An Alaskan Family Found
Author
Beth Carpenter
Reads
18,3K
Chapters
18
CHAPTER ONE
“I’M GETTING MARRIED!”
“Uh, congratulations.” Caleb DeBoer shifted his cell phone to his left ear while he reached down to pull a hawkweed springing up at the base of the Peggy’s Pink peony crown. He wasn’t sure why Christabel Adams, sales and marketing manager for the Susitna Peony Cooperative, would be calling him before eight in the morning to share this news. As newly elected chair of the co-op board, he’d developed a cordial enough professional relationship with Christabel, but they weren’t exactly friends.
Thor pushed his head under Caleb’s hand, and he scratched behind the dog’s floppy ear while he waited to hear more. Maybe this was a segue to a discussion about a professional discount for Christabel’s wedding flowers.
“Thanks! We’re flying to Vegas this weekend.”
“Oh.” So that was a no on the flowers. Now, in mid-May, the earliest peonies in the lower forty-eight might be starting to bloom, but here on Jade Farm near Willow, Alaska, the leaves were just unfurling from the peony crowns. The first blooms wouldn’t be budded until July, well after their more southern relatives were done. That was the co-op’s niche, providing peonies for late-summer weddings and other special events. But apparently not for Christabel’s nuptials. “Well, best wishes on your marriage.”
Thor, spotting movement in among the lilac hedge on the north edge of the field, went to investigate.
“Thanks. But...” She paused, and he got the sense she was about to get into the real reason for her call. “We won’t be coming back for a while.”
Of course, they would be taking a honeymoon. Someone would need to cover Christabel’s responsibilities while she was gone, a duty that traditionally fell to—oh, shoot—the chair of the co-op board. Did Vickie Faramund, his neighbor to the north, know this was coming when she’d insisted she’d held the position long enough and it was Caleb’s turn? He wouldn’t put it past her.
He stifled a sigh. “I understand. Could you come by this afternoon or tomorrow to show me the system and catch me up on anything pending?” Vickie had trained Christabel on the website and ordering system when they hired her. Caleb was only marginally familiar with how it all ran.
“Sure.” Christabel sounded relieved. “Today at two, okay?”
“That will work.” It would shoot a hole in the middle of his afternoon, but at least he had the full morning to devote to repotting his basil seedlings and applying the spring dose of fertilizer to his peony fields. He wanted to get the most time-consuming chores out of the way so that he’d have more time next week when he picked up his daughter in Anchorage and brought her to the farm for the summer. Oh, and he needed to remember to pick up a new greenhouse thermostat while he was there.
“Thanks! I’ll be sure and spread around our brochures to the wedding venues while I’m there. You know, talk it up. Let everybody know what fantastic flowers we have. Alaska peonies are the best!” He could almost imagine the pom-poms waving. Christabel’s enthusiasm made her ideal for her job marketing their flowers, but she had a tendency to stray off topic.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Well, that’s another thing.” She cleared her throat. “Um, Justin’s uncle—not the teacher but the one who had the pipe company—he retired and sold his company for like a bazillion dollars. You should see his house on the hillside. It’s incredible. Anyway, he just bought a sailing yacht. He’s naming it the Scottish Piper, because their name is Scott, and he made his money from pipes. Isn’t that cute?”
“Yeah. Cute.” What did her fiancé’s uncle’s boat have to do with anything? Caleb pulled another weed. Sounds of a scuffle drew his attention to the lilac hedge. A mottled snowshoe hare, in the process of turning from winter white to summer brown, darted from between the shrubs across the gravel drive and toward the peony field. Spotting Caleb, the hare changed direction to dash alongside the ditch, which, thanks to last night’s rain, was running with water. Thor, five paces behind, tried to cut off the angle by running directly toward the ditch. Caleb covered the phone with his hand and hollered at the dog to stop, but Thor ignored him and plunged through the muddy water, only to lose sight of the hare, who had slipped away between the rows. Great. Now Caleb could add washing the dog to his list of chores. He turned his attention back to the phone call.
“—and then sailing from Hawaii to Alaska, planning to be back in late August or early September.”
September? He’d assumed he would need to cover for a week or so while they had a honeymoon in Vegas. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t get all that. What about sailing from Hawaii?”
