Crystal Caress

by Zuri Day

  “But that what you’re doing may affect your ability to be objective is most certainly mine. Why weren’t you at my son’s benefit this past weekend?”

  “I apologize for that, Mr. Campbell. Somehow I’d neglected to put the date on my calendar and was out of town.”

  “Yeah, probably in Anchorage,” Bill mumbled.

  “Quit being an asshole,” Teresa snapped.

  “That’s enough, Bill,” Benny replied. He fixed cool gray eyes on Teresa, his expression stern. “Now, I’ve made it clear how I want these stories on Alaska to lean and whom I want them to benefit. You have one more piece to write. I’ve instructed Gloria to pass that by my desk so that I can review it before it goes to press. Personally. Word by word.”

  “Okay. Is there anything else?”

  “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Very clear. Can I go now?”

  Teresa forced herself to walk calmly back to her cubicle. She was sure everyone knew about the impromptu closed-door meeting and would bet her next paycheck that as soon as Bill had the chance, he’d give his skewed version of what had transpired. In her mind’s eye she pictured Benny and Bill in the senior writer’s office, good old boys sure they’d laid down the law and put the little lady in her place. They might be thinking this, but they’d be wrong. Teresa had every intention of handling the last article the way she had the previous three: gather information, interview multiple sources, write the story. She may not have a job after defying Campbell’s orders, but she’d still have her integrity, and that was something that money couldn’t buy.

  Chapter 21

  Once in the car, Atka was the first person she called. She nibbled her bottom lip, waiting for him to answer the phone.

  “Teresa, hey, love!”

  “Hey, Atka, how are you?”

  “Better now, but still in the workday. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got news.”

  “You’re coming to Alaska?”

  “I might be.”

  “That’s great, babe! Did the paper give you the time off or will you be working from here?”

  “After I turn in my next article, I might not be working anywhere.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m not going to write the article praising his son that Benny Campbell just demanded.”

  “He demanded it?”

  “Pretty much.” She shared the conversation that had just taken place. “Bill is the main culprit behind it, spreading the rumors, stoking the fire.”

  “They’re not exactly rumors, babe.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “For starters, I’m going to ask if I can work from home. I know the office is buzzing about me. I can imagine going in there—sly glances, hushed whispers. I’d rather not be around.”

  “You can always come here.”

  “Oh, that move would really help quell the talking.”

  “Who has to know where you are? You’re going to ask for permission to work from home. Why can’t home be here?”

  “I don’t know. A part of me would love to see you, the other part feels like I’d be running away from my problems. I don’t do that.”

  “How you feel is a matter of perspective. I just want to be here for you, Teresa. But I can’t get away right now and even if I could, coming there doesn’t sound like an option.”

  “That they felt they could control me so callously made me angrier than Bill’s snide comments. And then for Mr. Campbell to basically threaten me, tell me to write the kind of article he wants or else. Working at the Chronicle is a really good opportunity, but given what’s happening, can I stay there, and if so, at what cost?” She sighed. “Maybe I should come up there. Take some time to clear my head and examine my options. I was hoping to put in at least a year at the paper, but maybe I can reach my goal of becoming an established journalist another way. These days there are many more avenues open to writers, especially online.”

  “Does that mean you’re coming?”

  “I’ll talk with Gloria. If she agrees to give me time off then yes, I’ll come see you. Can’t say how long I’ll be able to stay, but I’ll come and hang out.”

  “That’s beautiful, babe. Let me know when you want to come and I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”

  * * *

  “Dang, Tee, that’s messed up.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Sounds like old Bill needs a lesson on how to treat women.”

  “Calm down, Terrell. Right now I’m harboring enough anger for the both of us.”

  Teresa sat in Terrell’s office, behind closed doors at Drake Realty. She’d decided to stop there on the way home and get her twin’s perspective. It was one of the few times when his thoughts didn’t always mirror her own.

  She stood from the chair in front of her brother’s desk and went to the window. “What would you have done?”

  “Probably punched that chump’s lights out.”

  “I should just march in there and give them my notice. Be done with the BS.”

  Both were silent, knowing this wouldn’t happen. Drakes didn’t cower. They didn’t run. They didn’t quit.

  A slight tapping noise occurred on Terrell’s door before it opened. Ike Sr. walked in, stopping abruptly when he saw Teresa.

  “Hello, daughter. What are you doing here?”

  She took a breath. “I’m decompressing after a stressful morning.”

  He walked over to one of two chairs in front of Terrell’s desk. “Come sit down.” She did. “Talk to me.”

  She gave Ike the short version of what happened. The only outward sign of his ire was a clench of his jaw.

  “Bill’s actions don’t surprise me. He’s never liked us, or anybody, really, who’s making something of their life. But Benny...I’m disappointed that this is the stance he took.”

  “I want to handle it, Daddy.”

  “Did I say anything about handling anything?”

  “No, but given that you know Mr. Campbell and done business with him in the past, well, I just don’t want you to happen by him on the golf course and exchange a word or two.”

