Page 43 of Wynns of Change
She finished her food and threw the empty wrappers in the recycle bin. Harlow was only a few blocks away from the house when Selma called. Having learned her lesson, she pulled off the road before answering the call. “Hey, Selma.”
“Harlow. Thank God you answered. He’s back.”
“Robert?”
“Yes.” Selma’s voice lowered. “He showed up about half an hour ago. Robert is up in his room. He saw your stuff sitting on the counter and knows you’re here.”
Harlow’s heart hammered in her chest. There was no way she could avoid seeing him. Maybe her husband showing up was a good thing. She could put her plan into action. Her idea about how to convince Robert their marriage was over, yet also make it seem like he was the one who was making the decision.
Hopefully, her plan wouldn’t backfire and blow up in her face.
Chapter 19
“Do you think you can help me, Selma?”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.” Harlow filled her in on her plan. “As soon as I get back to the house, I’ll pull into the garage and you’ll come out to greet me.”
“Yes. I’ll follow your lead and agree with whatever you say. How long will you be?”
Harlow mentally calculated the timeframe, factoring in stops for her to pick up a few items. “Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour.”
“I’ll be here. Robert is still upstairs. He’s waiting for you to come home.”
“Do I have a surprise for him. I’ll see you soon.” Harlow did a quick online search for home healthcare supply stores. She lucked out and found one only a few blocks from where she was parked.
Reaching the store, she discovered they were getting ready to close. Rushing up and down every aisle, she grabbed all sorts of stuff. Better to have too much than to forget something.
The woman at the checkout counter stood waiting for Harlow, her last customer of the day. With the total bill tallied, she handed her a credit card Robert didn’t have access to.
“Are you starting some sort of adult care center?”
“These are props for an acting scene I’m doing,” Harlow said. “Although I might not need them all.”
“We have a 30-day money-back return policy.” The woman waved the receipt in the air. “Keep your receipt. You’ll need it.”
“I don’t plan on returning the items. I’ll donate everything to a non-profit senior home care center after I’m done.” With help from the clerk, Harlow loaded the bags in the trunk of her car and drove straight home.
She pulled into her parking spot and promptly texted Selma to let her know she was there.
The garage door opened. Her housekeeper appeared.
“Is he still here?”
Selma nodded. “Upstairs. He told me to let him know when you got home.”
“Good. The stuff is in the back.” Harlow tiptoed to the trunk. She unloaded the medical supplies, removing the wheelchair last. “Remember, I’ve had a relapse.”
“You bought a box of Ace bandages?” Selma held up the box. “He’s going to freak out.”
“I hope so. He might even pass out.”
“No kidding. He couldn’t even put a Band-Aid on his cut the other day. He asked me to do it for him.” Selma hustled inside to drop the bags off. She returned to find Harlow sitting in the wheelchair. “Did you put the stuff out so Robert could see it?”
“I spread it out on the center island.”
“Perfect.” Harlow gripped the armrests. “I’m ready when you are.”
