Kisses in the Rain Read Free Page B

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