Alaskan Catch

by Sue Pethick

  Emily swallowed. The subject of her marriage was still a sore point. Given the choice, she’d have preferred not to discuss it at all, but it seemed her mother would not be put off.

  “That’s fine,” she said. “But I’m not interested in anything that’s too over-the-top.”

  “Who’s talking about over-the-top? All Sheila and I want is for you kids to have something nice. There will be a lot of important people coming to see you and Carter on your special day. You don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “Mom, please don’t go crazy with this, okay? Just the thought of a big society wedding makes me cringe. All that fuss—and the money! I’d rather elope.”

  Her mother’s lips thinned.

  “Prentices do not elope, dear. What would people think?”

  “Um, that you didn’t want to spend a fortune just so they could eat hors d’oeuvres and watch some guy slip a ring on my finger?”

  Her mother gave a pained sigh.

  “First of all, money is not a problem, so don’t worry about the cost. Second, your father was a very important man in this town. If you don’t have the sort of wedding that other people in our social circle are giving their daughters, they’ll think he didn’t care enough to provide for us. Is that what you want, to make your father look feckless and uncaring?”

  Emily stabbed at her tamale.

  “No, of course not. It’s just that I’m not sure that’s the kind of ceremony I want. And frankly, when the time comes, I think Carter should be consulted, too.”

  “Oh, please,” her mother laughed. “Everyone knows that weddings are for brides. Believe me, when the time comes, Carter will do what his mother wants.”

  Of course he will, Emily thought sourly. Wasn’t that what Carter always did?

  CHAPTER 24

  Tiffany lay in bed, waiting for Seth to fall asleep. The digital clock on his side of the bed cast a greenish light on his face, making him look like some kind of alien, but at least she could see him clearly. As his breathing deepened, she saw beads of sweat break out on his upper lip. It wouldn’t be long now. Once Seth dropped off, it took a lot to wake him up. When she was sure he wouldn’t hear her, she’d sneak out and check on Bear.

  She hated keeping Sam’s dog cooped up in the garage. It was only made for one car, and with all the stuff Seth and his brother stored inside, they couldn’t even get that in there. Tiffany had dragged out an old bedspread for Bear to sleep on, and whenever they were alone, she let him in the house, but no matter how many times she reminded Seth, he couldn’t seem to remember to get dog food at the store.

  Bear had been okay the first couple of days. He would eat pretty much anything, and there’d been plenty of leftovers in the fridge, but those were all gone now, and Seth still wouldn’t go to the store. Tiffany wished they had a car she could drive. Even with her license suspended, it would be worth taking a chance to get something for Bear to eat. He’d whimpered so much while they were eating dinner that night that Seth had gone out and yelled at him, telling him to shut up or he’d be sorry. Tiffany tried to tell Seth that the dog was just lonely and hungry, but he said she’d be sorry, too, if she didn’t stop nagging him.

  That’s when she decided to wait until Seth was asleep to give Bear some food and water. She’d given him one of her big mixing bowls full of water the first night, but the last time she’d checked, it was empty. They’d had pizza again that night, and she’d made sure to ask Seth to get a large so there’d be plenty left over. He’d probably be mad when he saw that the rest was gone, but she’d just tell him it fell on the floor. Even Seth wouldn’t want it after that.

  Seth’s breathing was slow and even, and every few times he inhaled, he’d snore a little, too. Tiffany slowly pulled back the covers and sat up, resting her bare feet on the floor while she waited to see if he’d wake. If he did, she’d just tell him she had to pee and try again later, but he never did. She stood quietly and tiptoed out of the room.

  The light in the refrigerator was so bright it hurt her eyes. Tiffany grabbed the pizza box and set it on the counter, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She wasn’t used to being in such a dark house this time of year. Even at midnight, it wasn’t pitch black outside, but Seth had insisted they buy blackout curtains for every window in the house, and he checked them every night before going to bed. She took out the three leftover slices of pepperoni and tore them into pieces, using the faint glow of the microwave to see what she was doing, then set them on a paper plate and took them out to Bear.

  He was lying on the bedspread in the far corner but got up when he saw it was her. For a big dog, Bear could be pretty shy, and his feelings must have been hurt when Seth yelled at him. When she set the food down, he hurried over.

  Tiffany wrinkled her nose.

  “Pee-yew,” she whispered. “What’s that smell?”

  Then she remembered: Bear hadn’t been outside since he’d gotten there. She felt a pang of guilt, realizing the dog had had nowhere to do his business but in the garage.

  “I’m sorry, boy,” she whispered. “I guess I forgot. Maybe I can get Seth to buy a paper for you to go on in here.”

  She’d take him outside in the morning, she told herself. Give him a chance to stretch his legs, too. Sam hadn’t left the dog’s leash, but Seth must have some rope around there somewhere that she could use.

  Bear finished the pizza and started licking the paper plate. Then he held it down with his paw, tore a piece off, and started eating it. Tiffany snatched the rest away.

  “No, no,” she said. “Paper’s not good for you. Seth’ll get your dog food soon, don’t worry.”

  She glanced at the empty bowl on the floor.

  “Hold on. I’ll get you some water.”