Christabel huffed. “I said we’re crewing on Justin’s uncle’s yacht for the summer. I know it’s kinda leaving you in the lurch, but this is just too good an opportunity to pass up. Justin loves sailing, so this is like a dream come true for him, you know?”
“Huh.” Caleb had nothing against Christabel’s fiancé chasing his dreams, but did he have to drag their marketing manager along with him in the middle of their busiest season? “So this is your two-week notice?”
“Oh, uh, well, no. Because we’re flying to Vegas in four days, so I can’t give you two weeks. And I’m not resigning. I mean, I love this job so I’d like to come back in the fall if I can. I realize you’ll have to hire someone else in the meantime, but you know, if you could get somebody to cover like you would for maternity leave or something, that would be great.”
“I see.” He supposed working remotely was out of the question, as well, since she would be in the middle of the ocean. Besides, she needed to be available to visit the co-op farms. “I’ll have to talk with the rest of the board before we make a decision.”
“Sure, of course. We can talk more when I see you this afternoon.”
“Okay. Thanks for the call, Christabel.” Now what? As chair, it was his job to recommend a course of action to the board, which consisted of representatives from the seven peony farms in the co-op. Obviously, they would need someone to take over Christabel’s position, but should they hire someone temporary or permanent? On one hand, Christabel had done a good job dealing with customers and keeping up with social media. On the other, she was taking off with only four days’ notice. Vickie had worked closely with Christabel. He’d call and get her advice.
But before he could pull up Vickie’s number, his phone rang again. According to caller ID, the call was from his daughter’s school in Anchorage. Chances were they weren’t calling him first thing in the morning to tell him everything was fine. He braced himself and answered. “Caleb DeBoer.”
“Hi. This is Gen Rockford. I’m interning with Doreen Holman, your daughter’s counselor at Goldenview Middle School.”
“Yes, Ms. Rockford. What can I do for you?”
“I was calling to verify that you still plan to attend the meeting today.”
“What meeting?”
“The meeting to discuss Fleur’s—Oh, wait. I see here that Doreen had set up the meeting with Mallory DeBoer only. I’m sorry. Your name was listed in Fleur’s record and—”
“Mallory is my ex-wife, but I’m supposed to be informed about this sort of thing.”
“Oh, I apologize, then. I’m sure Doreen didn’t deliberately leave you out.”
Maybe the counselor hadn’t, but he couldn’t say the same for Mallory. Or Fleur. “What time is the meeting?”
“It’s at ten thirty.”
According to his phone, it was eight thirty now, and it was almost a two-hour drive from his farm to the south side of Anchorage. “I’ll be there.”
“Oh, excellent. I’ll call Mallory to verify as well. We’ve found that in-person parental involvement can make all the difference in a situation like this.”
A situation like what? With only five days left in the school year, it wouldn’t be about something minor. He almost asked, but if he was going to make that meeting, he needed to get on the road now. “Good. Do that. You’ll let me know if she reschedules?”
“Of course. In fact, I’ll text to verify the time once I speak to Mallory. Okay?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, and I’ll plan to see you at ten thirty, Mr. DeBoer.”
Caleb pocketed his phone and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache threatening to form. Obviously, Fleur and her mother hadn’t been keeping him in the loop. Fleur was in some sort of trouble, but he had no idea if it was behavioral, grades, or what. He could call Mallory, but most likely he’d get her voice mail and anyway he needed to get on the road. No doubt once he arrived at the school, he’d find out exactly what was going on and what the counselor thought they should do about it. And then he’d need to hurry back to meet up with Christabel and figure out how to handle that.
His farm chores would have to wait.
CALEB PULLED INTO the Goldenview parking lot. Thanks to fifteen minutes spent waiting while a moose coaxed her twins across the Parks Highway, he was already two minutes late to the meeting. The counselor or intern or whoever she was had texted as promised to verify the time. He parked and hurried to the front door, where he had to press a button and wait to be buzzed inside.
Once he’d shown his identification and signed in, a student helper escorted him down the hallway to a glass door marked Counseling Office. Behind the door was a waiting room with clusters of chairs outside a row of doors marked with individual counselors’ names.
