2. Carina
TWO
CARINA
TEN MONTHS EARLIER
Iarrived home to Kodiak last month. As I sit on the dock, I think about my journey here.
I came back because I’d heard that the state had canceled the opie season, and millions of crabs had vanished.
Looking around the harbor, I see everything is quiet.
It’s like a ghost town. Normally, during this time of the year, the crabbing crews would have just returned from king crabbing and would’ve been preparing for opie season.
My mind focuses on one particular crabber—Henrik Berg.
He was my high school crush. The fact that he was three years older than me didn’t matter.
And even though he was broody and everyone said he was a grump, there was something about him that made my heart flutter.
He seemed more mature than most of the other high school guys.
He was ruggedly handsome, with a chiseled jawline.
He was tall—over six feet—and well-muscled.
A loner, he seemed to only interact with a few select people.
He didn’t know I existed, but I got close enough once and saw that his eyes were the deepest blue I’d ever seen.
I can still picture them when I close my eyes. They’re just like the ocean.
And even over a decade later, and a move to San Diego, my fascination with Henrik has endured. No other man can compare to him.
The deep, dark ocean spreads as far and wide as I can see.
Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath, grounding myself to this spot.
I take a moment to center myself. Wiggling my toes first, I notice my shoes are damp from the few inches of snow we got yesterday.
Being January, there’s a chill in the air.
I run my fingers up my coat’s zipper, making sure it’s closed.
I feel the sting of the wind on my face.
My lips are sore and chapped. I lick them, trying to ease my discomfort, tasting the salt in the ocean air.
My heart sings. This place, the ocean, is my happy place and somewhere I always gravitate to no matter where I travel.
When I got back to town, I was drawn to the harbor like usual, but this time it felt different. The pull was stronger and more intense than ever before. My heart yearned to be there like it was a piece of me that I hadn’t realized was missing.
Driving to the harbor this morning, I’d assumed it was because of my passion for marine life, but no, I’d been wrong.
As soon as my gaze found him, I knew. Henrik Berg.
He’s something more to me. That crush that festered deep within me since I was fifteen pulled itself from the deep trenches where I had buried it, making its presence known.
When I’d seen him, my knees went weak, and despite the chill in the air, my cheeks went hot and red.
The distance between us hadn’t lessened the effect he had on my body.
I’d stood taller, pushed out my chest, took out my braid, and fluffed my hair.
Channeling confidence I didn’t always feel, I’d smiled.
A minute later, when he and Eirik walked past me, I’d tried to catch his eye, but only Eirik noticed me.
Disappointed, my heart flinched and my shoulders dipped.
But despite my hurt, I’d refused to miss an opportunity.
Being this close, and since he wasn’t paying attention to me, I’d openly gawked at the sexy-as-hell, grumpy fisherman.
With his strong jawline, perfectly trimmed stubble, reddish-blond hair, and sharp, ocean-blue eyes, he looked like a Viking warrior.
Dressed in a black t-shirt that hugged his massive chest, he wore jeans that looked like they were painted on his thick, muscular legs.
My heartbeat increased when I’d spied his hands.
They were big and strong, and I could imagine it would only take one touch from them to drive me wild.
But ultimately it was his brown rubber boots that did weird things to my insides and sent my heated body into overdrive.
My pulse had climbed, my hands sweated, and my mouth dried as I’d stared at the gorgeous man.
I’d wanted to run my fingers through the short strands of his windblown, yet effortlessly sexy hair.
His familiar scowl highlighted his perfect pink lips that I wanted to taste.
His allure was maddening. Yet as I’d stood there by the open harbor, winds circling me, the salty scent of the sea all around, my heart sank.
Because, in reality, it didn’t matter how many years had passed; there were two undeniable facts when it came to Henrik Berg.
He would always answer the call of the sea. And he would never truly notice me.
SEPTEMBER 2023-WEEKS BEFORE CRAB SEASON
Having been back in Kodiak for about nine months, I feel like an official resident again.
I reconnected with a few high school friends like Julia and Megan, who were still on the island.
They’d left for college too, but once they graduated, they’d returned to Kodiak to start their careers and families.
When I’d first arrived, we hung out occasionally, meeting up for coffee every so often.
I was thrilled to rekindle our friendships, but those excited feelings didn’t last long when I quickly learned my life wasn’t on the same track as theirs.
It was apparent we no longer had much in common and I was the oddball out.
The friendships stalled. But it was okay, because I’d met several nice people at my job with the Kodiak Fisheries Center of Research (KFCR).
Scientists and mostly loners, we have a great working relationship.
However, social events outside of work are awkward and uncommon.
With no close friends, island life is sometimes lonely.
Whenever I feel that way, I head over to the harbor.
I’ve become familiar with the schedule of the harbor; when it was busiest and when it was slow. Growing up on Kodiak, I know the fishing seasons and approximately when boats come and go. Fishermen make it easy; they’re creatures of habit.
And by visiting the docks every day, I began to recognize people.
“Good afternoon, Carina. Meeting your dad for lunch?” Harold, the seventy-three-year-old captain of the FV Harriet, asks as he passes me on his way to his slip.
He’s the sweetest man with the biggest heart.
I’d met him on one of my first visits to the dock after returning home.
I learned about his boat and how he proudly named it after his wife.
The look of love on his wrinkled face when he’d told me about their fiftieth anniversary had had my nose stinging as I tried and failed to hold back tears.
Giving him a smile and a wave, I reply, “I am. Are you heading out on the water?”
“Not today. I’ve got to get her ready for the weekend. My grandkids are coming to town, and they love to take Harriet out for an adventure whenever they visit.” The smile he’s wearing can hardly be contained as he shares his exciting news.
