Martha shrugged. She was beginning to find Sidney amusing. "I think you're the boss."
Sidney slapped his knee. "Smart girl," he said.
"Woman," retorted Martha. She'd already decided that she didn't want to sell bagels for a living.
He laughed again. He laughed a lot. She thought he regarded her with new respect.
"Can we talk about the job, Martha? I mean, that's why you're here, right?"
"I'm not sure I'm interested." Chalk it up to a wasted morning. There had been others.
"What if I make it worth your while?" Sidney asked. That shrewd look again; it surprised her, interspersed as it was with so many smiles and so much laughter.
"How much worth my while?" she inquired with what she knew was a distinctly skeptical rise of the eyebrows.
"Listen to what I have to say, Martha, that's all I'm asking."
He looked so sincere that she gave him her full attention.
"It's a fairly simply operation," Sidney went on. "We use our own bagels, but I order all other supplies. I get my lox from a place in Los Angeles. Jelly I order, cream cheese, all of it. The operator of each Bagel Barn submits an order to me every week. I ship the supplies the fastest way. Each operator has to keep careful records, of course."
"Which is why your employees have to have experience in retail, right?"
"Sure. It helps to know a lot about the way a retail business works. And pleasing the customers is important, real important. I want everyone to know that when they eat bagels from a Bagel Barn they also get a pleasant smile and a cheery thank you from a pretty girl—er, woman, woman," he said hastily when she shot him a meaningful look.
"Go ahead," she said.
"That's about it. Do you want the job?" Sidney leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head.
"Just like that?"
"Sure. I like you. You've got a good background and you're pretty. Plus you look good in a dress."
"I don't understand why you need a person with a degree in business administration to sell bagels in a Bagel Barn," said Martha. "Anyway, you haven't mentioned a salary."
"I'm not just looking for a salesperson, Martha. I'm looking for someone who can be my vice president and administrative assistant here at Sidney Pollov Enterprises. Who can travel around the country and untangle problems that arise at my various Bagel Barns. I've got forty-four Bagel Barns all over the country."
"So many!"
"They open in Cape Cod in the summer and close in Cape Cod in the winter. They open in Key West in the winter but close in Key West in the summer. I have to travel, Martha, you wouldn't believe it. Last week I had to run down to New Orleans and hire a new person to operate the local Bagel Barn because the last one quit. Took me a week, and in the meantime everything else went to pot. Can you travel?"
"Yes, if necessary."
"Good. That's important. You'll be in charge of hiring. Managing my personnel is another worry. These girls—women, I mean. They have problems. They want to tell me about their kids, their husbands, and I don't have time to hear it. I have a wife and four kids that I love very much. I want to spend more time with them, and this business is killing me."
Martha took a deep breath. "You still haven't mentioned a salary."
He named a figure that made Martha's eyes pop.
"After you've learned the business, in six months or so, you'll get a raise. In a year, if we're both happy with the arrangement, I'll cut you in on the profits. I'm going to have to hire regional supervisors before long. Then you can supervise the supervisors."
"You'll cut me in on the profits? Do you mean it?"
"Sure. You help build it up, you deserve it. Soon you can run the Bagel Barn division of Sidney Pollov Enterprises. I'm going to expand; I'm going to open a chain of Thai take-out places soon. I'm going to call it Thai One On."
"Right," Martha said doubtfully.
"The point, Martha, is that I need you."
"Sidney, this is all... just a bit more than I expected," she said.
"I'll put everything in writing just to keep it kosher."
It was sounding better all the time. This looked like a ground-floor opportunity, certainly better than anything else she'd found.
"When would I start work?"
"Monday."
Martha thought about how she could now move out of Lindsay's house, leaving the field clear for Sigmund and his crystals. She thought about her dwindling savings account. She thought about moving into a cute little apartment in one of the city's historic old wooden houses. A pink one.
"Then you leave Monday. Is it settled? You'll work with me?" He looked pathetically eager.
"Leave? You didn't say anything about leaving."