He stepped through the doorway and spotted Mallory flipping through a magazine. As usual, his ex-wife looked unruffled and professional, wearing a tailored beige jacket over a green blouse, with a matching skirt, her hair caught back neatly in a twist. He ran his fingers through his own hair, wishing he’d taken ten minutes to change out of the faded jeans and sweatshirt he’d worn to work in the fields, but then he would have arrived even later. All of this could have been avoided if Fleur had told him about the meeting when they’d talked on the phone yesterday.
Speaking of Fleur, she came shuffling into the waiting room, looking down at the note in her hand. His daughter no doubt thought the thick lines she’d painted around her eyes made her look older and more sophisticated, but in Caleb’s opinion, the heavy makeup just transformed her face from beautiful to generic, like one of those yellow emojis on his phone. When she looked up, she embodied the big-eyed, startled emoji. “Dad?”
“Hi, Fleur.”
Mallory looked over. “Oh, Caleb. I didn’t see you come in. They’re waiting on us. I said I’d let them know when you arrived.” She led the way into the office, moving past Fleur to take one of the chairs surrounding a low table near the window as though she knew the drill. Two women, one with gray streaks in her hair and the other younger, talked quietly over some papers at the desk on the far side of the room.
When Caleb passed Fleur she hissed, “What are you doing here?”
“Attending a conference with your counselor, apparently,” he whispered back. “Although it would have been nice to know about it before this morning. I barely had time to get here.”
Fleur licked her lips. “We, uh—”
“Fleur, is this your father?” the younger woman at the desk asked in a pleasant voice.
“Yes,” Fleur admitted, shuffling her feet as though having a father was something to be embarrassed about.
The woman crossed the room to shake his hand. “I’m Genevieve Rockford. Call me Gen. I’m so glad you could make it.” Her grip was firm, and her smile looked genuine. He detected a faint whiff of citrus, clean and fresh.
“Hello, Gen. I appreciate the heads-up. Sorry if I kept you waiting. There was a holdup on the Parks Highway.” When he’d heard the word intern this morning, he’d pictured someone in her early twenties, but he’d guess this woman to be more than a decade past that, almost his age. Attractive, with golden-brown hair. Her gray eyes had little lines at the corners, as though she smiled often.
“Not at all. I didn’t realize you were driving in all the way from the Parks Highway. This is Doreen Holman, Fleur’s counselor.”
“Caleb.” Caleb shook hands with the other woman, and at her direction, they all moved to the area where Mallory was already settled. Fleur flopped into the chair beside Mallory, and Caleb took the next one, placing him between Fleur and Gen.
Doreen spoke first. “Thank you both for coming in today. Fleur, I’m sure you know why we’re back here.” She aimed a chiding but friendly smile at Fleur, who acknowledged it with an almost undetectable eye roll. Mallory nodded. Caleb felt like he’d been dropped in the middle of a movie with no clue about the plot, but before he could ask what was going on, the counselor continued, “Gen has been interning with me this semester while she finishes her master’s degree, doing a fantastic job, by the way.” She turned her smile toward Gen. “She’s been working with Fleur, and so she’ll be running the meeting.”
“Thanks, Doreen. Just to catch us up,” Gen said, nodding toward Mallory but then turning to Caleb, “six weeks ago when we met, Fleur was in danger of failing four of her classes.”
Caleb blinked. Fleur failing? The kid was reading before she turned five. Her grades throughout elementary school had been mediocre, but she’d certainly never been in danger of failing. What was going on?
“I’m happy to say that since that time,” Gen continued, still looking at Caleb, “she has brought her grades up in two of those classes, to a D in general science and a C in English.” She turned to Fleur. “So good job on that, Fleur.”
Fleur grunted an acknowledgment and Gen continued. “However, you’re still failing history and algebra.”
Fleur didn’t look surprised, but Caleb sure was. When Fleur was at the farm the weekend before last, he’d proofread a history research paper that she’d said was worth 20 percent of her grade. And it was good. They’d gone over the rubrics together, so he was sure it was complete, and Fleur had even added in some extra illustrations she’d done herself. So how was she failing? Come to think of it, the last report card he’d seen was from the end of the first semester, with mostly Bs and Cs. How could he have forgotten to ask Fleur about her grades at midterm? And what were they going to do about them now, with only a week left in the school year?
