Chapter 20
The rest of Harlow’s morning flew by. She spent it memorizing another scene for the upcoming movie. Immersing herself in her character meant she slipped into another world, far from her idyllic island and stepping onto Philly’s gritty streets.
Despite her annoyance at having to work alongside one of the most self-centered male actors in the biz, she focused on her blessings. A job she loved. A movie she was excited to be a part of, including a set team she clicked with.
After the third read-through, Harlow set it aside and turned the mute off her phone, a habit she’d gotten into to avoid being distracted.
She noticed Robert had sent a text asking for an update. Harlow started to reply and then decided to call him instead, planning to leave a voicemail.
Much to her surprise, he answered right away. “Hello, Harlow.”
“Hello, Robert. I started to reply but figured I would call instead. I’ve been rehearsing and memorizing every day.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. So, you’re still on the island.”
“I am.”
“I see you’ve hooked up with a new / old friend.”
“I take it you’re talking about the rag magazine photoshopped photo of me standing in front of Lighthouse Lane looking like I just crawled out of bed.”
“What is Lighthouse Lane?”
“A property I purchased and am in the process of renovating.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Just crawl out of bed.”
“Do you care?” she asked.
“If it reflects poorly on your image, then the answer is yes.”
“The property is uninhabitable. Like I said, the photo is photoshopped and I’m not dating.”
“Caleb Jackson,” Robert said. “Why does his name sound familiar?”
“Because we were high school sweethearts. I may have mentioned him in passing.”
“He works for the fire department.”
“He’s the fire chief.”
Robert changed the subject. “It looks like you’ll need to install some security stuff, including privacy walls, if you plan to live on the island.”
“I will. Thank you for your concern.”
“There’s no need to be snarky,” he snapped. “Have you run into Cheyenne again?”
“More like, did she corner me again and taunt me by telling me she’s going to be a bigger star than me? If this is your question, the answer is no.”
“You’re in a lousy mood.”
“Actually, I was in a pretty good mood until you called.”
“We seem to bring out the best in each other, don’t we?”
“I guess so. Look, I’m sorry. You know how much I hate the lying tabloids.”
“I do, and for good reason.”
Harlow could tell Robert was on the move, pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth, a sure sign he had something on his mind. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“I…uh, wanted to give you a heads-up I’ll be visiting Mackinac Island for a couple of days.”
“To see Cheyenne?”
“Yeah.”
“For business or pleasure?” she asked.
“I’ll take a phrase from your playbook. Do you care?”
“No. Merely curious.”
“Both. We are dating but I also want to talk business with her.”
Harlow picked at the tip of her fingernail, contemplating whether she should mention Cheyenne’s acting debut. Throwing caution to the wind, she blurted out, “Did her commercial make the cut?”
“It did.”
“Congrats. We both know it’s the first stepping-stone to bigger and better offers.”
“Absolutely. She’s a little sensitive about it, this being her first time and all. I figured I would come to town for the airing.”
“It’s hitting the little screen soon and you’ll be here for moral support?”
“Pretty much.”
“Good luck,” Harlow said. “If anyone can help launch her career, it will be you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was. You’re one of the best in the biz,” she quipped.
“Good enough to continue representing you?”
“No.”
“You aren’t going to give me a chance to make my pitch? Steel City Wishes is a sweet gig. I worked hard to get you the deal.”
“It is, and I appreciate all your efforts. I’m thrilled with every aspect of it except one. My co-star, Flynn.”
“There’s no perfect team. Never has been. Never will be. Go with the flow and it will be over before you know it,” he said. “I hope you reconsider my offer to manage your career. We work well together.”
“We do, or at least we did,” Harlow conceded. “Having said that, I think it’s in our mutual best interest to part ways.”
Robert muttered something unintelligible under his breath and quickly ended the call before Harlow had a chance to ask him exactly when he planned to arrive.
She noticed her fingers were white from gripping the phone so tightly. Curious to find out more about Abuttrezil, she Googled the product and company, clicking on a YouTube link to check out previous ads.
Nondescript, unmemorable, and yawn-worthy summarized them. If nothing else, Cheyenne’s acting debut would liven things up—or bomb big time. Based on Robert’s plans to fly to Michigan to offer his moral support, she suspected it might be the latter.