"Well, I guess I forgot to mention it. You know I need you to set up the newest Bagel Barn. I've done all the groundwork. All that needs doing is to get the place started, hire a helper, and run it all summer. That way you get a good idea about how a Bagel Barn works and know what the problems are. Nothing like hands-on training experience, I always say."
The man's rambling was exasperating to say the least. It was a constant challenge to hold him to the topic at hand.
"But Sidney, where is this newest Bagel Barn?"
"Ketchikan, Alaska," he said.
Martha stared at him. The vision of her own apartment in one of San Francisco's historic wooden houses crumbled away, leaving her with the image of an igloo, which was not her idea of a habitable dwelling for a sophisticated, college-educated woman of twenty-seven. "Alaska?" she said, unable to believe it.
"Alaska," he replied.
As far as Martha was concerned, he might as well have said, "The end of the world."
Chapter 2
Martha felt unexpected awe at the vastness of the Alaskan landscape as her plane, a regularly scheduled airliner, penetrated the shroud of fog overlying the city. To Martha, in the brief glimpse she caught of it as the plane bounced down on the runway, Ketchikan didn't look like much. Squat, square buildings, precariously perched on the rocky shore, seemed to lean off the edge of Revillagigedo Island into the water of the Tongass Narrows. Across the Narrows were the docks where she would begin setting up the newest Bagel Barn.
"Chistochina, Yakutat, Levelock, Nome," Martha chanted under her breath as the plane taxied toward the terminal. These were the names she'd read on a map of Alaska, and she liked the way they rolled off her tongue. She'd taken to reciting them to herself on the flight from San Francisco in a kind of litany of reassurance.
She rode a ferry from the airport, which was located on a separate island, across the Narrows to the neighboring island whose name was conveniently shortened to "Revilla" by the locals. If only Lindsay could see this country, Martha thought wistfully as she took in the majestic mountains and the utter immensity of the land, but then she had second thoughts. Lindsay had clearly thought that Martha was crazy to be going.
"You can't be serious," Lindsay said when Martha told her about Sidney's stunning offer.
"But I am," Martha had said calmly.
"Then he can't be serious. What on earth is in Ketchikan, Alaska, anyway?"
"The newest Bagel Barn. Sidney says that big cruise ships stop in Ketchikan all summer long. He says that it's a great place for a Bagel Barn. He says—"
"Please don't tell me anything else that Sidney says," groaned Lindsay. "Obviously the guy has quite a line of persuasion." She plumped up her pillow; she was propped up in bed.
Martha peered up at Lindsay from her perch on the floor, where she sat with her hands locked around her knees. "I believe in him, Lindsay," Martha said quietly. "He's making a success of his own original idea. He needs my help."
"But how are you going to handle selling bagels to tourists all summer? It's not something you've ever done before. Maybe you'll hate it. Do you realize that you've been chewing on the skin next to your thumbnail again? You know that's one habit of yours that drives me crazy."
Martha inspected he
r thumb, where the skin beside the nail resembled shredded wheat. She always chewed on the skin beside her nails when she was nervous. She clamped her other fingers around the offending thumb so that Lindsay wouldn't have to look at it.
"Martha, are you sure you haven't bitten off more than you can chew?"
When Martha started to laugh, Lindsay colored and said, "I didn't mean that as a joke. It's just that I don't understand how you can give up San Francisco for igloos, polar bears and who knows what else?"
"This is spring going on summer. There aren't any igloos and polar bears in the southeastern Alaska panhandle, at least from what Sidney tells me. Sidney says—"
"No more 'Sidney says,'" Lindsay warned darkly.
"It won't snow in Ketchikan in the summer, and it's a tourist town. There's lots of rain, though. I need to take all the rain gear I can get my hands on. It rains an average of a hundred and sixty-two inches a year, can you believe it? Why, even Seattle only gets a dry thirty-nine inches."
"Ketchikan is a tourist town and it rains all the time. Lovely. Martha, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Lindsay's eyes, very serious now, searched her friend's face.
