Page 19 of Bridge to Home

The pup sank down on all fours and placed his head on his paws. The fur above his eyes wiggled up and down as he studied her.

Harlow was home. Not Malibu or Palm Beach home, but Mackinac Island home. Her father’s house. “I didn’t know Dad had a dog.” She glanced at the clock, discovering she’d been asleep for almost two hours.

A familiar faint sound echoed from the living room. It was her father, whistling a tune she’d heard many times growing up.

A happy tune, one she knew by heart. Harlow threw back the covers and scooted from the bed to her wheelchair. All the while, the dog watched her like a hawk.

She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing out her tousled locks. After a quick check in the mirror, she wheeled herself into the living room.

Whoo…whoo…who, who, who, whoo…whoo…who.She joined in, whistling the last line ofYankee Doodlealong with her father.

He stood near the front window, adjusting the blinds against the setting sun. The tune ended and Harlow broke out into a spontaneous round of applause. “I haven’t heard that song in forever.”

“Probably since the last time we whistled it.” Wynn checked the angle of the blinds, filtering in the light. “How was your nap?”

“Fabulous. I slept like a baby.” Harlow didn’t mention the bad dream, not wanting her dad to think it had something to do with him. The pup trotted over and plopped down beside her. “Is this your dog?”

“I suppose you could say that. Mort showed up on my doorstep one day and never left. Let me guess. He slobbered all over you.”

“Only my hand. Mort, huh?” Harlow playfully ruffled his ears. “I’m shocked you have a dog. Youwere adamant about not letting me have one growing up, no matter how much I begged.”

“We were too busy back then. Besides…like I said, this is all on Mort. He’s the one who made the first move and found me.” Her father told her he’d checked to see if he was chipped and posted flyers around the island, but no one had claimed him. “I guess you could say we adopted each other.”

“He’s a friendly fella.”

“Mort keeps me company. I have a surprise.” Her father hurried out of the living room, returning moments later cruising in on a brand spanking new bright blue mobility scooter. “You’re going to be riding around in style.”

“It got here fast.”

“I put a rush on the delivery.” He parked the scooter near the door. “While you were sleeping, I built a ramp and figured we could take this baby out for a spin after dinner. I also picked up ashower chair at the hardware store while I was in town.”

Harlow hung her head. She didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her father’s care and concern after so many years of shunning him. A wave of shame washed over her. Shame over her behavior. “Thank you. I’ll reimburse you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Harlow lifted her hand. “Seriously. I insist. I have more than enough money to pay for what I need.” Having taken a closer look around, she suspected money was tight, which made sense.

The inn was shut down. No inn = no income. In fact, now that she really thought about it, she wondered if her father had ever considered selling the property.

Surely, the local zoning department hadn’t turned a blind eye to the fact some of the inn’s structures were uninhabitable and unsafe. Although most of the fire damage…the lodge, restaurant, reception area, hotel rooms connected to the main structure weren’t visible from the street.

A few of the other cottages, only steps away, had also burned when the billowing flames blew across the road and caught the roofs on fire.

Harlow continued. “I’m more than able to pay for equipment, therapy, and my expenses while I’m here. I already feel guilty knowing I’m imposing.”

“You’re not imposing,” Wynn gruffly replied. “You’re my daughter and I love you.”

So many wasted years blaming her dad for the fire. It still didn’t explain who was behind it, but she was beginning to think she’d been wrong, so very wrong, for blaming him. “I have a lot to apologize for, Dad. When Mom died, I couldn’t…”

Her father cut her off. “We can talk about it later. Our number one priority is to get you up and out of the wheelchair. There will be plenty of time to hash over the past, but not today.”

He was right. There would be time to have a heart-to-heart. She forced a smile and dusted her hands. “I’m ready to take my fancy new set of wheels for a spin.”

David guided her from the wheelchair to the scooter. He helped lift one leg and then the other onto the footrest. “How does it feel?”

Harlow wiggled her toes. “Weird, but in a good way. Having to move me from one place to the other is going to get old.”

“I’ve done some research. The scooter company also sells an electric transfer chair. It comes apart in the middle and the seat slides under you. It then scoops you up and moves you from one spot to another, although the model I saw was a little pricey.”

---