Caleb looked to his daughter for an explanation, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He turned to Gen. “I’m sorry. This is all news to me. Can someone fill me in on this improvement plan from six weeks ago?”
“Of course. Fleur, do you want to explain?” Gen asked.
“It was no big deal,” Fleur mumbled. “I just missed some assignments.”
“And...” Gen prodded.
“And I had to make them up and do some extra credit.” Fleur finally looked up. “And I did.”
“Yes, you did all the extra credit work assigned and you made up most of the assignments you’d missed up to that point, and that’s quite an accomplishment.” Gen pulled out a stack of papers and leafed through them. “But your teachers are saying in the last four weeks, you’ve missed several more.”
Fleur shrugged.
Caleb leaned forward. “May I see those?”
Gen handed him the stack, printouts of assignments and grades from each class. Caleb looked over the first sheet, history. Five assignments were marked as zeroes, including the research paper. He pointed it out to Fleur. “Okay, I know you did this paper because I read it ten days ago. Why is it missing?”
Fleur shrugged. “I guess I didn’t turn it in.”
After all that work? “Well, can you turn it in late?”
“I guess so.”
“Yes, Mr. Jackson has a policy of accepting assignments late, for partial credit,” Gen clarified.
“Where is the paper now?” Caleb asked Fleur.
“In my locker.”
Which begged a whole different set of questions, but he tried not to get sidetracked. The rest of her grades were mostly As and Bs. “So if my math is right, if you turn in this paper and net at least a C after getting partial credit, you’re within two points of passing. Correct?”
“I guess.”
Gen looked over his shoulder. “Yes, that’s exactly right. So, Fleur, if you’ve finished the paper, what kept you from turning it in?”
“My locker’s stuck.”
“Again?” Mallory raised her eyebrows. It was the first time she’d spoken.
“I’ll contact maintenance.” Gen pulled out her phone. “What’s your locker number?”
Fleur told her and Gen texted something. “Ms. Kelly will get right on it.”
“Wait, this has happened before?” Caleb asked.
“All the time,” Fleur confirmed.
Gen sighed. “It’s a design flaw. If students pack the lockers too full, stuff slides under the latch and the combination won’t open the locker. Ms. Kelly, our custodian, has a tool that can get it open.”
“How long has your locker been stuck closed?” Caleb asked.
“You mean this time?”
“Yes.”
Fleur took a moment to think. “Since the day before the paper was due, I guess.”
“And you didn’t submit a request for help?” Gen asked.
“I was busy.”
“Huh.” Gen looked like she didn’t buy it, but she moved on. “Okay, well, once your locker is accessible, you can turn in your history paper and get credit for that at least. What about these other missing assignments? Do you have them ready to turn in?” She didn’t look surprised when Fleur shook her head. “I’ve talked with your teachers in the two classes you’re failing. They’ve agreed to give you an incomplete and update your grade later if you turn in all the missing assignments before August first. Let me emphasize, that’s all of your missing assignments, the five in history and fifteen in math. It’s all or nothing—no partial credit this time.”
“But that would ruin the whole summer!” Fleur frowned, but then her face brightened. “I can’t. I won’t be here this summer. I’ll be out on the farm in Willow with my dad.”
“Do you not have internet?” Gen asked Caleb. “We could work something out via mail if necessary.”
“Of course we have internet,” Caleb replied. “And rest assured Fleur will be completing the missing assignments.” He gave his daughter a stern look. “All of them.”
“Fleur, do you agree?” Gen asked.
She slumped back in her chair, looking defeated. “I guess.”
“Because if you don’t complete the assignments, you will be repeating these two classes next year.”
“Okay, whatever. I will.”
“Mallory, do you have anything to add?” Gen asked.
Mallory gave a bland smile. “No, this is Fleur’s responsibility. I’ll trust her to handle it.”
Mentally, Caleb scoffed. Yeah, because Fleur had obviously been handling things so well up to this point. How could Mallory look so calm when their daughter was failing school? But he and Mallory had always had differing approaches to parenting. Yet another reason their marriage failed.
