by Ross, Carol
“We have, Emily. I do talk about it. You’ve just never heard it before.”
Emily knew that what she said was true. She’d always listened as Amanda prattled on about the men in her life. Her chatter had always been amusing and entertaining—like a good gossip magazine—but it hadn’t ever really seemed serious to her. The difference between then and now was that she just couldn’t relate before. Had she really been that single-minded? That obsessed with work? The answer, she knew, was an unqualified yes.
“Amanda, I’m sorry. I’ve been like some kind of unemotional robot, haven’t I? How have you put up with me all these years?”
“I’ve always preferred to think of you as more like Sleeping Beauty. I’ve been patiently waiting for you to wake up. And it’s finally happened, but I think we have Bering to thank for that.”
She looked at Amanda and didn’t try to mask her anguish as she asked, “This is going to be really hard, isn’t it?”
* * *
EMILY STARED AT THE SKETCH she’d drawn, the one that Bering had won at the Rotary auction and then given to her that same night. She carefully removed the sketch from the frame, signed it and placed it into a different frame—one she thought suited it much better. She wrapped it in red tissue paper and then placed it in a box.
When Janie had called to invite her to Bering’s surprise birthday party, she’d been touched. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to his family’s thoughtfulness. But she’d also been worried. What could she possibly get for him? Where did these people even shop? She’d asked Janie.
“Oh, we do a lot on the internet now. Glacier City is only about three hours away on a good day. It’s not exactly a thriving metropolis or anything, but you can get almost anything you need. It used to be that we’d drive, or pay an exorbitant amount to fly, to Anchorage a couple times a year, stay a few nights with my mom’s cousin, but now that Tag has his pilot’s license, we fly more often than that—and it’s a lot faster and cheaper than buying a ticket.”
“Wow.”
“I know, I know. It seems really backwoods, huh? But you’d be surprised at how good you get at thinking and planning ahead. And now with the internet...well, it’s so much easier.”
“Is it casual?”
Janie laughed. “Sweetie, it’s always casual here in Rankins—even when it’s not. The only time people even attempt to dress up is for weddings, funerals, church and the Rotary fund-raiser. And usually that just means flannel that’s been ironed with a spray of starch.”
Emily smiled at hearing her previous conjecture spoken aloud. “Okay, so do I bring anything?”
“Nah, it’s going to be at the Caribou, so everything’s taken care of. Just bring your lovely self and Amanda if she wants to come.”
Now, as Emily wrapped the box, she hoped that Bering would understand the symbolism behind it. She wanted it to convey to him that it had worked, his efforts had paid off—he had managed to make her fall in love with Rankins. She was grateful to Bering for “waking her up,” as Amanda had suggested, and in spite of what happened, win or lose, she wanted him to know that.
She was going to take the memories of Bering, and of Rankins, and tuck them away and keep them forever. They would see her through the rough patches, and she knew that she’d never be the same again. Because if one good thing could come from it all, it was that she was finally ready to live. To live life the way Bering lived it, the way he’d shown her that she could live. She wiped at the tears that streamed down her face as she wondered how she could possibly do any of that without him.
* * *
EMILY WAS NERVOUS. She was always nervous before these presentations but usually it was mixed with an equal amount of excitement and confidence. Tonight it was just mixed with equal parts of dread and nausea. She felt sick thinking about what Cam-Field would do if—when—they won approval for this project. And she was despondent about the soon-to-be end of her time with Bering.
The school’s gymnasium was packed to the gills with standing room only. She glanced down at her watch, took a deep breath and walked up to the podium. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of Cam-Field Oil & Mineral, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. And on a personal note, my assistant, Amanda, and I would like to thank you, and all the citizens of Rankins, for your warm and generous treatment. Your town is stunningly beautiful and we have so enjoyed our stay here.” She was heartened by the solid round of applause.
She went on. “And now let’s talk about the reason that we’ve all gathered here tonight....” Emily began by outlining Cam-Field’s basic plan for the construction of the oil platform, storage facilities and pipeline. And while it was true, Emily then explained, that new unobtrusive structures would be built in and on the shore of the bay, jobs would be created, money would be pumped into the economy and virtually every aspect of Rankins would be improved in the process.
You’re a big fat liar, Emily, she told herself. If she lived here she wouldn’t want to change a thing. These people are crazy if they agree to it, she thought as she kept up a steady stream of corporate-speak.
And finally she added the frosting: upon approval of the final permits, Cam-Field would underscore its dedication to the future of Rankins with a donation of five million dollars for the hospital renovation. She reiterated their commitment to the community center and added that another million had been earmarked for the school system.
Forty-five minutes later, Emily was relieved to find that it was going much, much better than she had anticipated. Her voice sounded strong, her nervousness had subsided, her confidence felt revived and her words were making sense to her own ears. She didn’t have the same enthusiasm for them anymore, but that was really irrelevant right now. Wasn’t it?
