Chapter 8
Harlow cautiously steered the scooter down the makeshift ramp and onto the sidewalk.
Mort kept pace, happily trotting alongside Harlow and her father.
They veered right, meandering past the trio of rental cottages and the outdoor pool, now covered by a thick black tarp.
Clusters of leaves, some of them looking as if they’d been there for a very long time, sat in small piles. “You haven’t opened the pool.”
“It’s been covered and closed for several years now.”
Harlow didn’t ask, but something told her she knew exactly how long the pool had been covered. Right after the fire and when she left. She quickly changed the subject, talking about the gardens and how there were hints of color in the leaves.
Fall wasn’t too far off. Magnificent Michigan, decked out in all its glory. Tourists arrived in droves to view the fall colors, marking the end of the busy summer season.
Although Wynn Harbor Inn had stayed open year-round, the resort didn’t get nearly as many visitors during the off-season. Just a few snowmobilers or cross-country skiers who craved the peace and solitude of the quiet winter months.
Staying on the paved path, they crossed the street and reached the harbor. As they drew closer, Harlow noticed several of the wooden posts were off kilter and tilted at an angle. The small marina was empty except for Winnie, her father’s sailboat.
Harlow steered her scooter onto the dock for a closer look, noting the sailboat was in pristine condition. “Winnie is looking good. ”
“I polished her a couple of weeks ago. Are you interested in taking a cruise around the island?”
Harlow perked up. “I would love to cruise around in Winnie. Can you still see Arch Rock from the water? I bet the trees have grown over it by now.”
“Not at all. You can still see it.” Wynn called his pup, who had wandered to the end of the pier. “Mort loves to ride in the boat, don’t you, buddy? We’ll take her out for a spin soon.”
Mort rubbed up against David, but kept going until he reached Harlow. He nudged her hand, eager for attention.
“Mort is already becoming attached to you. You’ll have to watch him at night. He likes to sleep on the rug in front of the bed.”
“Duly noted.” Harlow scratched his head. “I’ll make sure I don’t accidentally trip over him.”
Father and daughter backtracked and returned to the main road. Up ahead was the wedding gazebo, sporting two semicircular trellises and what appeared to be new brick pavers. Beyond the trellis was a thick hedge. On the other side was a small hill leading down to the rocky shoreline.
“Do you still have weddings here?”
“No. Haven’t had a wedding or a guest in a long time.”
“How do you…pay for all of this?” Harlow made a sweeping motion. “Taxes, insurance, upkeep, expenses.”
“I had some cash put away. Most of the money is gone now. I also have a handful of investments, enough for me to get by, but not much more.” Wynn, appearing uncomfortable about discussing his finances, pointedly changed the subject and began talking about the weather.
Harlow absentmindedly replied, all the while her mind whirled. Her father could have walked away with a pretty penny. Nothing was stopping him from selling to an investor or company and buying a smaller place, something more manageable near the water. He could go fishing whenever he wanted. Relax. Enjoy the years he had left, yet he clung to this place.
From the other side of the shrubbery, Harlow heard someone humming.
Pssst. A blast of icy cold water splashed her shoulder and doused the scooter’s basket.
Mort barked loudly and skittered back.
Meanwhile, David heaved a heavy sigh, appearing slightly perturbed. “Lottie, watch the hose,” he warned.
A woman popped up from behind the bushes, garden hose in hand. “Oh dear. Did I spray you? I am so sorry.”
She tiptoed around the bush and stepped into full view. A floppy hat sat atop Lottie’s shoulder-length brown hair. Beneath her paint-splattered smock was a neon green T-shirt. The smock covered what Harlow suspected were pencil-thin legs. Tall cowgirl boots covered the lower half. The only thing visible was her knobby knees.
Her eyes grew round as saucers. “You have company.”
“Lottie Fletcher, this is my daughter, Harlow.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” she replied in an utterly charming British accent. “I knew David left the island to fly to California after finding out you had been in some sort of accident.”
“I was in a car accident. Dad convinced me to come here until I’m back on my feet…literally.”
Lottie’s eyes clouded with concern. “I can’t imagine not being able to get around.”
“So far, it’s tolerable and temporary.” Harlow shifted. “He mentioned you’ve been helping him with the gardens. They’re beautiful.”
“Not to toot my own horn, but I have a bit of a green thumb. So does your father.” Lottie grabbed the tip of a rose and caressed the petals. “Isn’t that right Pearl?” She stepped over to a speckled orange lily. “Look at Lillith, showing off her late summer blooms,” she sing-songed.
“Lottie talks to all the plants and flowers,” David explained.
“Every living thing needs a little encouragement.”
“It’s even prettier than I remember.” Harlow’s leg tingled, warning her it was going numb. She winced and wiggled, attempting to relieve the pressure.
Lottie clomped over. “Oh dear. Look at me rambling on with my nonsense. Are you uncomfortable? I have a pillow at home that would be a perfect fit for the seat to cush your tush.” Lottie laughed, a merry tinkle of laughter. “Get it? Cush your tush.”
