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CARLYPEEKEDTHROUGHthe blinds of her bedroom window the next morning and then let them quickly close again before the long line of people standing outside Sealena Bookstore and Museum could see her.
July first and the crowds were just in time.
Summer in Port Serenity, Alaska, saw a huge boost in tourists from all over the world, as children were on vacation from school and the weather was nice and warm. The North Pacific icebergs visible in the marina melted and moved farther away from the coastline, making access to the port town easier by boat and cruise ships that sailed from all over the USA. The town’s famed mythology was the biggest draw, but once visitors realized the beauty of this part of Alaska, surrounded by large mountains and wilderness with pristine lakes and waterfalls—an outdoorsman’s dream—they often returned for more than simply a chance, rare encounter or sighting of Sealena, the Serpent Queen.
However, just in case visitors didn’t get to see the real thing out on the various boat tours in town that “promised” a sighting, Carly’s Main Street store sold everything a Sealena fan could want—T-shirts, hats, books, figurines, replicas of historical documents...
From now until Labor Day, the lineup outside the store before 9:00 a.m. would be long. It was great for business, but within a week, Carly would be looking forward to her own well-deserved vacation at the end of the summer season.
With the official Sealena Festival four weeks away, there was so much to do. Her store built one of the floats featured in the parade that kicked off a week of Sealena-themed events and activities throughout town, and locals expected a different design each year. After thirty years, there were only so many unique concepts for the Serpent Queen’s ride, but Carly was determined to make sure she didn’t let the community down. So much of its economy depended on the next several months and the annual parade was a huge draw.
She showered and dressed quickly, braiding her long, thick dark hair, that still held remnants of the green dye on the ends. Then she applied mascara to her naturally long lashes and lip gloss to her lips. She didn’t bother with much makeup. She never had. Growing up with her nose stuck in a book, she’d never been interested in spending hours in front of a mirror. And sensible shoes were the only option for fourteen hours on her feet as store hours were extended until 10:00 p.m. in July and August.
That year, she’d finally hired an assistant to help run the store—a university student home for the summer. Melissa was studying history and folklore at the University of Alaska, and while her résumé had lacked any retail experience, Carly had taken a chance on her, knowing the work experience would help the girl’s future employment success. Having just arrived home the day before, Melissa was scheduled to start that afternoon and Carly hoped training her wouldn’t just end up being even more work for herself. Ideally, she would have preferred training someone during the slower lead-up to the season.
In her kitchen, she placed an espresso pod into the new coffee machine that she’d splurged on as a birthday gift for herself the month before, and the instantaneous scent of delicious caffeine filling her senses relieved her guilt over the extravagant purchase. This time of year, coffee was life. She deserved this.
Five minutes later, carrying her Sealena-themed coffee mug, she headed downstairs to the store. She unlocked the door that connected the storage room to the front salesroom and flicked on the interior lights.
She smiled as the place lit up. After four hours spent preparing the night before, everything was in place and ready. At least, until the mob outside descended.
New T-shirts with that year’s date on them, featuring various designs and sayings, had replaced the old stock. Sizes from children’s small to adult’s triple XL hung on the clothing racks. Five hundred copies of the latest Sealena-themed picture book, graciously signed by the local author, made a magnificent tower display near the front window. They’d disappear within the first week. The long-running children’s series featuring the adventures of the Serpent Queen were a hit, and Carly’s store was the only independent that sold them.
Protected within glass cabinets throughout the store were Sealena figurines and collectibles. Designs portraying the Serpent Queen rescuing ships and battling fierce ocean waves were on display with price tags that ranged from fan to obsessed.
Portraits and paintings from local artists hung on the walls, and the historical documents that told the original story of how the mythical creature was adopted as the community’s mascot were displayed in a special glass case near the counter. Included was the original signed letter from Earl Wakefield four generations ago. A duplicate was in the local Serpent Queen pub on the marina.
Carly loved the history all around her. Loved being a part of a deep-rooted community with its traditions and culture. There was nowhere else she’d rather be, nor anything she’d rather do. She held a teaching degree with a major in history and put the skills to good use by offering Sealena School twice a week at the store.
Her mother had run the Sealena Bookstore and Museum before her, officially retiring two years before, so Carly had grown up surrounded by the mythology that was Port Serenity. Being related to the Beaumonts on her mother’s side had meant juggling her passion for all things Serpent Queen and loyalty to her family’s civil servant legacy. But with her cousin Skylar breaking the Wakefield/Beaumont family feud by falling in love with Dex Wakefield, the lingering tension around town, that had spanned generations, seemed to evaporate.
Carly sipped her coffee, letting the hot liquid bolt of energy seep in as she scanned her float concept drawings on the counter, where she’d left them after midnight the night before. That year, she wanted to go bigger and better than ever. No friendly-looking Sealena lurking beneath smooth waters. She wanted huge, threatening waves and a fierce, strong female protector fighting the elements. She also wanted to honor the coast guard with the design, showing how the two were not opposing forces, but working together for the same goal—protecting those at sea. Therefore, the float needed to be much longer and slightly wider than previous years. The night before, under the cover of darkness, she’d measured the width of Main Street, taking into account the spectator zone, and she thought they could safely push the boundaries on the width restrictions by an inch or two.
Her phone chimed with a text message from where it lay on the counter. She reached for it and read:
It’s not too late to run away together.
Oliver.
If only he meant it...
Her heart warmed at the sight of his photo appearing above the message. The picture of him and his daughter Tess had been taken that Christmas before at the tree lighting ceremony, and it was one of her favorites, as his expression was happy and relaxed—a true rarity, as he always seemed to be carrying an unspoken heaviness...
They always started their day with a text. Just a quick one, but it was the highlight of her mornings. That chime sounding made her heart race at the thought that he started his day thinking about her just as she did him. Even if it was just in a best-friend kind of way—at least, from his perspective.
His text sounded casual enough, but she knew he was stressed about facing the start of his own busy season, with lighthouse tours being offered three or four times a day Monday to Friday. Unlike her, he at least had the weekends off, but these tours were tough on him.
Having lost his wife, Alison—Carly’s best friend—and his eldest daughter, Catherine, at sea three years before, Oliver was struggling to raise Tess on his own, still battling with the mystery of what happened that peaceful summer’s day at sea when the family’s new sailboat had disappeared.
Having strangers from all over the world invade his home was difficult enough, but especially so since Oliver’s tragic story was almost as much of a draw to curious visitors as the lighthouse’s history. The disappearance had made national news and Oliver’s quiet life had been on full display. Most of the time, it was easiest to stay in the shadows of the town’s popularity, but tourist season brought everything to light all over again.
Three tickets to Bali sounds nice...
She texted back and sighed. Three tickets to anywhere with Oliver and Tess would be a dream come true, but so far, that dream of becoming something more had eluded her, and besides some casual flirting when he seemed to forget all the reasons he shouldn’t flirt with her, Oliver had given her no indication that their friendship status would be changing anytime soon.
Carly tucked her phone into her pocket as the clock on the wall chimed, indicating the hour. With a final scan of the store, she took a deep breath and flipped the Closed sign to Open and unlocked the front door.
“Hello! Welcome to Port Serenity’s best souvenir shop,” she greeted the first customer in line as they entered, hoping her smile lasted the fourteen hours until closing.