  Tiffany took the bowl and stepped back inside, flinching as the water hissed out of the tap. She turned it off, listening for Seth, but heard nothing. She stared at the bowl. It was only half full, but she didn’t want to risk turning the tap on again.

  Oh, well. Half full is better than nothing.

  Tiffany opened the garage door and took the bowl back out to Bear.

  “You be quiet now, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She tiptoed down the hallway and back into the bedroom. As she sat on the bed, though, the mattress squeaked. Tiffany’s heart was in her throat.

  Seth snuffled, half-awake.

  “Somethin’ wrong?”

  “Just had to pee,” she said, sliding in beside him. “Go back to sleep.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The next morning after breakfast, Emily went into her unfinished bedroom closet and took out her gi and hakama. It had been almost two months since she’d practiced her aikido forms—she felt rusty and out of shape—and she was hoping to have a word with Sensei Doug. After the visit with her uncle Danny the night before, she craved both the physical exertion and the mindfulness that a session at the dojo required.

  Things at the hospital had started out well enough, and Uncle Danny seemed to be in good spirits. Even in the short time she’d been away, though, Emily could see that he’d lost weight, and she wondered if it signaled something more than just an aversion to hospital fare. Since learning that his condition was grave, Emily had been thinking of all the things she wanted to tell him before the end, but once they arrived, she’d hardly been able to say a word. Instead, her mother had hovered nearby, interrupting their conversation and making critical comments about her brother-in-law’s historically poor health habits. Whether or not her intention had been to blame him for his own ill fortune, the result was predictable. He grew quieter and slowly withdrew from the conversation, leaving whatever the two of them might have said to each other unexpressed.

  Which was why she’d decided to return to the hospital that day and see him on her own. Without her mother’s interference, Emily hoped the two of them could finally have the heart-to-heart that was long overdue. With so little time left, she was determined to say her piece.

  She put on
the gi’s white pants and jacket, then tied the black obi around her waist and slipped into her zori sandals, saving the black hakama for the dojo. The loose, pleated pants were fine in the context of her martial arts practice but tended to draw unwelcome attention out in the real world. She set them carefully in her gym bag and headed downstairs.

  Veronica Prentice was in the foyer, resplendent in one of her “going to the club” outfits: tailored linen capris, a flowery silk blouse, Chanel espadrilles, and a summer-weight cardigan in case the air con had been turned up too high. As her daughter descended the staircase, she gaped.

  “What on earth are you doing in that?”

  “Going to the dojo, of course.” Emily opened the credenza and took out the keys to her car. “Then I thought I’d head over to see how Uncle Danny’s doing.”

  “No, don’t do that,” her mother said. “I have a meeting with the gala volunteers at ten and lunch at the club afterward.”

  “You don’t have to come with me. I’m a big girl, remember?”

  “Tell you what,” her mother said, checking her watch. “We’ll go tonight.”

  “I have plans tonight,” Emily lied.

  “What plans? You didn’t tell me anything about plans.”

  “Just plans, okay?”

  Emily smiled sweetly. She didn’t need to have her schedule micromanaged.

  “Fine. But don’t tire him out.”

  Her mother opened her purse and took out her car keys.

  “By the way, I’ve taken your phone.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t argue; you said yourself the battery’s worn-out. I’m going to stop on the way home and trade it in on a new one.”

  Emily rolled her eyes, but did not object.

  “Oh, and don’t forget your birthday dinner,” her mother added. “We’ve got reservations at the Marine Room at seven.”

  The front door opened and Maria came in with that day’s mail.

  “Ooh, anything for me?” Emily said.

  Her mother snatched the entire lot out of the housekeeper’s hand and stuffed it into her purse.

  “It’s probably nothing but bills,” she said, snapping her handbag shut. “Now, listen: I really have to go. I’ll see you for dinner.”

  As she swept out the front door, Emily and Maria stood by in helpless bewilderment.

  “Well,” Emily said. “I hope she’s right. I’d hate to think there’s an overdue notice in there for me.”

  Maria nodded, then slipped a hand into the pocket of her apron and drew out another piece of mail.

  “Oops,” she said, giving Emily a sly smile. “I must have missed one.”

  As she handed it over, Emily saw that the envelope was addressed to her.

  “Why, Maria, you naughty girl. Thank you.”

  As the housekeeper walked back to the kitchen, Emily tore the envelope open. It was a letter from the family’s lawyer asking her to make an appointment at her earliest convenience to discuss the conveyance of her trust fund, something that was scheduled to take place on Tuesday, her twenty-fourth birthday. As she read the letter, Emily’s hands shook. She’d heard various estimates of the amount her father had left her in trust. Depending upon the performance of the market and the investments therein, she guessed it must be close to a million dollars.

  It seemed impossible that a person her age could suddenly be in charge of such a large amount, and it made the loss of her uncle that much more painful, knowing she wouldn’t have his wise counsel to guide her investment decisions. Nevertheless, she knew he’d arrange for someone to take over for him; she’d be in good hands. She called the lawyer’s office and arranged to meet him at his office on Monday, then grabbed her gym bag and headed out the door.