Harlow sent a quick text to Janice, updating her on the commercial and letting her know Robert had told her it was a “go,” which meant it gave her the green light to show it to her friends.
She sensed someone behind her and turned to find her father standing in the doorway. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Harlow. How did your breakfast date with Arlen go?”
“Great.” She gave him a thumbs up. “The kid is on cloud nine.”
“I bet. I heard from your aunt again.”
“How’s her compassion mission going?”
“A little rough. Electricity is hit or miss. Birdie said a lot of the store shelves are bare.”
“Pretty much what she expected she would find. At least she’s checking in and we know she’s safe.” Harlow told her father about her conversation with Robert. “He must’ve pulled a few strings to get that gem pushed through.”
“Or paid someone off,” he joked.
“It’s a thought and not out of the realm of possibility.”
“I put some cameras up at your new place. You got a minute? I’ll load the app on your phone.”
“Sure.” Harlow handed it to him, quietly watching him install the app. He tapped the screen and handed it back. “Done.”
“You’re fast.”
“I’ve installed a few around here.” David showed her how to use it. Sure enough the front, back and sides of her soon-to-be home popped up in four squares, filling the small screen. “If those pesky press people are hanging around, you’ll be able to catch them, no problem.”
“Unless they’re hiding in my bushes. I love all the landscape but it does give persistent paparazzi lots of places to hide.”
“Definitely.” David left, claiming he had a project to finish in the garage, leaving Harlow feeling restless.
Thinking some fresh air would do her good, she took her bike into town, riding up and down the side streets with no clear destination in mind. Passing by Fort Mackinac, she noticed people trekking up the steep incline, making their way to the ticket booth.
Harlow pulled over to the side and dug through her wallet to see if she had any cash or a credit card. After confirming she had both, she started walking her bike when she heard someone call her name.
She turned to find Lottie hurrying toward her.
“I thought that was you.”
“Hey, Lottie. I decided to take my bike for a spin and ended up here.” She nodded toward the fort. “I haven’t been inside in years and figured I could kill a couple of hours poking around.”
“I have some free time. Mind if I tag along?”
“Not at all.”
“I’m not sure if I told you, but the historical society made me an honorary member, which means I can get us in for free.”
“Because you’ve donated the buttons and other things you found? That’s cool.” Harlow gripped the handlebars, pushing the bike up the incline, even steeper than she remembered. “I bet you’ve dug up plenty of odds and ends. What do you do with them?”
“The historical items are donated. Most of the stuff gets tossed, although I have kept a few things. Wynn Harbor Inn has been a treasure trove.”
“Of items guests lost.”
“Rings, earrings, money,” Lottie said. “Your father refuses to take them. He claims its finders keepers.”
“We had a lost and found at the hotel.” Harlow told her most items were never claimed. “Once a year, Dad and Mom would donate the good stuff to a local charity.”
The women reached the entrance booth where the attendant greeted Lottie by name.
“Harlow has a hankering to look around.”
The woman, in her seventies if Harlow had to guess, leaned forward, staring at her through thick, wire-rimmed glasses. “Harlow Wynn.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I heard you were back living on the island. You look different than you do in the magazines and movies.”
“Different in a good way or a bad way?” Harlow joked.
“Mostly good.” The woman looked her up and down. “You’re even taller than I thought you would be and your hair is lighter. Heard your husband dumped you and is dating that nasty woman Cheyenne Clifton now.”
“Robert and I agreed to a mutual split. He is dating Cheyenne. I just spoke to him and he’ll be visiting again soon.”
The woman waved dismissively. “I doubt they’ll visit the fort. Cheyenne isn’t much of a history buff. She’s more of a phony baloney.”
Lottie choked back a laugh. “You have her number, Tessie.”
“Darn tootin.’ Never could figure out what handsome Caleb Jackson saw in her.” Tessie cast Harlow a sly side glance. “Rumor around town is that you two have been spending some time together.”
“Caleb and I are friends. He’s helping Dad and me figure out what caused the Wynn Harbor Inn fire that killed my mom.”
She tsk-tsked. “I heard about the fire. I’m sorry about your mother.”
“Thank you.”
Tessie handed them two tickets. “You can park your bike over there. I’ll make sure no one steals it.”