“That is fantastic, Harold.” I spot my dad approaching, and I wave at him. “I better go meet him. He has a short lunch.” He nods and turns away. “Harold,” I call out. He turns back. “I hope you have the best visit with your family. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Thank you,” he says before heading back down the dock.
My dad strolls up, his cheeks pink from his walk in the brisk air.
When we started our lunch dates shortly after I moved home and started working at KFCR, we’d decided this was the best place because it was convenient for both of us.
He raises a gloved hand. “Carina. I hope you weren’t waiting long. ”
I shake my head. “I got here a few minutes ago and then Harold and I were catching up.”
“Did you bring lunch? You know your mother packs more than enough to share.” He chuckles.
I slip my hand in the pocket of my winter coat and pull out a sandwich. “I’m good, thanks. How is Mom?”
He smiles. “She’s good; busy running your sisters around. Before I left for work, she asked me to invite you to dinner this Sunday.”
Not even a second later, my answer is leaving my mouth. “I’ll be there. I’ve been craving a good home-cooked meal.”
Dad laughs at me. “You know you’re welcome anytime. We live in the same town.”
“I know. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
He bumps shoulders with me. “You never could. Plus, it would be nice to have another sane adult in the house.” With my three teenage sisters at home, I can’t even imagine what everyday life is like. It has to be both emotional and dramatic. My poor parents.
Having lunch with my dad at least once a week has become a highlight of being home.
It’s something I look forward to and cherish.
I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and since I don’t live at home, our lunch meet-ups seem like the best option for spending time together.
We talk little while we eat, and instead, we silently enjoy the comfort of each other’s presence.
After Dad leaves, and with a few minutes left before I head back to work, I sit on a bench, observing everything going on around me. I notice the dock is busier than normal, and that only certain boats seem to be involved—the crabbers. And there, a few slips over, I see the Brina, Henrik’s boat.
Shortly after returning to Kodiak, I’d seen Henrik at the docks, interacting with his crew. His laughter and smile had done a number on me. And thinking back on it, it wasn’t special, but it reminded me that the stern, gruff man everyone knew wasn’t always that.
I knew the crabbers would have to depart soon, and every time I’ve thought about it, I’ve grown more uneasy.
Today is a visceral reminder of that. When I see Henrik, that unsettling feeling shifts to nausea, and I rub my stomach.
Where his scowl used to give me butterflies, it now plagues me with worry.
Having him go to sea will always be a worry for me.
As far as I know, he still doesn’t know who I am nor does he notice me around the docks.
But over the last few months, I’ve honed my focus.
I’ve studied him closely, in a non-stalkery way, of course.
He’s like my beloved marine creatures. I’ve learned his expressions and mannerisms, and I can see without a doubt Henrik Berg is incredibly interesting.
No matter who he comes across, he always gives a nod and brief greeting.
He’s fascinating, and I would give anything to know him better.
Hell, I’d be ecstatic if he knew my name.
During my lunch a few days later, when I’m walking around the docks and enjoying the crisp early fall day, I notice movement on the FV Brina.
As it’s Henrik’s family’s boat, I’m interested in what’s happening.
Like a racehorse, my heart gallops in my chest. Will I see him?
My anticipation grows, making my breathing short and choppy.
With days before the start of crabbing season, I get lucky and see Henrik and his crew.
Hiding behind a nearby boat, I watch them moving supplies and readying everything for their upcoming departure.
It’s impossible to miss the friendly exchanges, laughter, and lighthearted banter.
Their voices, woven together, carry sounds of happiness through the air.
Their shared comradery washes over me, leaving me feeling warm and calm.
When it grows silent, I inch forward, chancing a glace, and notice they’ve all disappeared inside the boat.
Just as I’m about to walk away, I hear a deep, smooth, and sexy voice, and it surrounds me.
I couldn’t make out what he said, but there was something familiar about it.
Poking my head out from my hiding spot, I see it’s Henrik.
My pulse skyrockets. He’s so close. Standing there eavesdropping, the caramel-smooth tone of his voice short-circuits my brain’s ability to process.
With my mouth agape, I stare up at the boat’s bow.
There, leaning against the railing, with his beanie pulled down, is the man of my dreams. He stares at the dock below with such intensity.
Grumbling, he straightens, and I note that he’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.
He’s effortlessly handsome, even though his eyes are tight and his lips are pinched into a thin line. He’s so serious and focused.
Are you okay?
Almost as if I spoke my thoughts aloud and he heard me, his gaze focuses in my direction.
However, I can’t tell if he sees me or is staring through me.
Either way, the interaction rocks me to my core, sending a shiver shooting down my back.
Nervous, I lick my lips and force a smile.
His deep growl and shaking head are alarming, and my heart races.
Just thinking I could earn such a response from him is unsettling.
Feeling off-kilter and needing to calm down, I close my eyes. Once I feel less scattered, I open them and focus on the water lapping around the nearby boat. Breathing slowly, I regulate myself to the motion of the waves. By the time I’m calm and look up again, Henrik is no longer by the rail.
I don’t know what to do or think.
My phone rings, breaking me out of the strange moment.
“Hello.”
“Carina, are you okay?” George, my boss, asks, sounding worried.
“Yeah. Why?” I reply, unsure why he sounds concerned.
“Because you’re over an hour late getting back from lunch, and you have a field trip group scheduled in fifteen minutes.”
That can’t be right. I pull my phone away from my ear to check the time, and he’s right. It’s two fifteen. “George, I am so sorry. I don’t know how I lost track of time, but I’m on my way back now. I’ll be there for the field trip.”
“Things happen, Carina. I’m just glad you’re fine. See you soon.”
I rush up the dock to my car, with Henrik still on my brain. My question about why he’d had such an effect on me will have to be answered later.