  A wisp of a smile scurried across Ike’s face. “The daughter Jen and I raised is more than capable of handling herself in any situation. That said, you do have ample backup if things get ugly.”

  Teresa knew her dad was trying to lighten the moment, but her mood remained dark. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Teresa, no one can say what another should or shouldn’t do in any given moment. Working as a journalist has been your dream since college. Whether or not our paper is where you continue to learn the ropes is for you to decide. All of that said, I can tell you what I’d do, which is examine the situation from all angles, ask myself what I really want, then go with my gut and follow my heart.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “For that little scrap of advice?”

  “That, but more so for not taking this opportunity to say I told you so, and argue how I should have stayed in the family business in the first place.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tee,” Terrell interjected. “That’s probably going to be his next conversation.”

  That night, Teresa tossed and turned with the weight of what she should really do. All the way until she’d gotten home, she was sure she’d turn in the article she wanted and if Campbell didn’t like it tell him to kiss her laptop. But her mother, balanced thinker that she was, had encouraged her daughter to not make any rash decisions and to look at the big picture.

  “Perhaps there is a way for all parties involved to get what they want,” she’d offered. “Maintaining your in
tegrity is something Ike and I have engrained in all of you. Most of you have listened, most of the time. If there is a way you can comfortably highlight Paul’s attributes and downplay the opposing views without eliminating them, then you can keep the position you worked so hard for and live to write another day.”

  The next morning, the only thing she’d decided for sure was that she didn’t want to work in the office. Thankfully, Gloria approved her request right away. “I’m sure Benny will be okay with it. Whatever you said to him calmed his ruffled feathers. He hinted that for your next travel piece, you could choose the destination.”

  Right after this call ended she called her doctor, and got the examination of her foot moved up to the next morning. Then she called Atka. “You just got your wish, mountain man. I’m on my way!”

  “It is only my wish?”

  “I’m kind of looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Kind of?”

  “A little bit.”

  “I see. Then when you arrive, I’ll love you...just a little bit.”

  “We’ll see.”

  They laughed.

  “When is your flight?”

  “I don’t know, just got off the phone with Gloria and found out my working from home is approved.”

  “In that case, let me handle it. Just pack, and then check your email. I’ll arrange a driver to and from the airport, and send your flight confirmation number once it’s confirmed. Don’t worry if you don’t have much to pack. I’ll buy you a new wardrobe. Whatever it takes to see you as soon as possible. If my day wasn’t filled with important meetings, I’d come and get you myself. I’m sorry about what happened at work, but have a good feeling about this. Everything will work out, Teresa. You’ll see.”

  “Oh, make sure it’s scheduled for the afternoon. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “If he gives me the green light to remove the brace and toss the crutches, everything will be fine.”

  * * *

  Less than twenty-four hours later, Teresa sat in a first-class seat on her way to Anchorage, sans crutches or brace. With no nonstop flights available, she’d changed planes in Seattle. When the plane landed, it was raining. All Teresa could do was smile.

  Seconds after arriving in Anchorage International Airport’s baggage claim, she spotted a driver holding a sign bearing her last name. She walked over and introduced herself. They shared a bit of small talk while waiting for her luggage and then exited the airport to his car parked nearby. He opened the door for her.

  She got in and squealed. “Atka!”

  Atka stopped texting and put away his phone. He enfolded Teresa in a long embrace. His arms around her were so comforting and felt so right that tears came to her eyes. Before she knew it, she was crying for real. This rarely happened. Her sister, London, was the emotional one. Teresa was not that girl. Not usually anyway. But the past two days of harsh journalistic reality had left her physically exhausted and her emotions raw. The coating of her family’s unconditional love had made coping easier. But in the warmth of Atka’s protective arms, with his heart beating soundly, rapidly against her chest, she felt truly safe and secure and for the first time since the meeting with Gloria, agreed with what he’d told her. That everything would be okay.

  This feeling lasted the afternoon, through the night and into the next morning—all the way until the time they arrived at his mother’s house.

  The Sinclair home was not unlike what she’d imagined, based on what Atka had shared about his family. It sat on several acres about ten miles outside Anchorage, a rambling, multilevel residence of wood and brick, with large plate-glass windows and a wraparound porch. A bright red barn and several shed-like buildings could be seen beyond what in the summer was probably a garden. Next to that plot of land sat a tractor and other farm machinery that Teresa couldn’t name. The houses and landscape looked totally different, but in some ways being here reminded her of her grandfather’s farm in a general kind of way. The mass area of land. The tractor and barn. The chickens she saw in a nearby coop. But the rush of warmth and love felt when stepping over the elder Drakes’ threshold was missing in this house. Two steps in and Teresa could feel the chill. Weather had nothing to do with it.

  “Cama-I, Atka! Cangacit?” His mother continued in their native language.

