Page 24 of Bridge to Home

“You look like you’re on the way to the dentist for a root canal,” he joked.

“It feels about the same. Being in a wheelchair, going out in public, having to deal with people staring at me.”

“Which is something they’ve been doing for years,” David pointed out. “Being the center of attention, that is.”

Mort trotted over and nudged Harlow’s hand. “Can I give him a bite?”

“Not the bagel, but feel free to share some of the scrambled eggs you haven’t touched.”

“I’m not hungry.” Harlow scooped a handful and offered them to the pup, who promptly gobbled them up. Mort licked her hand to show his appreciation.

“I thought you wanted to get on your feet as soon as possible.”

“I do, but I had hoped to do it away from gawkers, cameras and reporters.” Harlow nibbled the edge of the bagel. “Not counting the flights here, this will be the first time I’ve been out in public since my accident.”

“You can always cancel and wait until the doctor is able to schedule a home visit.”

“Which isn’t much of a choice, is it?” Harlow sipped her orange juice and pushed her plate away. “I might as well go get ready.”

After helping clear the table, she “scooter’d” her way to the bedroom, making a quick stop by the bathroom. Although it wasn’t necessarily quick. Dressing, brushing her teeth, and doing almostanything was a major undertaking, which only solidified her resolve to get back on her feet as quickly as possible. And every leg muscle still hurt.

Finally, she finished and returned to the living room. David stood patiently waiting by the door. “Eryn is out front with the buggy. We’ll be on our way as soon as we swap out the scooter for the wheelchair.”

Making good time, Harlow and her father reached the front gate and found Eryn standing on the sidewalk, pacing.

“There you are. I was getting ready to send an SOS to make sure you were okay.”

“I had to go to the bathroom.” Harlow waited for her dad to lift her onto the bench seat. He placed the wheelchair behind them and slid in next to it.

A couple were seated near the front, and Harlow could feel the woman watching her.Tourists.She slipped her sunglasses on and turned her head.

While they rode, their driver described points of interest, confirming Harlow’s suspicions they were visitors and not locals.

Reaching the downtown area’s ferry dock, David hopped off first, grabbed Harlow’s wheelchair and had a quick word with the carriage driver. In less than a minute, the trio were on their way.

Because of the early hour, only a handful of passengers were returning to the mainland, which meant the three of them had most of the seating area to themselves.

Harlow stared out the window, watching the island become smaller and the mainland grow larger. As soon as they docked, her father tracked down the driver he’d hired who was waiting at the end of the pier. Within minutes they were out of the harbor and had pulled up in front of a large brick medical center.

Back in the wheelchair. Through the doors. Down the hall. In the elevator. Harlow wentthrough the motions, mentally shifting into autopilot.

She thought about Robert. He’d sent her a text the previous evening, asking how she was doing. Harlow’s return reply was equally brief.

He sent a second text, reminding her she still had several days before needing to be on the set, which meant the contract was still intact. The realization he was holding out hope for a miracle…that Harlow would be back on her feet and back at work struck her full force.

It was almost as if he didn’t care about her. His concern now centered on the job, her career, his reputation and, most of all, the money.

Harlow didn’t bother replying. Maybe the physical therapist could give her a glimmer of hope…a firm timeline. An attainable goal. Her gut told her it wasn’t going to happen before her scheduled arrival in Vancouver.

Robert could continue living in his fantasy world, believing his wife would somehow make a miraculous recovery for as long as he wanted.

“We’re here.” Eryn held the hall door while David pushed his daughter into the waiting room. She checked in at the front desk and then waited off to the side to be called to the back.

Lowering her head, Harlow furtively studied the others in the room. She was the only one in a wheelchair. Maybe this was a good sign. The therapist was the best in the area, a leader in her field, according to Doctor Ashton.

The door opened. A woman with a clipboard appeared. “Harlow Wynn?”

“I’ll wait out here.” Eryn gave her a thumbs up. “It’s all downhill from here.”

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