“All right, then. Caleb, here’s my card. If you’ll give me your email address, I’ll cc you when I send Fleur a list of all the assignments she’ll need to complete.” Gen’s phone vibrated on the table, and she picked it up. “Oh, good. Ms. Kelly has your locker open. You can pick up that history paper on your way back to class and turn it in today. Thanks for coming, Fleur.”
Fleur left the room. Caleb expected a little more discussion among the adults, but once Gen had written down his email address, the two counselors thanked Mallory and him again and said their goodbyes. Mallory slipped into the hall and Caleb hurried after her. “Mallory. Wait.”
“I need to get back to work,” she answered without slowing her stride.
“I’ll walk with you.” He stepped up to keep pace. “Why didn’t you tell me Fleur was having academic problems?” He tried to keep his voice low as they walked through the quiet hallways.
Mallory waved her hand. “It’s just an organization problem she needs to work through. Nothing serious.”
“Failing four classes sounds serious to me.”
“She made up the work.”
“You still should have told me about the meeting today.”
They turned down the hall that led to the front door. “I was doing you a favor. It’s silly for you to drive all the way to Anchorage to hear them say something they could have emailed in five minutes.”
“But they didn’t email, and neither did you. Fleur is my daughter, too. I need to know when she’s having problems.”
“Fine. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up in the next five days. You’re still picking Fleur up on Monday?”
“If that works for you.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll make sure Fleur is packed and ready to go for the summer.”
“Thank you.”
They reached the doors, but Mallory paused before going out and reached over to fiddle with a ring on her left hand, an unfamiliar diamond Caleb hadn’t noticed until now. He knew Mallory had been seeing someone named Charles for several months, but he didn’t realize it was serious. “Is that—”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh. Uh, congratulations.” Why were the women around him suddenly deciding to get married? Was there something in the water? At least Mallory wasn’t marrying the man who had broken up their marriage. It would have been hard to take, having his daughter living with him. Caleb managed an awkward hug. “I hope you’re very happy together.”
“Thank you, Caleb. I appreciate that.”
“So when is the wedding?”
“August fifth.” She smirked. “You’re not invited.”
“Ah, I assumed not.”
“But I will need to take Fleur shopping for a dress and some other wedding-related activities during the summer.”
“Of course.” Technically, he had Fleur all summer except for every other weekend, but they’d always been flexible with one another’s schedules. “Let me know, and I can bring her in, or you can pick her up.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll see you...whenever.”
“Okay, then. Bye, Mallory.” He watched her go out the door. Mallory was getting married, which meant Fleur would have a stepfather whom Caleb had never met. He only knew about the man because Fleur occasionally mentioned him in passing. She seemed okay with him, if not terribly enthusiastic. But then, Fleur’s enthusiasms didn’t tend to embrace the adults in her life right now.
Could this be why Fleur was suddenly having problems in school? Was she worried about this sudden change in her life? Once more, Caleb was completely out of the loop. He just wished he could fix the locker or Fleur’s attitude or something—but to some degree, Mallory was right. The assignments were Fleur’s responsibility, and ultimately, she had to be the one to do them. And she would have to be the one to forge a relationship with her stepfather. It wasn’t as though Caleb didn’t have enough on his plate. Between dealing with Christabel’s upcoming absence and the farm chores—oh, speaking of chores, he should have time to pick up that thermostat before heading back home for the meeting with Christabel.
What time was it now? He patted his pockets. Shoot, his phone must have fallen out of his pocket when he was sitting in the counselor’s office.
Of course it did. Because that was the sort of luck he was having today.
GEN CLOSED THE office door and turned to her mentor. “What do you think? Will Fleur do the work?”
Doreen made another note and closed the file. “I’m optimistic. She’s shown before she can. Being at her father’s house might make a difference. He sounds sincere about making sure she does the assignments. But then, some people are much better at making promises than keeping them.”