Harlow grinned. She liked Lottie…liked her a lot. She shot her father a sly side glance. He didn’t seem ir ritated. In fact, he struck her as being slightly amused…along with something else.
“That’s a sporty scooter,” Lottie complimented. “I bet it cost a pretty penny.”
“Dad rented it for me.” A wave of shame washed over Harlow. She’d all but abandoned her father and here he was, spending his time and money helping her get back on her feet without asking for anything in return…unlike so many other people in her life.
Everyone wanted something. A favor. An introduction to her connections. Money. Harlow was starting to realize her privileged career had been sucking the very life out of her.
Perhaps this was God’s way of forcing a reset. Forcing her to step back and take stock of where she was going and who she allowed into her inner circle .
Lottie removed her gloves and ran a light hand over the scooter’s handle. “I bet this baby can get up and go.”
“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out how to operate it.”
“I have a friend who has one. Would you like me to show you a few of the nifty features?”
“That would be great.”
Lottie explained some of the controls and where the horn was located. “Oh, fun. You have the duck horn.” She pressed a button.
Honk. Honk.
Harlow laughed out loud. “It sounds like an angry duck.”
Lottie’s expression grew mischievous. “I bet you could clear a walkway if you wanted to.”
“Or give someone a heart attack if I came up on them too fast. ”
She became distracted and began fiddling with the back of Harlow’s seat. “There’s extra storage here where you can hide a little sippy sip.”
“Sippy sip?”
“Refreshing beverage.” The woman’s eyes lit. “You have the turbo version.”
“Turbo version?”
“Check this out.” Lottie pressed the handle’s red button. The scooter shot forward. Harlow’s head snapped back. She collided with a boulder and nearly flew out of her seat. “Whoa.”
Lottie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Did I give you whiplash?”
“You’re going to have my daughter in a body cast,” David joked.
“I am so sorry. I won’t touch anything else. Remember, the red button acts like jet fuel. If you need to get away from someone rather quickly, hold the button down and let ‘er rip. ”
“Thanks for the heads up.” Harlow pointed to another button, this one with a green lightning bolt etched on it. “Do you have any idea what this one does?”
“Don’t…”
It was too late. Harlow tapped the green button. The scooter spun around in a tight circle.
Lottie let out a yelp. The wayward scooter clipped the corner of the meticulously manicured hedge. Using the boulder as a launchpad, she became airborne, attempting to clear the landscaping. Instead, she landed smack-dab in the center. “Oof.”
David lunged forward and pulled her upright.
Harlow watched in horror as her father plucked a thorny branch from her tangled hair. “I’m sorry. I had no idea the button spun the scooter around in a circle.”
“On a dime, I might add.” Lottie lifted her elbow to inspect a small splotch of blood .
“You’re hurt.” Harlow apologized again.
“It’s my fault. I should have warned you.”
“You tried.” She lifted both hands. “No more button pressing around innocent bystanders.”
While they talked, Mort sneaked behind Harlow’s scooter and disappeared. The flowers started to sway.
Lottie placed her hands on her hips. “Mort Wynn,” she scolded. “We’ve had numerous discussions about how to enter the flower gardens. It’s tiptoe through the tulips. Not tromp over the delicate petals.”
Mort’s tail bounced along the shrub line. The pup reappeared. With ears back and head down, he slunk toward Harlow and her father.
“Good boy.” Lottie praised him. “Mort’s not a bad pup. Just a little rambunctious. ”
“I bet he loves living here.” Harlow’s cell phone chimed. It was Eryn, letting her know she was at the cottage. “Eryn is here.”
“Sweet little Eryn Marquette. Your father told me you two have been best friends since grade school.”
“For as long as I can remember.”
Lottie tugged on her gardening gloves. “I must get back to work. I need to whip this place into shape, making sure it’s in tip-top condition in case your father’s p…”
David cut her off. “In case I want to start inviting guests over.”
Lottie’s brows furrowed. “I thought…”
He shook his head, giving the woman a pointed stare. “We’ll chat later.”
“Chat later about what?” Harlow asked.
“It’s nothing to be concerned about. Just a minor project I’ve been working on. ”
“Minor project?” Lottie mumbled under her breath.
“It’s none of your concern,” he snapped.
“Fine. Fine.” The woman blew air through thinned lips. “I know when to keep quiet.”
“Then do it.” Wynn’s expression softened. “I have your check at the house. Stop by when you get a chance.”
“Thank you, David.” Lottie brightened. “It was my sincere pleasure to meet you, Harlow. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
“I’m sure you will.” Harlow followed her dad and Mort away from the gardens. What project was her father talking about? Obviously, it involved his property. He had cut Lottie off, meaning he didn’t want his daughter to know about it.
Getting the place in tip-top condition. Harlow had no idea what the woman was talking about, but she intended to find out.