Sisters by Choice Page 6

  “I don’t know,” Kristine said. “I heard the ovens were still there.” Big, beautiful industrial-size ovens that could make her dreams come true.

  “You should go look.”

  “No. What’s the point? I could never open a bakery. It would be too expensive.”

  “It’s a lease, not a buy. If the equipment’s there, what would the costs be? Do you know?”

  Kristine did know. She worked up a business plan nearly every year, modifying it to reflect lease payments and various improvements. But she wasn’t going to say that—even to Ruth. Her dream was private.

  “There might be room for you to do shipping,” her mother-in-law said. “I know the tourists are always asking if you ship cookies. That would be a different income stream.”

  Kristine grinned. “What do you know about income streams?”

  “I’ve been doing some reading online. I might not have a fancy education but I know things.”

  From overhead came the sound of footsteps.

  “Someone’s up,” Kristine said as she stood and stretched. She put the last of the cookies in the box she used to transport them and looked around the kitchen. It was as spotless as it had been when she’d started. She’d washed everything and put it all away. Ruth would get the boys off to school and Kristine would sleep for a couple of hours before starting her day.

  “Good luck with the herd,” she said as she headed for the stairs, pausing to let all three boys barrel past her as they yelled, “Nana! Nana! What’s for breakfast?”

  She told herself she was lucky—she was surrounded by love and support. A great husband and kids, wonderful in-laws, a mother who offered sage advice and took the kids for two weeks every summer. She was happy. Totally and completely content.

  As for the idea of leasing the bakery and starting her own business—that was a silly dream she should just forget about. What she had now was plenty.

  * * *

  Sophie finished up at the warehouse around five in the afternoon. She wanted to stay longer, but the truth was she needed to get the keys to her rental and get moved in there. She could go back to work in the morning.

  The shelving units had been delivered. Bear was getting them put together and in place. The shipping area was also coming along. Orders were piling up so Sophie was spending some of her time getting the boxes filled and sent out. The local job fair was Tuesday, and the employment agency was working on filling the more specialized positions. Considering she’d started with an empty warehouse less than a week ago, things were going great. Not great like they had been, but better than when she’d first arrived.

  She drove to the real estate office, showed ID and picked up her key. The house was in one of the central neighborhoods, about as far from the ocean as you could get and still be on the island. Not that Sophie cared about the view—when was she going to be home?

  She parked in front of a one-story ranch-style house. The yard was small but in decent shape. Inside, the place was clean but plain. The kitchen was about twenty years old, as were the bathrooms. One of the three bedrooms had an attached three-quarter bath, making it a master of sorts. The rooms were all sparsely furnished.

  She went out to the garage and saw that her personal belongings had indeed been delivered. Twenty boxes were neatly stacked. She shifted them until she found one labeled “Linens” and opened it. The sight of her familiar sheets and blankets comforted her.

  She made her bed, hung up towels and then forced herself to head to the grocery store. After that she would go to bed early so she could be back at work by six the following morning. The sooner she got CK Industries up and running, the better she would feel. Maybe then the gnawing sense of nothing being right would finally go away.

  Chapter Five

  Heather knew that one day she wanted to meet someone special, get married and have a couple of kids. But for her, “one day” was years in the future. She felt too young by half and with no clear plan for her future, taking on responsibility for another life—beyond her mother, of course—seemed daunting. But her friend Gina had done exactly that without a second thought. She’d gotten married out of high school to the only guy she’d ever dated. She and Quincy had wanted kids right away so a year after their wedding, Noah had been born. Now the happy guy was fourteen months old and quickly morphing from baby to toddler.

  Daphne, Heather’s other close friend, had taken the college route. She was wrapping up her sophomore year at the University of Washington. She made it home a few weekends a quarter and spent summers on the island.

  Both of them had done something with their lives, Heather thought as she sat across from Gina at her friend’s kitchen table. Both of them knew what they wanted and had made it happen. Heather, on the other hand, had little to show for the past two-plus years of her life. She was working harder than ever, but going nowhere. The only thing that was looking up was her new job with Sophie.

  “You have to be really upset about school,” Gina said sympathetically. “I know you wanted to take two more classes spring quarter.”

  Heather didn’t talk about her mother with very many people, but Gina and Daphne knew the truth.

  “I’m so angry,” Heather admitted. “She always does that. Just when I get a little bit ahead, she swoops in and takes the money.”

  “She doesn’t take it,” Gina murmured before shrugging. “I’m just saying, Heather. You have to take responsibility for your part in it.”

  “You think I should tell her no.”

  “Everyone thinks you should tell her no.” Gina’s expression turned sympathetic. “I get that’s easy for me to say. She’s your mom and you’ve been taking care of her all your life. Walking away from that, from who you are, would be really hard. I just hate to see you trapped.”