Yes, Gen knew all about those people. She used to be married to one. Larry had been quite convincing when he’d promised to be faithful to her. And when he’d promised to be a hands-on, involved dad. And—after he’d broken both of those promises and Gen had divorced him and moved herself and her daughters home to Alaska—when he’d promised to stay in touch with his girls. And yet, the last time he’d initiated a call to them had been on Maya’s birthday, seven months ago, and only because Gen had reminded him two weeks in advance.
But somehow, she got the idea Caleb DeBoer might be different. After all, as soon as he’d learned of the meeting, he had dropped everything to drive from Willow to Anchorage this morning. Larry would never have done that. Still, “Why wasn’t he involved for the past few months? You sent an email as soon as Fleur’s grades dropped, and then we had that meeting six weeks ago. Why now?”
“Well, that might be my fault,” Doreen admitted. “The email we had on file for him bounced, and when I contacted the mom to update it, she said he didn’t live here and implied he wasn’t involved in Fleur’s life. So I let it go. We had his phone number. I should have called him directly.”
“Well, anyway, he’s involved now. Hopefully, it will make the difference.”
“Fingers crossed.” Doreen glanced at the clock and gathered up an armful of folders. “I’m due in the principal’s office in five minutes to go over some things.” She grinned. “Including the evaluation for your internship, which—spoiler alert—will be excellent. You’re going to make a great school counselor.”
“Thanks, Doreen. That means a lot, coming from you.”
“So you’re done with all your classes?”
“All but my last few papers for this internship. I have a job this summer with a gift shop downtown, but I’m hoping to start as counselor this fall.”
“Have you applied for any jobs yet?”
“Sure. For every open position in the Anchorage School District.”
“You want to stay in Anchorage?”
“I’d like to. I grew up here, and I have family.”
Doreen tucked the folders into a tote bag. “Are you hoping to get something on the south side close to home?”
“Not necessarily. It’s my brother’s house, actually, and once I’m employed and independent, I’d like to find a new place for me and the girls.”
“Yeah, I can see that. A friend of mine manages an apartment building on the east side, so if you want something in that area, I could set you up with her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Doreen.”
Doreen glanced at the clock. “Oops, gotta go.”
As she slipped out the office door, Gen’s cell phone vibrated. Speaking of summer jobs... She cleared her throat and answered in her most professional but friendly voice, “Hi. This is Gen.”
“Gen, it’s Marsha, manager of Arctic Heirlooms downtown.”
“Yes, Marsha. I’m looking forward to working with you. Are we still on for training a week from Friday?”
“Um, that’s why I’m calling. Turns out we’re not going to be needing extra help this summer after all.”
“Oh, but I thought—”
“I thought so, too, but it seems the owner had already hired someone to fill the position and neglected to let me know.”
“Huh. That seems kind of, uh, counterproductive.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So you don’t even need anyone part-time?”
“I’m afraid not. Sorry. I know you were counting on this summer job.”
“I—Yeah. I don’t suppose you know anyone else who’s hiring?”
“Not off the top of my head. But if I hear of any openings, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay. Well, goodbye.”
“Bye.” Gen almost thanked her again, and then realized there was no real reason to thank someone for firing you. What was it they said about the best-laid plans?
Now what? She’d been hoping to make enough money from this job to be able to move out of Tanner’s house in a month or two. Tanner’s wife, Natalie, taught at a college in New Mexico and they lived there most of the year, but they usually came home for at least a few weeks in the summer. Tanner adored his nieces, and so did Natalie, but Gen couldn’t help but feel that they should be able to enjoy their own home without having Maya and Evie underfoot all day long.
“Excuse me.”
Gen jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind her.
Caleb DeBoer stood at the door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. The door was open. I believe I left my phone in here.”
Gen crossed to the conversation area and spotted the phone wedged between the seat and the arm of the chair. “Here it is.” She handed it over to Caleb.
“Thanks.” He tucked it into his pocket. “And thanks again for calling me about Fleur and the meeting. I didn’t realize she was in grade trouble, or I would have stepped in earlier.”
“I gathered that. I’m sorry we didn’t contact you before.”
“I understand. So her mother just told me she’s getting remarried. Could that have something to do with Fleur’s problem? Is she rebelling?”