“So, in conclusion I’d just like to add that in the development of this community’s resources, Cam-Field will be dedicated to the health and well-being of the citizens of Rankins as well as the health and well-being of the landscape, the wildlife and all the unique aspects that make Rankins so special. Now I’d like to open up the floor to any questions or comments that you might have.”
A young man stood up in the first row of the bleachers and Amanda passed him a microphone. He took it in one hand and raised the other in greeting. “Yeah, hi, um, about all these jobs? It sounds to me like a lot of them are going to need to be filled by skilled workers. How do you expect a bunch of fishermen and loggers to jump onto an oil rig and know what to do?”
“That’s a very good question. Cam-Field has an extensive training program for its workers. It’s a paid training program and the only requirements are that you are ready to learn some valuable new skills and willing to work hard.” Emily briefly outlined the process.
She then successfully fielded dozens more questions, and the audience seemed to have been tamed when she heard a new buzz from the crowd. She knew it was Bering before she even saw him striding purposefully and confidently up the aisle. She stepped aside as he approached the podium and his eyes flicked over briefly to meet hers, but she couldn’t read a thing behind the glance. A seed of dread sprouted inside her and quickly blossomed as he began to speak.
“You know something I’ve always wondered? Why does everything have to grow, to change? To dramatically change? Really, think about it. Why do we need growth? Why do we need Cam-Field? What’s wrong with things staying the same if we all like it the way it is? Nothing, I say. Because I think that everything is already pretty great around here.”
That statement was met with wild applause and hoots from the audience.
“This is a very pretty picture that Cam-Field has painted here tonight. But that’s all it is—a picture. And we all know that a picture is merely a very tiny slice of reality and often a rather inaccurate slice at that. I would like to take a few moments to show how Cam-Field’s picture is flawed. I am going to start
by pointing out a few problems and inconsistencies in these projections.
“The first and most glaring problem I’d like to bring to light are the eyesores that will be created right here on the shores of our bay—and in our bay—which essentially serves as our entire community’s front yard. As it is now, when I and many, if not most us here, get up each morning, we are treated to the most gorgeous and picturesque view in the world—a clear horizon for miles teeming with wildlife. On any given morning I can raise my binoculars and see moose, wolves, caribou or bear along the shoreline or on the beach, birds on the water and in the air, whales surfacing, sea otters playing, and seals frolicking both on and offshore. Now if you will, imagine with me the view here in Rankins if Cam-Field moves in—a giant, hulking and ugly chunk of metal sitting right out there and obscuring these sights that we all love so much. I believe the word that Ms. Hollings used was unobtrusive. I’m going to show you exactly what Cam-Field’s version of unobtrusive looks like.” He paused and looked to his left. “Tag, would you start the slides please?”
It was all Emily could do to stand still and not react. She plastered a mask of indifference on her face and pretended to look interested in the photos, although she knew exactly what they portrayed. Photo after photo showed one oil rig, open pit mine or scarred landscape after another. She swallowed hard when he got to the photos of a toxic spill that had killed hundreds of birds in the mountains of Colorado. This particular incident had occurred fifteen years ago, when Emily had been working in the mail room, but she was familiar with the details.
The next series of photos showed a small oil spill off the coast of Texas, and then a larger spill that had occurred off the coast of California. There were studies about the toxicity of mine tailings, and of substances used in the extraction of certain minerals. She had to give Bering credit: once again, he’d done his homework. Emily could feel the community’s confidence in Cam-Field wavering, but she was ready with her rebuttal. As far as the industry was concerned, Cam-Field had an excellent environmental record and she could recite it in her sleep.
“So we get a few jobs out of the deal? So what?” Bering was saying. “What happens to our fisheries if there’s an oil spill? What happens to our wildlife? What happens to our tourism industry? What about people like Abigail Cravens, whose bed–and-breakfast sits right on the dock and whose livelihood depends on the summer tourists? And what about Shay James at the Faraway Inn? And Tess and Mac at the Cozy Caribou? And myself and countless others? We all depend on the pristine beauty of Rankins for our livelihood, not to mention our quality of life.”
The meeting went, thankfully, much smoother than Emily had anticipated. She felt that boded well for Cam-Field’s cause. After Bering and the string of other opposing speakers had said their piece, Emily wrapped it up by reiterating Cam-Field’s position and countering some of Bering’s more damaging commentary. She urged any community members who hadn’t received a copy of the proposal to pick one up at the door, where Amanda was manning a table with stacks of them and informational brochures.
Afterward, Emily spent time answering every question that was asked of her. She and Bering didn’t have a chance to speak, and her heart constricted in her chest as she watched him walk out of the gymnasium without a backward glance. It was late by the time she and Amanda were finally able to go home—and they both knew they would be waking up Monday morning to face a very long day.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EMILY’S DAY WAS SHAPING UP to be just as long and exhausting as she’d anticipated—phone calls, emails, meetings. She was ready for it all to be over one way or the other. However, her anticipation for the coming evening was also partially to blame for her impatience.