  “Me, too,” Heather said, wishing there was a bright side to her situation. “Once I get my degree, things will be different. I’ll have options.” She managed a smile. “Plus, with you taking a class with me in the fall, I have to go back to school or you’ll kick my ass.”

  Gina grinned. “I don’t see myself as the ass-kicking type, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Her humor faded. “I wish you could move out. You need to get away from her.”

  “I know but it’s not that easy to do.”

  “I just don’t understand her and how she treats you. It’s not right. I’d never ask Noah to give up something for me. I want to make his life better.”

  Heather knew that Gina was trying to be supportive, but the words weren’t helping. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the reason Amber wasn’t happy. Her mother always talked about everything she could have done and been, if only she hadn’t gotten pregnant.

  For a long time Heather had believed every word her mother said. She’d grown up feeling guilty for being alive. Over time her views had shifted and now there were days when she knew that whatever happened, her mother would find a way to be unhappy and blame someone else. It was simply who Amber was. But those days didn’t come often enough. There were times when Heather wondered if she was ignoring the obvious—that in some ways she was just like her mother, blaming someone else for her circumstances. Leaving at sixteen or even eighteen had been impossible, but what about now? She was twenty. She had a car. She could get a job somewhere else. So why not just drive across Getaway Bridge and keep going?

  Part of the reason was she no longer had a nest egg. With the six thousand dollars gone, she was left with whatever she got on her next paycheck. There was also the nagging suspicion that her mom couldn’t make it without her. Amber didn’t pay any of the bills, didn’t buy food. If Heather left, how would she survive? And while she could tell herself that wasn’t her problem, she couldn’t make herself believe it. Which meant Gina was right—she was trapped, and she couldn’t seem to find a way out.

  * * *

  CK Industries was bustling.
Sophie enjoyed the activity, knowing it meant her company was getting back on its feet. Today she was hosting a local job fair and the employment agency was sending her candidates for a bookkeeping position and an office manager.

  She pulled Heather out of shipping to help with the surprisingly large crowd of people who had shown up for the 10 a.m. fair. Sophie looked at the twenty-five or thirty people in the parking lot and thought maybe she should have hired an office manager first. Or put some thought into the job fair. She wasn’t even sure how many people she needed and for what positions.

  Sophie yelled for Bear as she dragged a rolling dry-erase board into the main part of the warehouse.

  “How many people do you need and why?” she asked, pulling the cap off a marker. “You said an inventory person.”

  “I said inventory control. There’s a difference. We need at least three more stockers and pickers. You know, at some point you’re going to have to look at robots.”

  “Not today.” She wrote down inventory control manager, stockers-slash-pickers. “Do you really think we’ll find someone who has experience with inventory control during a job fair?”

  “If we don’t, you can tell the employment agency. At least this way, there’s no fee.”

  Sophie liked the sound of that. “Okay, who else?”

  “We need more people in shipping,” Heather said. “At least two.” She hesitated. “I know I’ve only been working here a couple of days, but I’ve kept track of how many orders I can fulfill in a shift and even if I get faster we need two more people.”

  Sophie smiled at her. “I trust your assessment.” She added shippers to the list.

  “A janitor of some kind. You need people on the phones for order processing.” Bear thought for a moment. “Is the person on the phone an order taker?”

  “We do all that online,” she said. “And we have customer service. I use a call center for that so it’s taken care of. Any problems they can’t resolve are routed to us but there aren’t very many.”

  “Still, someone needs to have the responsibility. If it’s not a full-time job, then it needs to be lumped in with something else.” Bear frowned. “How did you do things back in California? Don’t you have your org chart? We can just duplicate that.”

  “I don’t have one.” She frowned at him. “I’ve been too busy to deal with hiring people until now. I was here until ten last night, unpacking cases of cat food. How do you think everything gets on the shelves?”

  “That’s not your job, Sophie. You’re not focused on what’s important. Just because you can do every job doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to spend your time that way.”

  “There isn’t anyone else.”

  Bear sighed loudly. “That’s what the job fair is for.”

  They glared at each other.

  Heather cleared her throat. “So, um, are these all the positions that are open?”

  Sophie looked at the list on the board. “For now.”

  “Who’s doing the interviewing?” Heather asked.

  “I am.”

  Bear rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re doing it yourself. Why ask for help when you’re so damned capable? Desks are getting delivered later today. You can put them together and drag them into place and while you’re at it, give the place a new coat of paint.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Your attitude isn’t making me like you more.”

  “Good to know. I’m beginning to think you were successful in spite of yourself and not because of any skill set you have.”

  “You did not just say that.”

  “I did and we both know it’s true.”

  Heather took a step back. “The kids don’t like it when mom and dad fight.”

  Sophie forced a smile. “We’re not fighting. Bear’s being a big ol’ butthead. There’s a difference.” The man clearly didn’t understand how much work was involved with a company like CK Industries. No one knew the business as well as she did. No one cared as much.