"Yes, Lindsay. After all, I'm a creature of impulse. Now are we going to go to sleep or are we going to stay up all night lamenting my decision to work for Sidney?"
"I guess we'd better get some sleep. My Mrs. Claussen is coming in first thing tomorrow morning. Say, I've heard Alaskan men are awesome."
"According to you, all men are awesome."
"Well, parts of them, anyway."
After that, Martha had retreated to the guest room, but it wasn't as though she was sure that she'd done the right thing. All night her eyes kept flicking open. She'd look at the clock and think, Ketchikan, Alaska? before trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to go back to sleep.
But here she was on a ferry in Ketchikan, smoothing the wrinkles out of the full skirt of her dress. She'd only brought this particular dress because she was bringing every dress she owned to wear when she worked at the Bagel Barn. Dresses with a little red-checkered apron were the Sidney-approved uniform. It was the first thing she'd change when Sidney put her in charge of whatever.
She was met at the ferry dock by the representative of the local rent-a-dent company, who handed her keys to a cumbersome Lincoln that had seen better days. The man, whose name was Ernie Nogoluk, was friendly and helpful. He went out of his way to give her directions to the small apartment that Sidney had rented for her.
"It's not like you can get too lost," he said. "The road out of town doesn't go anywhere."
"I beg your pardon?" Martha said, impatiently brushing unwelcome curls off her forehead. She'd had her hair straightened only last month, and now look at it.
"What I mean," said Ernie Nogoluk, "is that the road isn't connected with another road. It stops. The only way into Ketchikan is by air or sea."
"I remember reading that," said Martha. A light rain began to fall; car headlights crisscrossed through the fog.
"I hope you enjoy your stay in Ketchikan," he said.
"I'm sure I will," Martha replied before driving away in the rain. As she fumbled with the unfamiliar windshield-wiper switch, she thought to herself, I'd better enjoy Ketchikan. It's not as though I can just drive away from it. Despite her underlying sense of excitement, she didn't remember ever feeling more alone in her life.
She drove slowly through streets slick with rain, peering with interest at the neat boxy buildings and the flower-festooned lampposts that added a welcome bit of color to the wet and gloomy landscape. She found the duplex apartment without any trouble. It was located in a green shingled house not far from a park. The house was built on stilts.
"Probably so it won't flood," Martha muttered to herself as she wrestled her two big suitcases up the open wooden stairs in the rain.
Inside, the apartment had one bedroom, a neat efficiency kitchen with all the necessary equipment, and a combination living-and-dining room. The big picture window overlooked a park with tall Sitka spruce trees and winding foot trails, and brightly colored tulips graced the front yard. Martha immediately turned on the heat in hopes of dispelling the chill in the air. She wondered who lived in the bigger apartment of the duplex. She certainly hoped it was someone pleasant. Newly aware of her aloneness in this strange place, she thought she'd like to meet people who might become friends.
After Martha unpacked, she put on an old pair of flannel pajamas and fell into the comfortable double bed. The apartment hadn't warmed up much, and there was nothing to eat until she could go shopping in the morning. Her supper consisted of two chocolate-chip cookies. Martha munched them with the damp bed covers pulled up to her chin for warmth. The cookies reminded her of home.
"I'm a creature of impulse," she reminded herself just before she fell asleep, and she barely had enough time to wonder just what her impulsiveness had gotten her into now.
* * *
Putting up a Bagel Barn on the Front Street dock in a drizzle was definitely not one of her talents, Martha decided the next day as she struggled with the sides and roof of the thing. It was a bleary rain that blurred the outlines of the mountains in the distance and even the stores across the street. Martha blamed herself for believing Sidney when he told her that erecting a Bagel Barn would be easy.
"The bolts are already in place; a smart, resourceful girl—uh, woman—like you should have absolutely no trouble," Sidney had said when he'd showed her how to do it. Never mind that showing her how had taken place in his garage in Berkeley with his two oldest children helping. He had assured her that the Bagel Barns were designed for a woman to put together all by herself.