  He stopped her, and switched to English. “Mom, I am fine, and yes, it is too long between my visits. I’ll try to come more often. This is Teresa Drake, the girl from California I told you about. She’s come to visit me and will be here a few weeks. Teresa, this is my mother, Agatha Sinclair.”

  Teresa stepped forward, genuine smile and hand outstretched. “Hello, Mrs. Sinclair. It is so nice to meet you.”

  “Hello.” She, too, smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. “What part of California?”

  “Northern, in a town called Paradise Cove. It’s an hour or so away from the Oakland-San Francisco area. Have you ever been to California?”

  “What do you do there?”

  Teresa glanced at Atka. Was this attitude going to last her entire visit? She hoped not. “I’m a writer.”

  “Oh.”

  “Teresa did a series of articles on Alaska for her local paper. She came to Dillingham and wrote about the salmon industry. That’s how we met.”

  “Are you back to do another article?”

  Another glance at Atka, who gave his mom a patient stare. “Yes.”

  He put his arm around Teresa. “She is also here at my invitation, and as my special guest.”

  Agatha crossed her arms and quietly eyed her son.

  “Where is everybody, Mom?”

  In addition to his father, the youngest of his sisters, barely a year older than Atka, lived there along with her husband and two children. A niece and nephew who’d graduated from the University of Alaska at Anchorage also lived with his parents and worked in the city.

  “Working, mostly. Your dad is in town helping a neighbor. Vera is here. Vera!”

  Vera appeared at the top of the stairs, holding a baby. She looked at Atka. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “A pleasure to see you too, my sister,” Atka said as he watched her walk down the stairs. As she reached the bottom step, the baby held out her arms to Atka. He scooped her up. “Here’s one person who is always happy to see me. Hello, Bella.” He gave the baby a hug and kiss. “Vera, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Teresa. Teresa, this is Vera.”

  “Hi.” Vera stepped forward. “You’re very pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You live here? In Alaska?”

  “No, I live in California.”

  “How’d you meet Atka?”

  “It’s a long story,” Atka interrupted, “that I’d like to share over dinner. That is, if Mom plans on cooking a family meal this week.” He looked at her.

  “Only a simple meal. Nothing suitable for...guests.”

  “Then I’ll invite the gang out to join us in Anchorage, and whoever shows up will hear our love story.” He kissed Teresa’s temple. “We’re going to keep moving and head over to brother Max’s. Maybe see him and his wife, Anna, before going to dinner. Tell Dad hello for me, Mom.” He gave his mom a hug and kiss.

  “Again, it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  Teresa gave a little wave and followed Atka to the front door. Outside, the temperature had dropped, but for Teresa the evening air felt warmer than it had in the house.

  He started up the SUV and cranked the heat. “Before you turn into an icicle,” he said lightly, no doubt hoping to lighten the mood.

  “I thought my family was protective, but your mother...wow.”

  “Yes, I probably should have said more about that. With you being the third—no, fourth—person I�
��ve brought home, and the second non-native, I was hoping she’d be more cordial.”

  “Ah, the reception would have been friendlier were I a native girl? When her husband is black, too?”

  He nodded. “I know, a double standard. It’s not personal, though. Our tribes are dying out and with them, traditions that have lasted a thousand years. Mary was a native Alaskan who Mom treated like a daughter. She took her death very hard.

  “She keeps hoping that more of her children will marry within the culture. So far, the only one who has is my oldest sister, Panika. She’s a carbon copy of my mother, so we’ll see her next week after you’ve met my nicer siblings.”

  “So there are some nice ones. Whew! Had me worried.”

  “I’m sorry, papoota. Given how warmly your family received me, I feel bad about the chilly reception. Once they get to know you, it will get better. They are suspicious and protective. It’s not personal at all.”

  The rest of the meetings did go better. Max was friendly and his pretty wife was gracious and warm. Anna and her husband were quiet, like Atka, but their smiles were genuine and the dinner they insisted she and Atka stay and eat was delicious. By that Sunday, she’d met everyone who lived in and around Anchorage except Panika, and Atka’s dad. One brother lived in Juneau and another lived on a fishing boat, putting him somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.

  Anchorage had most big-city conveniences, so Teresa adjusted better than she thought she would. The worry was whether or not she’d ever fit in with his family. But soon, this concern about fitting in with the Sinclairs would take a backseat to something else.

  Chapter 22

  In between spending time with Atka and meeting his family, Teresa had stayed connected to the Chronicle via her laptop and crafted the last article in the four-part series on Alaska. Even with the stress that accompanied her writing it, she was very proud at how it had turned out. Bringing the series full circle, Teresa had once again focused on what she felt was the state’s best resource: its people. She’d written about native Alaskans, their cultures and traditions, children of the gold rush, particularly the descendants of Klondike fame and the newest crop of Alaskans finding notoriety on reality TV. In an attempt to meet Benny halfway, she’d used this foundation to segue into the state’s wealth of minerals, and the work of Paul Campbell and others to use these resources to benefit growth. The best resource in the eyes of the writer: Alaska itself.