  Amber walked into the warehouse. “There are people waiting out there. They’ve formed a line. I didn’t think you expected me to wait in that.” She paused expectantly. “I’m here.”

  Sophie wished there was an alternative to hiring Amber, but couldn’t figure out what it might be. At least her cousin was walking a little more quickly and without help.

  “Great,” she said. “You wanted to answer phones, right? So why didn’t you show up before today?”

  “You never called me and told me to start.”

  “But you knew I didn’t have anyone working here. You knew I needed help.”

  Amber sighed. “Do you want me to answer phones or not?”

  Sophie waved toward the offices. Amber walked into the first one, then turned back. “There’s no desk.”

  “Yes, but there’s a phone.”

  As if on cue, the phone started ringing.

  Sophie pointed. “That would be for you.”

  “But there’s no desk. There’s no paper or pen or computer and there’s no desk.”

  The phone continued to ring. Heather jogged over and picked it up. “CK Industries, this is Heather, can I help you?”

  Amber folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not working without a desk or supplies. It’s ridiculous. Why are you hiring people if you’re not ready for them? This is no way to run a business.”

  Bear disappeared into his office. He returned with a chair, a pad of paper and a pen. “Here. You’ll get a desk later.”

  Heather gestured frantically for the paper and pen. “Uh-huh. The wrong mugs. I’m sorry. Let me look into that. Do you have your order number?”

  She wrote down the information and promised that someone would call back. When she hung up, she tried to give the information to her mother.

  “No way,” Amber told her. “I’m not dealing with a bunch of cranky customers. I’ll answer the phones for CK Industries but you need someone else to process complaints. That is not my thing. Plus, I need a desk.”

  “The desks are coming,” Sophie said, trying not to grit her teeth. “Until then, can you please make do?”

  Amber held up her hands. “You’re in a mood. I didn’t know you’d be difficult to work for. I’m not sure this is going to work out for me.”

  Bear wheeled the chair into the empty office. “Please try,” he said.

  Sophie reached for the piece of paper. “I’ll find out about the order.”

  Bear snatched the information from her. “No, you’ll interview people. I’ll find out about the order.”

  “But...”

  He pointed to the loading dock door where people were waiting. “Sophie, hire some people.”

  “I’m hiring, I’m hiring.”

  But before she could return to the waiting applicants, a big flatbed truck drove into the parking lot. Sophie grinned at Bear.

  “There it is, in all its glory.”

  “What is it?” Amber asked.

  “A forklift. I’m in love.”

  Bear looked from the delivery truck to her and back. “Let me guess. You can drive a forklift.”

  “Of course. Bear, there’s no position in my company that I can’t do.”

  He returned his attention to her. “I’m sure that’s true.”

  “You say that like it’s not a good thing.”

  He shook his head, then pointed at the open loading dock door. “Get me some help.”

  “You’re so bossy.”

  But she spoke the words with a smile. She had a new forklift. It was going to be a good day.

  * * *

  Kristine drove to the private airstrip just beyond the bridge to the mainland. Her second part-time job was catering to the private jets that used the tiny airport. With the exception of Bruno, there were only a handful of flights a year, but Bruno made his way to t
he area at least once a month, sometimes more often. The pilot contacted her a couple of days before each flight, letting her know what Bruno would like to have on board. Kristine provided the food and billed the company leasing the jet.

  She had no professional culinary training, but a friend of hers had told her about the job a couple of years ago and Kristine had applied. Her interview had required her to provide lunch. She’d offered a version of high tea but instead of smoked salmon or egg salad sandwiches, she’d made little sandwich squares of turkey and Brie, and her mother’s famous chicken curry. She added her blackberry brownies, a couple of bottles of local wine and had been hired in fewer than three bites.

  Kristine wasn’t interested in catering, but the markup for the private jet meals was 300 percent. Plus, she had an unlimited budget on food. It was fun to head to Seattle every couple of months and stock up on exotic ingredients to supplement what she got locally.

  Bruno Provencio was a wine distributor. He flew into the area to make deals with winemakers. At least she thought that was what he did. He’d been vague and she was afraid to ask for specifics, fearing she would sound like the country—or island—bumpkin she was. He was not much taller than she was, but very good-looking and so well dressed. He always had on a gorgeous suit she suspected cost more than her mortgage and car payment combined. And he was nice. Whenever he flew in, he always asked about her family and complimented her on the previous meal. Yes, she was a happily married woman, but every now and then it was fun to hang out with a handsome man who flew in a private jet and talked about wine and going to Italy or France the way she talked about going to Costco.

  She arrived a few minutes before the jet was due to land and parked her SUV. The day was cloudy, but there didn’t seem to be much energy in the clouds, so she doubted it would rain. As she sat in the quiet of her car, she thought about what Ruth had mentioned—the bakery space now for lease in town.