6. Carina
SIX
CARINA
Lost in a new education pamphlet I’m designing, my fingers work quickly over my keyboard as I add in key information my boss requested.
Grouped in a pod, I’ve become familiar with the coworkers in the cubicles next to me.
We aren’t close by any means. Like me, their jobs are more administrative than scientific and don’t require us to interact often.
Except for Cassie; she and I share some of the education responsibilities like field trip tours and visits to local schools.
Sally and Stephen, the others in our pod, work in finance.
The incessant ringing of Cassie’s desk phone causes me to lose focus, and I look up. Just as I’m about to answer her line, I notice it’s noon, and she’s at lunch. Once the phone ceases ringing, I stand and lean into her cubicle, forwarding her phone to voicemail.
“Going to lunch?” Stephen asks.
“I am.”
He rises, grabs my fleece coat from the coat rack, and holds it open for me.
Standing, I realize just how close he is. Quickly shoving my arms in the sleeves, I spin around, giving us some distance, and force a smile. “Thank you, Stephen.” Our gazes connect, and he nods.
“Are you going to the docks? That’s where you go, right?” he asks.
Unsure how he knows that, I grow uncomfortable. Not wanting to be rude, I smile and offer him a polite “yes.”
Moving closer, he asks, “Do you go every day? Why?” For someone who keeps mostly to myself, his questions feel intrusive and pushy. This isn’t any of his business. Why does he care?
I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I’m not sure how to answer, so I nod. “I go most days. My dad works down there.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize. Sorry, I guess I know very little about you. You’re kind of shy.”
“I am,” I answer as I tug on my blonde hair.
Not being the most confident in conversations with the opposite sex, I start to sweat.
Throughout my life, I’ve always been on the periphery.
Guys only spoke to me when they needed my help with school.
My brain spins at warp speed, trying to understand what’s happening.
Is this a normal conversation? It feels charged, but I don’t understand why.
And then he steps closer and clears his throat.
“You know we could change that. I could take you to dinner.” Wait.
He’s asking me out on a date, right? I’m not sure how to reply.
Looking up at his face, I study his features.
He has deep brown eyes and short brown hair.
His smile is kind. Stephen is attractive, but I don’t feel any pull toward him. Not like I do with Henrik.
I shift nervously under his gaze. He deserves an answer, but my words stay locked up tight.
What would Stacy do? I ask myself, referring to my best friend from college.
She befriended me during our freshman year, and to this day, I’m not sure why.
She was popular and outgoing, and I was the exact opposite—shy and solitary.
Even with nothing in common, our friendship worked. She’d say I was the yin to her yang.
Remaining mute, I realize I still haven’t given him an answer.
His eyes darken with concern. What would Stacy do?
I push myself again. And this time, I know her answer instantly.
Say yes. One man is here asking you out.
The other doesn’t even know you exist. The truth of that stings, but the Stacy in my head is right.
Life isn’t a fantasy like in the books I read.
I need to sidestep those and start living.
I don’t want to be a bystander anymore. It’s time for me to be an active participant in my life.
It’s up to me to go after what I want—love, romance, and a family. Okay, here goes.
My palms sweat as I fidget with my hands. I can’t recall the last time I was asked out. It must have been years ago when I was still in college. Timidly, I finally answer, “Going out to dinner would be nice.”
His smile widens, making him more attractive, but instead of excitement, I feel nothing.
I expected butterflies in my stomach, the uptick of my heartbeat, and a dry-mouth sensation, but none of that happened.
Maybe I need to stop reading so many romance books.
Apparently, I’ve created an unrealistic image of what I should experience when interacting with a handsome man who’s interested in me.
Stephen and I swap numbers before I take my mile walk to the marina.
As soon as my feet touch the wooden walkway of the harbor, my heart skips a beat.
I head to my favorite spot, lean over the rail, and stare into the ocean.
Calmness washes over me. I suck in a huge, cleansing breath.
Nowhere on Earth makes me feel better than here.
When I’m at the edge of the ocean, taking in all her mystery and wonder, I can finally relax and breathe.
Nothing weighs on me as I lose myself in her beauty and power.
She’s mesmerizing, and it only takes a moment for me to get lost in her allure.
My gaze dances along the surface of the water and how calm she is.
The gentle slap of her waves against the wooden dock makes me think.
Last night, I heard on the weather channel that there would be severe storms in the Bering Sea.
My heart stutters. Is Henrik safe? At the thought of the crabbers’ dangerous working conditions, I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze.
Knowing the industry has changed, become safer, allows me to breathe easier.
I know life can change in the blink of an eye.
I learned that as a child. When I was ten, my father lost his twin brother, Jakob.
Like my father, his job was in the fishing industry.
Instead of staying safe and working the docks like my dad, he chased the promise of a giant payday, fishing for Alaskan red king crab.
Even as an experienced crabber, he paid for that decision with his life when he was washed overboard by a rogue wave.
His death had rocked our family to its core.
My dad was devastated. My mom was panicked, and I became terrified.
Years later, we’re all still suffering from it.
Before early two thousand, the crabbing industry differed from how it operates today.
All the boats participating in the season fight to see who could harvest the most crab in the shortest amount of time.
The season was a derby-style race until two thousand and five when the crab rationalization program was instituted.
Crews were overworked, exhausted, and stressed, which led to unnecessary injuries and deaths, like my uncle Jakob.
