Page 38 of Bridge to Home

She flopped back down and closed her eyes. The clank and clatter of pots and pans echoed from the kitchen.

Mort heard it too. Mission accomplished…waking Harlow, meant it was time to monitor what was going on in the kitchen. He trotted to the door, nudged it open, and slipped out.

Harlow flipped over. She began wiggling her toes and moving her legs. Both still hurt, but not in a way that made her grit her teeth. It was more of a dull, lingering ache.

She flung the covers back and swung her lower half over the side. Scooting from bed to wheelchair confirmed her initial assessment. Harlow wasfeeling a tiny bit better. In fact, she was itching to meet with her new therapist and finalize a game plan.

A full day of hanging out at home with nothing to do had come and gone. But today would be different. It was the beginning of her road to recovery.

She wheeled herself into the bathroom where it took an agonizingly long time to complete her grooming tasks…tasks she would have flown through in minutes before the accident.

With her blond hair smoothed back in a single sleek ponytail, her teeth squeaky clean and sporting a comfy pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, she rolled her way out of the bedroom and through the house.

Harlow found her father standing at the stove, frying pan in front of him.

Mort stood at the ready, waiting for scraps to hit the floor so he could gobble them up.

“Hey, Dad.”

David glanced over his shoulder. “Good morning, Harlow. How did you sleep?”

“Like a bear with a full belly settling in for a long winter’s nap. I can’t remember the last time I slept this late.”

“Your body needs rest.”

“Apparently so.” Harlow rolled the rest of the way into the room. “The kitchen smells yummy.”

“We’re having fish tacos for brunch. After our spin around the island yesterday, and talking about taking the fishing boat out, I got a hankering for walleye tacos.”

“Put me to work.” Harlow rubbed her palms together. “What can I do to help?”

“I still need to chop a few things.” He set a cutting board on the table, along with a knife and the taco fixings next to it.

While they chatted, Harlow peeled and sliced avocados. Up next, she carved cabbage into thinslices and then began chopping fresh cilantro. “Do you still have a vegetable garden?”

“I gave it up a couple of years ago. It was too much work for one or two people to eat.” He told her Lottie had been nagging him to start gardening again. “Maybe next year.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had a farm to table meal,” Harlow said. “I’m not talking about the restaurant variety, but one I saw for myself where the food actually came from. Not to brag or anything, but I have a green thumb. Maybe if I stick around long enough, I’ll give you a hand.”

David stopped stirring and slowly turned to face her. “Stick around?”

Harlow scooped the cabbage into a bowl. “I have some serious soul searching to do. My entire life, my career in its current state. I’m not sure if I want to return to it, at least at the pace I’ve been keeping.”

He stared at her in disbelief, and Harlow could only imagine what was running through her father’s mind. She’d made it perfectly clear she would never step foot on Mackinac Island again, yet here she was, hinting at a complete restart.

She wouldn’t have believed it a month ago, but Harlow was beginning to realize changes needed to be made.

To be honest, she’d focused all her energy on building her career, building her image, and making money. She’d clawed her way to the top to get to where she was. What was next? More money? More runway deals? More movie contracts?

The truth of the matter was she wanted it all—financial security, a fabulous career and lifestyle. Yet she also yearned for a simpler life away from the spotlight. A quiet life with her husband and children. Hollywood was not a place to raise a family.

She and Robert needed to have a heart-to-heart talk. A real “sit down and let’s see what the futureholds” conversation. Harlow suspected they had two completely different ideas about what that would be.

She hoped not. They both worked hard…so very hard to get to where they were. It would be a shame to walk away. Perhaps there was a way to compromise and come up with a happy medium. The best of both worlds.

“You mean step away from all the glitz and glam?” David asked.

“Maybe not give it up altogether but carve out a better life balance, if that makes sense.”

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