20. Henrik
TWENTY
HENRIK
Hearing from Carina the day after our game and pizza night failure turned my mood right side up.
Siren
Henrik
Me
Hey, beautiful. How are you?
Siren
I’m good. I was hoping to visit you at the docks during lunch, but something has come up with work, and I’ll have to put in some longer hours this week.
Me
Something came up? Good or bad?
Siren
Good. So, so, so good. I’ll tell you all about it once I have more details, but it’s very exciting.
Happy for her, I feel a smile spread across my face. My siren loves her job, so I can’t wait to hear her good news.
Me
Awesome. I can’t wait. When do you think that’ll be?
Siren
Saturday at the earliest. I can’t imagine it’ll spill over into the weekend.
Me
Okay, but I’m claiming the entire day.
Siren
It’s all yours. We can call it Henrik’s Day.
Me
I like the sound of that. I’ll miss you this week.
Siren
I’ll miss you too. Think of what you want to do on Saturday. I’m up for anything.
Me
Are you sure you want to give me carte blanche?
Siren
Tell me what time and what to wear, and I’ll be ready for whatever you plan.
Me
Perfect
I hear from Carina sporadically. But she still hasn’t told me any details about her exciting work opportunity.
We’ve been spending most of our free time together, and with the sudden change in that, I’m at a loss.
It’s strange to think how attached I’ve already grown to her.
My days are duller without her in them, and I find myself retreating into my old grouchy ways.
I’m not sure when I abandoned them, but I know she’s responsible.
She is the light to my dark, and although we haven’t been dating long, I already know she’ll have a lasting effect on my life.
For the last two days, from eight in the morning to eight at night, I’ve spent my day on the Brina. When you own a fishing boat, there is always work to be done. She’s a workhorse, and because of that, repairs are almost a constant when we’re docked.
I’m lucky, though. I grew up watching my dad work on the Brina, and I learned the ins and outs of her from him.
She is my longest relationship, other than Eirik and my family.
I know her intimately. All her noises, nuances, and quirks.
I expect her to be a constant in my life for another few decades, so I make small repairs and do yearly maintenance, hoping to avoid large, expensive fixes in the future.
This morning when I show up to work, a man dressed in business casual is standing on the dock next to the Brina.
He looks out of place, and that puts me on the defense quickly.
The closer I get, the more confused I become.
Seeing that it’s winter, I’m not surprised by his thick coat, but the slacks tucked into a pair of well-used Xtratuf boots have me thrown.
He’s half businessman, half fisherman. My mind can’t make heads or tails of it.
“Morning. Can I help you?” I ask when I reach our slip.
The man, who looks to be in his sixties, has a full gray beard, and he offers me a smile. “Morning. Are you the captain of the FV Brina?”
“I am.” My answer is quick. I don’t know if he’s a boat broker, a fisherman looking for work, or a salesperson trying to push the next best gadget, but he makes me uneasy.
“Great. My name is Cody, and I work for NOAA.” With this information, my tight posture relaxes. “As a crab fisherman, I’m sure you’ve heard of the yearly bottom trawl surveys. It’s where we gather a species count of the crabs in the Bering Sea.”
I nod, because those surveys determine whether we have a fishing season. Since the crash of the opilio crab population, the trawl surveys by NOAA and the state have given us a red light on fishing snow crab for the past two years. “Yeah. Of course I know about the surveys. Is that why you’re here?”
He nods. “I’m new to the team this year, and I’ve been tasked with securing the fishing vessels that will assist us this summer for this year’s study. I was wondering if you were interested. We would provide reimbursement for your and your crew’s time and the use of the boat.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you have a contract? I would need to talk to my dad. He’s the majority owner of the boat.”
Clearing his throat, he answers, “That’s understandable. I know many of the boats are family-owned and operated.” Opening a folder, he pulls out some paperwork. “I’ll give you this contract to review. We’re on a time crunch, and we need a commitment soon.”
“I can have an answer to you by Monday, if that’s acceptable.”
“That’s great. Do you know any other crabbers who might be interested in helping us out and earning supplemental funds?”
I smile. “Do you have a moment? I can call Eirik Anderson. His family owns the FV Emilie, and I’m sure they would take your offer under consideration. He took part in the survey last year. In fact, he’s probably here at the docks right now.”
“That would be appreciated. It’d be great to secure another boat.”
I send Eirik a quick text.
Me
Come to the Brina.
Eirik
On my way. I just got to the harbor.
Five minutes later, Eirik strolls up and I introduce him to Cody.
He’s also interested in the contract if his dad agrees again this year.
Once Cody has answered all our questions and left us with his business card and some paperwork, we discuss the details and how we best feel we can sell the idea to the patriarchs of our families.
Eirik rubs his chin and smiles. “Why don’t we invite them to lunch and we can all discuss it together?”
Two hours later, we’ve eaten, discussed, and signed contracts with NOAA to serve as research boats for the bottom trawl survey. Now, I have some exciting news of my own to share with Carina. Saturday can’t come soon enough.
When Saturday finally arrives, I’m beside myself with excitement. During the week, I missed Carina so much. I’ve planned the entire day for us. Knocking on her apartment door at nine, I hold a white chocolate mocha, and since it’s February, I got her a donut with frosting and heart sprinkles.
The sound of her disengaging lock stirs up my excitement.
With a smile plastered to my face, I bounce on the tips of my toes and wait for the door to open.
When it finally does, Carina takes my breath away.
Her long blonde hair is down. Soft curls lay across her shoulders.
Drawing my attention to her face, I see she’s wearing a shimmery gloss that makes her perfect lips sparkle. I lick my own lips. I want a taste.
“Morning,” she whispers.