispered bitterly.

Why do you stay here? Your mother’s gone. Nothing to hold you in Sitka now,
his conscience taunted him.

He breathed deeply, drawing the fresh salt air into his lungs. Somewhere on the hill rising above the harbor, an eagle called.

Did you only stay for her, or was it because you couldn’t bear to leave Sitka?

Ryan shook off the thoughts and the drops falling around him, then got in his car and drove back to his trailer.

THREE

Laurette watched Ryan walk up the dock before turning to John Stevenson. He appeared to be in his early fifties. Wisps of gray hair peeked from under his seaman’s cap. He stood three or four inches taller than she did.

“Come inside out of the rain.” He offered to help her step onto the bow of the boat.

She followed his stocky, jean-clad figure through the door into a neat-looking galley. He motioned for her to take a seat on a bench behind the table.

“Coffee?” he asked, reaching for mugs hanging above the stove.

She nodded, noting the brackets around the stove burners; she guessed they held pots and pans in place so they wouldn’t slide off if the boat rocked. Cooking on a boat would be a whole new experience.

John set a mug in front of her and took a seat across the table. His smile crinkled his weather-beaten face. “Now let’s get to know each other. Diane Healy told me you needed a room to rent this summer.”

“That’s right. I’ll be here until the middle of October. After that I don’t have plans.”

“Well, my mother is getting on in years. She’s been getting more and more forgetful. When a friend called to tell me she had gone to pick Mother up for church, and Mom didn’t remember it was Sunday, I started getting worried.”

“I wouldn’t be around very much. And I really wouldn’t be able to take care of her, since I’m working for SAM,” Laurette said quickly.

He nodded. “I know all about Southeast Maritime.” He sipped his coffee. “Mother is very independent. She doesn’t need a nurse.” John chuckled softly. “As a matter of fact, I’ve had to be carefully diplomatic to get her approval to rent a room.” He put the cup down. “I take care of Mom because I want to, but she doesn’t like to take money from me.” His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “I suggested that if she rented her spare room, she would have a little more spending money. I know she’ll want you to share the whole house—feel free to cook, wash clothes, or do whatever you want. Having you come in and out each day will give her something to look forward to. And it will make me feel better knowing someone is there to check on her each evening.”

“It sounds good to me. I’m staying at a B and B right now, but I couldn’t afford that for very long.” Laurette sipped the coffee.

“Mother and I decided on a rent of two hundred a month.”

Laurette gasped. “I pay fifty dollars a night now. Is there a catch I don’t know about?” She put the mug down with a thump.

John’s good-natured laugh eased her mind. “I would be willing to pay
you
to stay there. This way we both win. You get a cheaper rent and Mom gets a companion. Would you like to meet my mother before you decide?”

“I think that would be wise—for both of us,” Laurette said emphatically.

John picked up the cups and put them in the sink. “We can run over there now if you’d like.”

“Aren’t you busy getting ready for the opening tomorrow?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Just down here fussing with the boat this evening. I planned to see Mother again before I left, anyway.” He opened the door for her. “This way you can go with me.”

She climbed into his pickup truck. He pulled onto Katlian Street for a few blocks before turning down a small road leading up the hill overlooking what John called Thompson Harbor. At the top she spotted a neat-looking frame house with a wraparound deck. There were flowerpots on the deck with daffodils in bloom.

“Mom loves her flowers. She can get things to grow where no one else is successful. She’ll be setting out geraniums as soon as the daffodils are spent.”

Laurette followed him into the entryway, which appeared to be a place to hang coats and stash boots. Beyond the mudroom, she spotted a laundry with cupboards built along the opposite wall. John opened a door into the kitchen. It wasn’t new, but it appeared serviceable to Laurette. The room looked bright and clean. When they entered the large living room, a spry elderly woman got up and gave John a big hug.

“Mother, I’ve brought a young lady to meet you.” He kept one arm around his mother’s shoulders as he turned to introduce Laurette.

“Oh, how pretty you are.” A smile lit the woman’s wrinkled face.

Laurette offered her hand.

“Mother, this is Laurette Martel. Laurette, this is my mother, Ruth Stevenson.”

“And you have a pretty name,” Ruth said, taking Laurette’s hand in both of hers.

Her sincere welcome warmed Laurette. Ruth’s steel-gray hair had been pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her clothes were clean and tidy. “I’m glad to meet you,” Laurette said politely.

“Come sit down.” Ruth motioned toward the other lounge chair and then to the davenport against the opposite wall. It stood between two doors Laurette thought must go to the bedrooms. Looking at the end of the room, she saw the view from a large window. She walked to the built-in window seat. “It’s beautiful. You can see the water and the far islands.”

Ruth came up behind her. “My Warren cut the tall trees when we built here. Now it’s just scrub that won’t block the view but does give us privacy.”

“You have a lovely home.” Laurette took a seat on the davenport across from the lounge chairs. John muted the television his mother had been watching.

“Have you brought this girl to rent the room?” Ruth asked her son.

“Don’t you think you should get to know her better before you invite her to live with you?” he asked his mother with a wink at Laurette. “I think you’re just eager to start getting rent money to spend.”

Ruth giggled like a young girl. “Just a little mad money, Son. I won’t go wild or anything.” She turned to Laurette. “Are you new to Sitka?”

“Yes. I’ll be working for Southeast Alaska Maritime this summer, and I do need a place to live.”

“Well, let me show you the room, and if you would like to try it for a week to see if you can put up with an old lady like me, that would be fine with me.”

Laurette liked Ruth, but she welcomed the chance to try the situation before making a serious commitment.

“And you can check me out to see if I make too much noise,” Laurette said, looking at the bed, dresser, and nightstand in the front bedroom.

“Oh, you don’t like that horrid music, do you?” Ruth asked in alarm.

It was Laurette’s turn to laugh. “No, I never got into hard rock. I do have some tapes and CDs, but they’re prayer and praise songs.”

“That would be nice. Do you have a church?”

“The Healys have invited me to go with them.” The women had returned to their seats in the living room.

“Well, I go to St. Peter’s-by-the-Sea. It’s one thing around here that’s older than I am.”

The more Laurette listened to this upbeat, personable woman, the more she liked her. Spending time with Ruth could be like having her own special grandmother. They chatted for a few more minutes, then Laurette announced, “I can move in as soon as I can find a vehicle. This would be too far for me to walk to work.”