Harlow thanked her and parked it in the general vicinity of where Tessie had instructed.
Climbing the rest of the way to the top, she and Lottie handed their tickets to the attendant and stepped through the gate.
“It looks exactly like I remember.”
“And will probably stay the same for the next hundred years. Let’s start over here.”
Wandering through the buildings…the bathhouse, the office, and the quartermaster’s storehouse offered glimpses of what the soldiers’ lives had been like. It was a stark reminder that even on a rough day, Harlow’s life couldn’t come close to what the soldiers had suffered and lived through.
“I see the block house.” She picked up the pace, hurrying to what had been her favorite part, the towers the soldiers used to protect the fort during attacks. Climbing to the second story platform, the views of the harbor were the best on the island, not counting the views from Arch Rock.
Their last stop was the soldiers’ barracks, which had been built in the mid-1800s.
“My contributions are in here.” Lottie led Harlow to a display case and pointed out the pieces she’d donated. Next to each one were small slips of paper, acknowledging the woman’s generous donation.
“Speaking of donation.” She fumbled around inside her purse and pulled out a coupon. “I have a complimentary tea for two at the tearoom. My tummy is grumbling. Are you in a hurry?”
“Not at all.”
Exiting the barracks, they walked catty-corner to the officers’ quarters, a two-story building overlooking the walkway and park. The few diners seated inside barely gave them a passing glance.
Lottie ordered a fruit and cheese platter along with tea for two. An empty table with a window view offered the perfect quiet spot to enjoy their snack.
“Thanks for letting me tag along.” Lottie slid the food to the center of the table.
“I think I got the better end of the deal. Free admission and free food,” Harlow said. “I meant to tell you the gardens look fantastic.”
“Thanks.” While they munched, Lottie chatted about her future gardening plans.
“Do you change it up or stick to the same flowers each year?” Harlow plucked a grape from the plate and popped it into her mouth.
“It depends on what flowers are on sale. I like color so I try to mix and match.”
Harlow absentmindedly ran her finger along the rim of her teacup. “I’ve been wondering, have you ever dug up anything odd or unusual in the gardens?”
“Odd or unusual,” Lottie echoed. “Besides the items I’ve donated to the fort?”
She mentioned the pin found in the inn’s fireplace. “Anything that could be a potential clue.”
The woman thought about it. “No, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you. I like getting my hands dirty so if you need help.”
“You’re welcome to assist anytime you want.” Lottie started to say something and abruptly stopped.
“What were you going to say?”
“There is an area that’s strictly off limits I’m not allowed to touch.”
“Mom’s gravesite.”
“Your dad tends to it but must be busy because it hasn’t been spruced up yet.”
A tinge of guilt filled Harlow. She thought about how he’d dropped everything and gone over to Lighthouse Lane to install cameras.
She knew the place where her mom was buried held special meaning for her father. It was Ginger’s favorite spot and had, for many years, been a family joke. Ginger would putter and obsess over the plot of land.
Occasionally, Harlow was allowed to help. One day, not long before her death, Ginger finally told her daughter why the spot held special meaning. It was where David had proposed to her back when Harlow’s grandparents were running Wynn Harbor Inn.
And now, it was Ginger’s final resting place. “I’ll surprise him and take care of it.”
“Don’t tell your father I said anything.”
“I won’t.”
The afternoon sun faded and the fort was getting ready to close for the day.
On their way down, Harlow grabbed her bike and walked it to the bottom. “I had fun bumming around with you.”
“Me too. Thanks for letting me.”
The women parted ways, and during the ride back to Wynn Harbor Inn, Harlow thought about Lottie mentioning Ginger’s final resting place. Passing through the gate, she took the road to her mother’s gravesite.
Sure enough, the flower beds hadn’t been touched. Harlow ran a light hand over her mother’s headstone. “Hey, Mom. I’ll be back tomorrow to spruce the place up. Dad’s been…uh…busy, but don’t worry. I’ll have some of your favorite flowers and a spring makeover coming soon.”
She returned to her bike and circled around toward home, thinking again about her impromptu outing with Lottie. An offhand comment had caught her ear. For the life of her, Harlow couldn’t remember what it was other than it was about Ginger…a woman Lottie had never met.