Clearly Sidney—or, for that matter, Martha herself—hadn't anticipated that in Ketchikan Martha's fingers would be numb with cold, that her hair would keep escaping from the hood of her rain poncho, or that more than one bolt would be missing from the standard Bagel Barn assembly kit. What should have taken her two hours had now taken more than four, and there was no end in sight. She didn't know what she would do when it came time to bolt on the roof.
She would have quit midway through the task except that she wanted the Bagel Barn to be open tomorrow when the Trondheim, the biggest cruise ship to call at the Ketchikan port, would anchor in the harbor.
"Looks like you need some help," remarked a boy who had been watching her from a dry spot beneath the overhang at the nearby Chamber of Commerce information booth.
"Either that or I'd better wait until it stops raining to finish this job," huffed Martha, peering at him from behind a sodden lock of hair. He was a short teenager with dark, slanted eyes, an olive complexion, and a wide smile.
The boy laughed. "If you wait for it to stop raining, you may never finish the job," he said. "Let me see what I can do." With that he stepped into the rain, bent over, made an expert adjustment to the bolt with which Martha had been struggling for the last ten minutes and thus closed the gap between the side and front walls of the Bagel Barn.
"How would you like a job helping me put up the rest of the booth?" Martha asked in desperation.
His smile widened even more. "That would be great."
"I'll pay you," she said.
"You wouldn't have to." The boy shifted back and forth on his feet.
"Fifty dollars if you'll help me put the roof on," she offered.
"It's a deal, lady."
"My name's Martha. And yours is—?"
"Randy. Randy Gallahorn."
"Okay, Randy. I'll stand on the ladder and you can hand the roof pieces up to me. Then, when I have it balanced, you can bolt the roof to the sides."
The teenager's efficiency almost halved the time needed to bolt the lightweight barn-shaped roof in place. Martha paid Randy his fifty dollars, and as she plugged the small refrigerator and toaster oven into the electrical outlet provided by the city, Randy lingered. He looked reluctant to leave, standing quietly with his shoulders hunched against the light drizzle and watching her as she worked.<
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"There," she said with satisfaction. "All finished and ready to lock up. I'll open the Bagel Barn tomorrow."
"Are you going to need any more help? I mean I've been looking for a job, and if you could use me—" His eyes petitioned hopefully.
"Why," Martha said, "I will need help once I get things going. I'll need someone to work here when there are a lot of customers and to take over when I can't be here. Have you ever worked in a restaurant?"
"I'm afraid not," Randy said.
That shouldn't be a strike against him. Neither had she.
"This isn't exactly like a restaurant," she told him. "I suppose you know how to toast a bagel."
"Nope. They look like doughnuts, that's all I know."
Martha blinked. "You've never eaten a bagel?" She, who had grown up eating bagels at home, bagels with cream cheese, bagels layered with lox and capers and onions, bagels with peanut butter, bagels slathered with butter and honey, could not imagine this.
The boy looked like an Alaskan Native, probably Tlingit Indian. A large community of Tlingits lived here, Sidney had told her. Martha had no idea what kind of diet was prevalent among Tlingits, but it was high time this boy discovered bagels.
"I'll fix you one." Martha popped a bagel into the toaster oven and tore open a package of cream cheese. "Would you like lox on it?"
"Lox?" He looked confused.
"It's fish. Salmon."
"Oh, I've had salmon before. I've had lots of salmon," he said. "This town started out as a fishing village. We call Ketchikan the Salmon Capital of the World. Sure, I'll try it."
Martha expertly assembled the bagel.
"You mean you brought your own salmon?" he asked skeptically, looking over her shoulder as Martha layered on the lox.
"Sure," she said. "My boss orders it."
Randy looked doubtful, but he took the bagel anyway. Martha waited for Randy's assessment.
"Well, what do you think?" she said after he'd tucked away a few bites.
"I think bagels are going to be a big hit," he said with either enthusiasm or gratitude. She wasn't sure which.
Kisses in the Rain Page 2
