Chapter 4 A cold summer

_ We didn't want to leave you stranded. Especially not on the first day. I would have had to go back for supplies first thing in the morning anyway.

I look at my watch in dismay.

_ I missed the orientation session _ It started at seven, almost an hour ago. The sky is deceptively clear for this time of the afternoon _ I can't believe how bright it still is.

_ Wait until June.

_ Less than five hours of darkness at the equinox, right?

He smiles _ Someone has been doing his homework.

_ I like to be prepared.

The day I applied for the job, I ran home and researched Alaska late into the night instead of studying for my exams. The more I dug, the more excited I became and the more I prayed that I would get the job.

_ Well, I'm sure one of the ladies will be kind enough to tell you what you missed. They seemed like a nice bunch. Well-educated young people like yourself, for the most part anyway.

At twenty-one, it feels strange to be referred to as a "youngster," but I guess next to John, who must be in his seventies, that's exactly what I am. The ferry rounds the islet farm and turns into the cove. John points to the huge building ahead. And there's the Star Cove hotel. My eyes widen.

_ Wow! The pictures in the brochure weren't fake. And they don't do this place justice.

John laughs again _ No, they certainly weren't.

I stare at it in silence, mesmerized. The main lodge towers over the water. Even from this distance, I can see that the lodge is grand in its design and massive in size. I can't quite make out the details yet to appreciate it, but there's no doubt that it's something to admire.

_ They just put the finishing touches on it two weeks ago. I've been working on it for almost three years now.

Belinda, the woman who called me to formally hire me, said that these first few days would be focused on training and last-minute preparations.

_ I'll bring the first guests at noon. I've been bringing in employees in droves over the past two days. There are a lot of you. A high staff-to-guest ratio, I heard someone say.

_ How will the Star family make money?

_ I guess the price of twelve hundred dollars a night will help.

My mouth opens.

_ Who can afford that? _ I barely scraped together the eleven hundred I needed for my plane ticket here.

_ What's that famous line from that movie? Oh, gee. You might be too young to remember. The one with the baseball and all those cornfields. 'If you build it...

I smile.

"It's just my dad's favorite movie." He winks. We fall into a comfortable silence as we get closer, and I realize I've been unconsciously rolling my promise ring around my finger this entire time. It's been three months since Abraham and I broke up, and I haven't been able to get it off. Now, I take it off, letting the cheap metal rest in the palm of my hand. Part of me, the hurt, angry part, wants to throw it in the water and be done with it. A symbol of my faith in Abraham. But I can't bring myself to do that just yet. So, I slip the ring into my pocket and try to focus on the months ahead.

The deeper I go into Star Cove Hotel, the more I love it. Standing on the shoreline, the main lodge serves as the centerpiece, a massive rustic building constructed of thick timbers and stone but adorned with balconies and chandeliers, and entire walls made of glass, giving it a sense of opulence. Crushed granite paths lit with carriage lights lead guests past boat docks and watersports equipment - more kayaks, canoes and rowboats than I've ever seen. On the left side of the lodge are three cottages inspired by the main building, each perched high on rocks, surrounded by trees and adorned with balconies overlooking the water. John said those are the penthouse suites. To the right are gardens to sit and reflect in, and beyond that are signs leading to Star Cove's hiking trails. Miles of Alaskan wilderness to explore, according to the brochure. I push through a heavy set of glass doors and revel in the warmth and smell of cedar in the large foyer, offering a young woman who passes me a nod and a smile. She returns it, zipping up her jacket before exiting. I've never been one for a lot of friends. Just a few, really, mostly through church groups and study groups. The problem is that they've all been "our" friends and now that Abraham and I aren't together, I'm very aware that something is missing when I see them. So I've isolated myself from them for the past few months, staying in my dorm, focusing on my studies. Most of them don't even know I'm up here. I'll make new friends here, I assure myself. Ones who don't know anything about me, about my life at home. It's kind of refreshing to get to be who I want to be. That's what I told myself I'd be this summer about. Not answering to anyone, including Mom. Not worrying about what people will think, or what they will say, or weighing my every word, thought, and decision based on what Jesus, Reverend Enderbey, and my mom would deem appropriate. I've spent too much time worrying about that stuff. Look where that's gotten me? Alone, while the guy I've loved for years is having, I'm sure, copious amounts of sex. It's after nine at night, and a few people are milling around. The email sent last week says I'm supposed to show up at the main lodge to check in upon arrival, so I head over to the large, rustic-chic desk, made of logs of wood. A woman stands behind it, her eyes glued to the computer screen in front of her. It's not until I get closer that I see her nameplate. It's Belinda, the woman I spoke to on the phone. I smile.

_ Hello, Belinda.

My mom taught me to always use a person's name whenever you can. She looks up, her sharp gaze peering out from behind stylish red-framed glasses. I wish I had the guts to buy a pair of glasses like those.

_ Name please?

I remind myself that she probably talked to hundreds of employees. She's not going to remember me. Prue White.

"Wow. Yeah." She takes a quick glance at my bulky coat and what I'm sure is wild hair (wind and braids never play nice) before settling on my face. What is that I see flickering across her expression? Annoyance? Disgust? It fades too quickly for me to identify. "You left me a message about missing the orientation session, didn't you?"

_ Yes, that was me. My flight was delayed.

_ Okay. Give me a minute.

I use my shirt sleeve to wipe the fog off my glasses as she picks up my file, her nails tapping on the keyboard.

_ Okay, here we go. Prudence White.

_ It's Prue.

She gives me a tight smile, a contradiction to her soft, seductive voice. She is stunningly beautiful, her makeup flawless, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder in soft movie star waves, but she is dressed inappropriately, in a tight black dress that barely covers her behind, her nails blood red and claw-like. My mom would scoff at me associating with this woman and remind me to never dress like this if I want any respect.

_ Welcome to Star Cove, Prue.

I smile.

_ Thank you. It's beautiful here.

_ UH Huh. So, Prue, I see here that you've been hired for housekeeping and guest services.

"What?" I snap. "No. Out in the open," I correct her.

_Well, it doesn't say that here. See?_ She taps the screen with her fingernail. All my information (my home address, social security number, even my photo) is there, as well as a line that, of course, says the position requested is "Housekeeping and Guest Services."

_ That has to be a mistake. When we spoke on the phone, you confirmed Outdoor.

I can't spend the summer cleaning bathrooms. And sheets! I'll go crazy. She frowns. At least, I think she frowns. Her brow doesn't actually wrinkle.

_ A mistake like that would be a first for us.

_ Well, can you fix it? _ I'm a little panicked now.

_I'll look at it_ She doesn't seem worried at all_ For now, stand there so we can take a picture of you.