Page 33 of Bridge to Home

“As long as we have the fire extinguisher handy.”

Lottie looked from father to daughter. “I’m missing a private joke.”

“I tried helping Dad in the restaurant’s kitchen one day, when he was making his famous apple crumb pie.”

David picked up. “Harlow decided we neededextraapples in the filling. I let her talk me into overstuffing the pie before putting it in the oven.”

“Let me guess.” Lottie snapped her fingers. “It bubbled over.”

“Big time. I thought it was catching fire, so I grabbed the fire extinguisher and started spraying the inside of the oven,” Harlow said.

“What a mess.” David shook his head. “Of course, the pie was ruined.”

“And I never asked to help Dad make his famous apple crumble pie again.” Harlow nudged him. “I’m ready to try again when you are.”

Lottie slid her glove off and scratched her forehead. “What are you two up to today?”

“We’re gonna go home and put the groceries away. In fact, I better get a move on before the ice cream melts.”

“Why don’t you come by for…”

David quickly cut her off. “Harlow and I already have plans.”

Lottie’s shoulders drooped. “Plans?”

“Yes…uh. We’re going to take Winnie out for a spin. We best be going. I’ll see you later, Lottie.” He called Mort, who was busy digging a hole.

Harlow waited until they were out of earshot. “I didn’t know we were taking the sailboat out.”

“Neither did I, but now that I think about it, the weather is ideal for a cruise around the island.”

Harlow lifted her head and gazed at the clear blue skies. “I have so many fond memories of cruising around in Winnie. It won’t be long before it will be time to winterize her.”

“We have a few more weeks, but you know how fickle early fall can be. We need to take advantage of the nice days while we can.” David made quick work of putting the groceries away. Harlow helped as much as she could and finally gave up when she realized she was doing the exact opposite.

“I’ll go grab my windbreaker.” Checking to make sure Mort wasn’t lurking behind her, Harlow spunaround and began making her way toward her room.

“Do you want some help?”

“I think I can manage.” She cleared her bedroom doorway and swung around.

Mort was close behind. He cut in front of her, blocking her path. “Do you want to come in?”

He promptly ambled inside and flopped down. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re gonna have to back up a little more so I can close the door.”

He placed his head on his paw, refusing to budge.

Harlow wiggled her foot off the footrest. Ignoring the sharp pain, she nudged him to the side.

“Good gravy,” she huffed. “Something tells me the physical therapist will have her work cut out for her.”

With Mort out of the way, she closed the door and wheeled herself over to the bed. Harlow pulled her cell phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. She noticed a recent text with an attachment. It was from the film studio.

She clicked on the attachment, an addendum extending her start date for the project. Along with the attachment was a note, asking her to sign it and return it.

“Robert.” Harlow promptly dialed her husband’s cell phone number. The call went directly to voicemail. “Hello, Robert. Please call me as soon as you get this message.”

She ended the call and stared at the phone, wondering if he was intentionally avoiding her. The majority of their recent communication was done via text. When she’d checked out of the hospital. When she’d boarded the plane…after arriving on Mackinac Island.

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