Losing his twin changed my father. My mom said he pulled away for some time because he was unable to deal with his grief.
When I was twelve, I lured him back when I became obsessed with the ocean and Jacques Cousteau.
Selecting him for a school project, I spent hours learning about his life and his research vessel, the Calypso.
Learning about the sea prompted many questions, and since my dad worked at the docks, I assumed he’d be the right person to ask.
During my research, we discovered our local library had the complete series of The Jacques Cousteau Odyssey.
Dad and I spent several hours watching all twelve episodes several times.
He was as enamored with the ocean as I was.
However, sometimes when talking about the sea, he’d get angry.
When I asked him about it, he told me that although he loved the ocean; it had stolen a part of him, and he’d forever be incomplete.
I didn’t understand the depth of that grief until much later.
When I was in college, during an Introduction to Marine Biology class, my teacher shared a Jacques Cousteau quote with us.
It is something that will forever resonate with me.
“The Sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.” To celebrate the completion of my degree, I had that quote tattooed across my rib cage.
The sound of boots crunching on the snow alerts me to a visitor. “Care Bear,” my dad says. The familiar nickname I’ve had since childhood warms my heart. He pulls me into his side.
Snuggled up against him, I’ve never felt more protected. “Hey, Dad. How are you?” I answer back.
He gives me his big, tenderhearted smile. “I’m good. You?” My dad is the greatest.
“I’m good too. And now that’s out of the way, are you ready for the hard question?” I tease.
His deep laugh vibrates through me where I’m pressed to his side. “Shoot.”
“What did you bring for lunch?” I ask, eyeballing the tote he’s holding with his glove-covered hands.
He smiles and holds up the tote. “This?” I nod. “Your mom is an angel. She packed me the best lunch. Homemade loaded potato soup and bread.”
“Yum. That sounds so perfect for a day like today.” It isn’t too cold, but there’s a dense layer of fog hanging over the harbor, making it spooky.
“I agree. It’ll warm these old bones.” He laughs. My dad has the best laugh. It’s rich, hearty, and warms your soul. “Where’re your hat and gloves, young lady?” he says teasingly.
I playfully scoff. “I figured you’d ask. I left them at home this morning. I’m fine. I have pockets and a hood if I get desperate.” He laughs again, recognizing my tone.
“Your mom would be upset if I didn’t ask.” He’s right. I’d rather face his interrogation than hers.
Sitting down on a bench, he asks, “Any plans this weekend? Your mom was going to cook a roast and wanted to know if you were coming over.”
Looking down at the deep, dark water, I shrug my shoulders and give a noncommittal “maybe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He turns to me, his voice heavy with concern.
I never say no to their dinner invites. Even at twenty-nine, I still crave family dinners.
It’s one of the best things about coming home.
At seventeen, I couldn’t wait to get off this island and experience life, but now that I have, I’m over it, and I’m glad I had a reason to come home.
When I’d heard about the drastic decreasing numbers of opilio crabs two years ago, I felt a call to come back here. I was lucky to find a position at KFCR.
Kicking my feet, I lean back and mumble, “I sort of have a date. I think.”
He makes a gruff, unrecognizable sound. “Sort of? Why don’t you sound certain?”
Confused, I make a humming sound in the back of my throat. “Umm… I mean, I have a date, but I’m not sure what day or… even if I want one.”
I look over at my father, and his eyes are bright with recognition. “I see.” A silent moment passes between us, and then he nudges me. “Do you like this guy?”
Again, I shrug my shoulders. “He’s… fine.”
“Wow. That’s a rave review. Why’d you say yes if you weren’t interested?”
I drop my head, and he rubs my back. “Care Bear. What’s going on?”
“Dad, I’m almost thirty and I’ve only had one boyfriend, and that relationship only lasted a month.
I’ve only been asked on five dates, counting this one with Stephen.
” I hear the sadness in my voice. My shoulders sink as I admit my fears.
Fears that I’ve held for years. What if I never find the one?
“I’m wondering if I’m being too picky or unrealistic in my dating expectations. ”
He stops rubbing my back and pushes my head up so I have to look him in the eyes.
“Darling, just because you haven’t found the one your heart yearns for doesn’t mean he’s not out there.
He’s on his own journey to find you, and maybe he’s not ready to handle what a smart, beautiful, kind, and loving woman you are.
When you find each other, you’ll know. I promise you’ll feel it in every fiber of your being. ”
I immediately think of Henrik. Hearing my dad’s words, a smile spread across my face.
“What’s that look for?” he asks.
I smirk. “I just never knew you were the romantic in your and mom’s relationship. I’m a little surprised.”
He grins.
Staring out at the sea again, I ask, “But you really believe that?”
His deep voice is resolute when he answers. “I do. So maybe go out with this Stephen guy and see how he makes you feel. If you don’t get butterflies, maybe it’s better to be friends.”
“That’s great advice, Dad. Thank you. I love you.”
“Love you too, Care Bear,” he says as he hugs me before he heads back to work. He never even ate his lunch, and my sandwich is still tucked in my pocket as I start back to KFCR. Talks with my dad always lighten my mood.
Smiling, I remember an elementary class is coming in for a field trip this afternoon.
I love to watch the kids experience the touch tank and when they ask plenty of questions about the sea and the sea mammals we have in and around Kodiak.
Their visit should be invigorating and the best way to end the workday.