Gen had noticed the ring. “It’s certainly possible, but I don’t really think so. When I’ve talked with Fleur, she hasn’t mentioned being upset about anything like that.” If anything, Fleur was more caught up in the day-to-day drama that was life in middle school, but Fleur had mentioned that in confidence. “Honestly, I think she simply needs to develop better organization and motivation. Middle school is different than elementary. Believe me, Fleur isn’t the first student to have difficulties adjusting to having several different teachers and classes to juggle. I believe, with your support, she’ll be able to make up the work, and with a year of experience under her belt, she’ll do better next year.”
“I hope so.” He started to turn away, but then he paused. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear part of your telephone conversation. I gather you had a job fall through?”
“I did,” Gen admitted, wondering why he cared. “I’m hoping for a position as a school counselor in the fall, but in the meantime, I’d planned to work in a gift shop downtown for the summer. But they changed their minds.”
“Are you good with social media?”
“Average, I’d say. I know the basics. Why do you ask?”
“Well, as it happens, I know of a job opening you might want to consider.”
“Oh?”
“The Susitna Peony Cooperative’s sales and marketing manager is taking a leave of absence, and we need a temporary replacement.”
“Sales and marketing manager?” Gen had a bachelor’s in psychology and was about to finish her master’s in counseling. Her only sales experience had been as a barista. “I don’t know that I’m qualified. It sounds—”
He chuckled, and she was struck by how much more approachable he seemed with a smile on his face. Handsome, even, with strong features and dark hair with a tendency to curl. “Keep in mind that the manager is also the entire staff. Basically, the job is to keep track of the members’ peony inventory, accept orders and promote the co-op by posting pictures, articles and things like that on social media. It’s part-time—twenty hours a week.”
“Is this something I could do from Anchorage?”
“In theory, but you’d be driving back and forth all the time to visit the farms, take pictures, things like that, so it would be better to live in the area. There are seven peony farms in our co-op, four around Willow, two around Wasilla and one near Big Lake.”
“I don’t know. I have two daughters and I doubt it would be easy to find a short-term lease.” With several popular lakes in the Willow area, summer rentals would be in high demand.
He thought for a moment. “Maybe I could help with that. I have an empty cabin on my farm. It’s nothing fancy—two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen and living room combination.”
“Bathroom, as in running water?” Gen loved her family’s off-the-grid cabin in the backcountry, but she wasn’t too keen on spending an entire summer without plumbing. Especially with two little girls.
Caleb laughed. “Yes, hot running water. Electricity. Propane stove. Even internet and a dishwasher. All the modern conveniences.”
“That sounds nice. How much would you want in rent? And do you know about how much this job pays?”
The figure he quoted was more than she would have made working at the gift shop. “I’d throw in the cabin for free.”
“Free? Why?”
“Why not? It’s just sitting there, empty.”
“That’s very generous. The job sounds intriguing. How do I apply?”
“You just did. I’m currently co-op board chair, so it’s my job to find a replacement. Officially, I’ll need board approval so if you’d shoot me a résumé or something to show them, I’d appreciate it, but if I can give them a qualified applicant, they’re not going to say no.”
“Don’t you want to know my qualifications, or work history or anything?”
“Well, you deal with middle school students all day, so you’re obviously patient if not a bona fide saint. You just earned an advanced degree, so I’d imagine you pick up knowledge quickly. Your boss seems to like you, so I suspect you’re dependable. I’m sure you had to pass a background check to work in the school district, so you’re not a serial killer. You don’t hate flowers, do you?”
“I love flowers.”
“Well, then, consider this a job offer.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Could she take the girls and move to the Mat-Su Valley for the summer to live on a farm with a man she just met? The job sounded interesting, and she did love flowers, peonies especially. “Let me give it some thought. When do you need my answer?”
“Sooner is better, but a week would be okay.”
“All right, then. I’ll email you a résumé and let you know, one way or the other, by next Wednesday.” Or sooner, because if she wasn’t going to take the job, she needed to get busy finding another one.
“Great. You’ve got my number. My place is called Jade Farm if you want to look it up. There’s a link from the Susitna Peony Cooperative website. I’d give you a business card, but I ran out.” He grinned. “If you take the job, you should probably order more.”
She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“All right, then. It was good meeting you, Gen, and I hope to see you again soon.”
