Page 39 of Bridge to Home

“It makes perfect sense. There’s plenty of room for you…and your husband to have a part-time home here.” David threw out a few ideas. Ideas about how they could create a private space for his daughter and Robert if he joined her.

Harlow didn’t have the heart to tell him it was athought,not necessarily a done deal. There were a lot of negotiations which would need to take placefirst. Her gut told her Robert would not be on board, would not be interested in spending time on Mackinac Island—not by a longshot.

Working together, it didn’t take long for father and daughter to finish preparing their brunch. Harlow balanced her plate on her lap and followed her dad to the front porch. He brought along a handful of special treats for Mort, who made his rounds back and forth.

“Mort woke me up again this morning.”

“I’m almost positive I made sure your door was shut.”

“He’s smart. I bet he somehow figured out how to push down on the handle and let himself in.”

“Naughty dog,” David scolded.

“It’s okay. I would rather be woken up by Mort licking me than an alarm clock any day,” Harlow said. “He’s a good dog. Nice and mellow.”

While they ate, David told Harlow he had a few errands to run, including running into town to mail packages. “You can go with me.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll hang out here. I don’t want to overdo it before the physical therapy, massage therapy, whatever Kennedy has up her sleeve.”

“I understand.”

After finishing their meal, they made quick work of cleaning up and storing the leftovers. David, with Mort by his side, left not long after.

Harlow, thinking the least she could do was help dust, tracked down a dust rag and got to work. She quickly found out it was an ambitious idea…and an almost utter failure.

Thinking a spin around the property might clear her head, she steered her scooter out the front door, down the ramp and along the sidewalk. Making a wide circle, she stopped to admire the flowerbed Lottie had been working on the previous day.

Harlow thought about the relationship between the woman and her father. She detected a note of interest, at least on Lottie’s end, but was getting no reading at all from her dad.

He’d always been careful about showing his emotions in front of others. Harlow briefly wondered if David ever wished he’d had a son.

He’d never mentioned wanting a son. Neither had her mother. All the couple had ever shown their daughter was unconditional love. They had also encouraged her creativity during her teen years when she was trying to figure life out.

Last, but not least, the Wynns had instilled a strong work ethic. Harlow spent every summer working at Wynn Harbor Inn. She’d also taken a part-time job at the Grand Hotel, even during the school year. As soon as her homework was done, Harlow cleaned guests’ rooms, she waited tables in the restaurant, worked at the front desk checking people in.

She veered left, circling back toward the cottage. She cruised past the other cottages that weren’t damaged by the fire, coming to an abrupt halt when she noticed a stained-glass suncatcher in the front window of one of them. Harlow immediately recognized it as one she’d made years ago in grade school.

She steered the scooter down the sidewalk to the front porch, her heart plummeting when she realized there was no way to reach the door, short of crawling to it.

“Hey.”

Harlow turned to find Eryn flagging her down. “Did you get my text?”

“No. I forgot and left my cell phone on the kitchen counter.”

“I ran into your dad in town.”

“He invited me to go with him. I figured I would stay close to home and try not to overdo it before the physical therapist got here.” Harlow motionedto the vacant cottage’s front door. “Do you know what Dad keeps in here?”

Eryn nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I noticed the suncatcher in the window. It was one I made in grade school.”

Her friend glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t think Pops Wynn is going to be back for a little while. I know where he hides the key if you want to look inside.”

Harlow gazed at the front door with the daisy yellow curtains. “Do you think he’ll be upset if we go in?”

“I don’t know.”

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