She had decided something the night before while she’d listened to Bering rebut Cam-Field’s proposal. Amanda was right. She was in love with him. And she couldn’t leave Rankins without telling him. It was weird, she thought, how the realization once accepted needed to be expressed. She’d never been in love before, so she’d never understood what all the fuss was about. She was going to tell him tonight, after his surprise party.
It had to be tonight, because the town-council vote was tomorrow and she wanted to tell him before then. She wanted him to know how she felt before they had to face the consequences of the vote’s results. It seemed vital that she say it before the outcome somehow clouded its meaning.
They’d talked only briefly since the meeting, early this morning, just long enough for Bering to invite her over later, after what he believed was to be a simple birthday dinner with his mom and sister. So when her cell phone rang, she picked it up, thinking it was him. It wasn’t.
“Emily, dear? It’s Franklin.”
She cringed. Would this day never end?
“Hello, Franklin,” she said evenly. “How are you?”
“I’m quite fine physically, but otherwise I’m a bit disturbed, Emily. I’ve just had a call from Tom Watkins and he informed me that the town meeting was rather contentious last night. Is this an accurate report?”
Emily’s brain shifted into work mode and the implications of his statement sank in. “You sent Tom Watkins here? To check on me?” Resentment oozed from her tone and she didn’t care.
“He was in the neighborhood. I asked him to stop by the meeting and see how things were going.”
“He was in the neighborhood of Rankins, Alaska? Are you kidding me?” She spat out the words. “There is no neighborhood here, Franklin. Rankins is it.”
“He was in Juneau, Emily, and the last I checked I was still the CEO of this company, and there was no need for me to ask you. And from what I’ve heard, it was a good call on my part.”
Emily could feel her pulse pounding in her temples. “Well, Tom has misinformed you. The meeting was spirited, yes, and it is true that we have faced a fair amount of resistance here. But I’m confident that we have the votes we need. The majority of the community might not be on board—although it is very close. This is a knowledgeable and sensible bunch of citizens here. But we have the number of town-council votes we need to get this passed, and that’s what counts.”
“Emily, I am afraid there is even more riding on this than you know. I have a bit of a situation here—”
“Franklin,” she interrupted, “everything is fine here. I have everything under con—”
He continued to talk. “—which is why I’m sending Jeremy to help you out.”
“What?” Emily nearly shrieked the response. “No!” She fought to control her tone. “Really, that’s not necessary.”
“He will be there sometime late this evening or early tomorrow.”
“Tonight!” she shouted. “He’s coming tonight?”
“Emily, there is no need to raise your voice. What has gotten into you? Yes, he will be there in time for the vote tomorrow. I thought it would be apropos to introduce Jeremy to the community at this juncture.”
“Why?” Emily asked.
“Because if it passes, which I’m sure it will, then you and Jeremy will be working up there on the project together. Jeremy’s requested it.”
* * *
“THANK YOU, UNCLE FRANKLIN,” Jeremy said after his uncle hung up the phone. “I really feel like the time is right now. I never should have balked in the first place. I’ve already got the ring. I’m going to ask her, and then we’ll come home, get married and head back up to Alaska when the project begins.”
“Hmm, frankly, Jeremy, I hope you’re right, because after tomorrow, we’re definitely going to need her back here as soon as possible. I don’t understand exactly what’s happening....” he muttered as he looked down at his desk.
Jeremy stood up and strode out the door. “Kim” he shouted at his secretary as he approached his office. “I need the next flight out to Rankins, Alaska.”
“Yes, sir,” Kim said. “I’ll boo
k it immediately. Did you want that business-class or first-class?”
“What do you think?” he snapped as he stomped into his office and shut the door behind him.
* * *
KIM GLARED AT THE BACK of his door. “Pompous lowlife snake,” she muttered under her breath. “A cheap seat it is,” she said as she deftly began clicking away on her computer. “The cheapest seat available on the cattle-freight express...”
Then she picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey, Amanda, it’s me, Kim. Guess who’s slated to be on his way up north in just a matter of minutes?
“Mmm-hmm. Funny, I had a similar thought. Oh, yes, I can definitely do that.” Kim chortled. “We are so bad, you know that? Absolutely, in the best way...”
* * *
“AMANDA, WHAT ARE WE going to do? Jeremy is coming up here.” Emily paced back and forth in front of Amanda, who was perched on the edge of the couch, dressed and ready to leave for the party.
“Em—” Amanda tried to interrupt.
“Why would Franklin do that, Amanda? He’s never sent anyone to help me on a job before. And Jeremy, of all people? The man is completely worthless. And now, of all times? I can’t be babysitting him in addition to everything else I have to do. And he’s going to be such a terrible spokesperson for Cam-Field. I can just see him strutting around like a peacock before the meeting. The town-council members are not going to be impressed. If they get a look at him before the vote in one of his expensive suits and his ridiculous shoes, they’re going to vote us down because of that alone.” She didn’t need to remind herself that she used to be rather fond of that look herself. Now she liked comfortable jeans and layers of knit shirts and flannel and fleece and thick boots with traction on the soles...
“Emily!” Amanda barked, snapping her out it. “Listen to me. He will not be here before the vote.”