  * * *

  Sensei Doug was instructing a class when Emily walked into the dojo. She turned toward the far end of the room where a portrait of aikido’s founder, Morihei Ueshiba, hung, and bowed respectfully before making her way quietly to the warm-up area. Careful preparation of the body was an important part of the discipline involved in any martial art, and Emily quickly found herself immersed in the gentle, rhythmic motions. Head and neck, then shoulders, trunk, and last, the legs were stretched, releasing any tightness in her body before she stepped into her hakama and joined the others at the mats.

  This morning’s class consisted mostly of middle-aged women, most of whom were probably new to aikido, and there were none who wore the flowing black hakama over their gis. Emily kept her attention on their instructor, but it was impossible not to notice the looks of anticipation on the others’ faces. Perhaps they wondered why a black belt had chosen to join them that day.

  Her sensei, too, must have noticed Emily’s arrival, but nothing in his speech or mannerisms gave away any awareness on his part that his audience had increased by one. It wasn’t until the session was almost over that he turned toward her and nodded.

  “I see we’ve been joined by one of my former students,” he said softly. “Perhaps she’d like to join me in a demonstration of some of aikido’s more advanced techniques.”

  Emily nodded her acknowledgement, then stood and performed the ritual bows—first to Sensei Ueshiba’s portrait, then to Sensei Doug, and finally to her fellow students—before stepping onto the mats. As she approached her teacher, Emily’s heart was racing. Other than her brief encounter with Bear, it had been months since she’d practiced any advanced throws. She hoped the master would go easy on her.

  He did not.

  Ten minutes later, Emily had been thrown dozens of times and was sweating profusely. Her shoulders and back were smarting from contact with the mat, and her wrists and elbows ached from being held to the point of discomfort. The object of aikido might not be to injure one’s opponent, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. When it was over, Emily and Sensei Doug bowed to each other, and she resumed her place on the edge of the mat until the class was dismissed.

  “I was surprised to see you walk in today,” he said as the last student filed out. “I hadn’t expected you to be back from Alaska so soon.”

  “Neither did I,” Emily said. “But some things came up and I had to leave.”

  His look was searching.

  “You seem troubled.”

  “My uncle’s in the hospital with stage four lung cancer. He hasn’t got much longer.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Of course you’d want to be with him.”

  “Also . . . Carter asked me to marry him, so I guess I’m engaged now.”

  He frowned slightly. “You guess.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Most people are happy to be engaged. You don’t look happy.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  The truth was, she wasn’t happy about the engagement. The way Carter had asked her over the phone while their friends and family listened in was disappointing, and taking it for granted that she’d accept his proposal felt like a slight. Plus, the way he always deferred to his mother’s wishes instead of asking Emily what she wanted worried her.

  Her sensei folded his arms and gave her a stern look.

  “If you’re not happy with your engagement, then you need to decide: either fight for what you want or end it.”

  He was right, she thought. If she and Carter were going to be a team in their married life, there was no time like the present to get started. Maybe after she went to see Uncle Danny, she’d give him a call.

  Emily bowed, acknowledging his wise words.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I will.”

  “And there’s one more thing,” he said. “I noticed that your movements were a bit stiff today. You haven’t been practicing your forms.”

  She gave him a sheepish smile.

  “I haven’t had much of a chance,” she said. “The only opponent I’ve sparred with lately was a dog.”

  His eyes widened.

  “You were attacked by a dog?”

  Emily laughed. “No, not really attacked. It was running tow
ard me out of control. I remembered our rolling escapes and moved toward him to execute the roll.”

  “Very good.”

  “If I hadn’t lost my balance and ended up on my face, it would have been picture perfect.”

  “Considering who your opponent was, perhaps you can be forgiven.” The sensei smiled. “I would love for you to stay and tell my students that story. The little ones, especially, would enjoy it.”

  “No, I really have to go,” she said. “Besides, I’m not good at speaking in front of groups.”

  “Now you’re selling yourself short. You’re a natural teacher, Emily.”

  “Ha! More like a perpetual student.”

  He shook a finger at her.

  “It has always bothered me the way you put yourself down,” he said. “You’re one of the best students I’ve ever had, and the reason for that is because you were always helping others. Teaching helps you internalize what you know.”

  She blushed. Sensei Doug didn’t hand out compliments lightly.

  “You’ve always been tough in here.” He indicated the dojo. “Now, you must learn to be tough in the rest of the world.”

  “I’ll try,” she said.

  “Do that.” He smiled. “It was good to see you again. I enjoyed our demonstration.”

  * * *

  Uncle Danny was dozing when Emily returned to the hospital. She stood in the open doorway of his room watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, feeling her own chest constrict. He’d always been there for her. Even when her father was alive, her uncle had been the one she counted on, the one she told her secrets to, who knew the names of all her favorite Kpop singers, the one with whom she celebrated childhood’s fleeting victories and mourned its crushing defeats. Emily’s father was like a god—all-powerful and remote—but Uncle Danny was her friend.

  And now she was losing him.

  She rapped on the wall with a knuckle, and he opened his eyes.

  “Hey, punkin’,” he said hoarsely.