Chapter 3 An opportunity.

I inhale deeply, reveling in the fresh ocean air as land draws closer. Chicago was in the seventies when I left this morning. Two layovers, a flight delay, and fifteen hours later, the fifty-five degree day has dropped to forty and I had to dig my winter jacket out of my suitcase.

"Have you ever been to Alaska before?" the captain asks, a soft-spoken, gray-haired man named John, his hands resting comfortably on the ferry's wheel. I shake my head, my gaze drifting over the sea of evergreens and rock as far as the eye can see. We left the Alaska dock thirty minutes ago. It didn't seem like it would take that long to cross, but Kachemak Bay is vast and wide and unlike anything I've ever seen. And on the other side is my home for the next four months. I'm so glad I remembered to take an Antivert an hour before boarding. I'd be throwing up all over the rails if I hadn't. Boats and I have never coexisted well.

_ So, what made you come?

I can say that John likes to talk, both to converse and to evaluate the foreigners who come to his homeland.

"A pamphlet," I answer simply, honestly. He laughs.

_Yes, it will do that, all right. It draws a lot of people our way. I smile, though his words echo inside me. It "drew" me. Yes, that's exactly what it did. Frankly, the flyer didn't need too much work. When things get bad, people always say they're going to pick up and move far away. Australia, France, anywhere that puts an ocean between them and their problems. Most never act on it. I certainly had no intention of doing so. And then I went to that job fair at the city library, more than a little scared about what I was going to do this summer. The recruiters were selling administrative and counseling positions, business internships, daycare. Nothing that interested me. Plus, they were all local positions in Chicago. The last thing I wanted to do was stay in Chicago for the summer. I needed to separate myself from him and his bitter memories, if only for a few months until school started again in the fall. But the idea of going back to Pennsylvania, where everyone, including the cows, had heard the nitty-gritty details of my breakup with Abraham, was even less appealing. That's what happens when you grow up in a small town and then go off to college with your high school boyfriend, who also happens to be the son of the reverend, who you were supposed to marry the summer after you both graduated from college. Who you've been saving yourself for. Who you caught with his pants down and pushing a black-haired jezebel. And, while you're in the depths of despair, even though you know better, you tell your upstanding church-going mother, who's known around town for both her raspberry pie and her big mouth. That scandal sure gave the people of Greenbank something to talk about during the long, cold Pennsylvania winter. It's been months since D-Day, or what I like to call Dick Day, when I caught him. February 2, to be exact. I'm sure tongues were wagging in the pews during the church service. When I visited over Easter weekend, though, I got nothing but sympathetic nods and pats. Abraham, sitting in the pew directly across from us, earned more than a few glares. Not everyone shared those feelings, though. His father, Reverend Enderbey, decided that giving a sermon on man's weakness to carnal flesh and the need for forgiveness and understanding would be more appropriate than discussing Christ's resurrection that day. Just as Abraham promised me, Reverend Enderbey promised my parents that this is just a momentary blip in Abraham's faith; that he's confused and needs to get his priorities straight. He'll come back to me, after he's finished sowing his wild oats. Why does everyone think I'll want to take him back? He broke my heart that day, and he's continued to break it every day, every time I see him walking hand-in-hand across campus with her. He's not just sowing wild oats. They're coming out now. So when I walked by the Star Hotels booth at the job fair a month ago and saw the brochure with a gorgeous view of snow-capped mountains and forests, I immediately stopped and started asking questions, and within ten minutes I knew that Star Cove was my ticket away from the blues, at least temporarily. I just needed to get to Alaska. They would provide transportation to the hotel, subsidized lodging and meals on-site, and weekly transportation to Homer, if needed, and I would work like a dog and keep my mind occupied. The best part? It was almost 3,800 miles from everything I know. It sounded perfect. And unattainable. I walked out of that interview feeling hopeless, assuming there was no way I was going to get the job. And yet, I'm standing here today. I call that divine intervention. God knew I needed this miracle.

It came in the form of a phone call a week after the interview, with an official offer for a position on the Landscaping and Maintenance team. I screamed. I even shed a few happy tears, which was a nice change from all the sad tears I'd shed since February. Knowing I could avoid Greenbank, Abraham, and my family, that I'd be leaving my dorm the day after my last exam and getting on a plane... that's the only reason I've stuck it out this long. The ferry turns left to run along the coast, further into the bay.

_ What are those places over there? Do people live here? _ I point towards the small cabins that dot the shore, camouflaged among the trees.

_ No. They are mostly hostels and cabin rentals.

I study structures, like yurts on stilts overlooking the water.

_ They are nice. Rustic.

_They are, in fact. Although not like Star Cove. _ John laughs softly, shaking his head.

_ Not exactly.

If the pictures in the brochure are at all accurate. My mom is convinced that everything is computer generated, that nothing that luxurious would exist in Alaska. That I will end up contracting West Nile virus from the thick fog of mosquitoes, or that I will wake up in the rickety shack I sleep in to find a bear biting my leg. To say that Bernadette White is not happy about this job in Alaska is an understatement. At first she told me flat out that she couldn't go. I hung up on her that night, the first time I had ever done that. Probably the first time anyone had ever had the nerve to hang up on a woman like her. I half expected her to drive the nine hours and pat me on the head. Two days later, when she had calmed down, she called me and tried to persuade me. I was making a grave mistake by leaving Greenbank and Abraham. We would be far away from the chaos of Chicago and the temptations that caused Abraham to stray. We would have each other, day in and day out, and I could remind her why we are so perfect together. I know it's not going to be that simple. So I held my ground. I've been "good girl Prue" all my life, sitting next to my parents at church service every Sunday, in the company of like-minded people, staying away from the "bad boys" who drank and smoked pot and had sex. Always listening to Mom. Maybe if I had spread my legs for Abraham, my heart wouldn't have broken into a thousand pieces. While she is my Mom and I know she wants the best for me, she also thinks Abraham and I belong together, and that our reunion is inevitable, once he gets "the devil" out of his system. I had to bite my tongue before pointing out to her that the girl currently sucking Abraham's cock is a major obstacle in this impending reconciliation of ours. I stare at the approaching buildings, my excitement triumphing over my exhaustion.

_ Where is?

_ Star Cove is just around the corner. Star Cove Hotel in Star Cove, Alaska.

_ How do you go about changing the name of a town, anyway?

John laughs softly again. He's such a nice man.

_The town has been Star Cove for hundreds of years. The Star family has a lot of history up here, with the gold mines. That's where they made their first fortune. Although I'm sure they could afford to rename it, if it came to that. They're a lot of success. Generous, too. Man, to be part of that family. They must have a lot of money, to risk opening a location like this up here, and put their employees in the way they're doing for us, and all the benefits.

_ Hey, thanks for coming back for me. I didn't want to stay in a motel.

It's just John and I on the ferry, and a deck full of boxes and supplies. He was kind enough to make another trip across the bay and pick me up after my flight was delayed. Apparently he loaded a full load of college-aged employees a few hours ago.