“My guess is you will throw back hockey jokes just as fast.”
“Maybe.” She’s playing coy.
“Now come on, aren’t we supposed to walk?” I mumble as I chew on my fruit.
I tread past her to take us to the trail marked with a green dot on the signpost. It will be way faster than the yellow dot that the retreat suggested.
“Do you want to be in town in twenty minutes or do you really want to do this whole two-hour indicated trail?” I ask, as I’m up for anything. “I kind of love hiking. Walking is the best exercise.”
“Despite what you may think, I love hiking too.”
I give her eyes that indicatereally?
Harlow grins to herself. “Really, I do… Okay, I don’t. I’m more of a Zumba kind of girl. Besides, perusing Main Street counts as inspiration, right?”
“I think so. Plus, we’ll need to walk there and back, so that amounts to something.”
We both have a wistfulness on our face, all traces of earlier hostility fading away. “Do you think we’ll get in trouble with Gloria?” she wonders.
My lips quirk out. “You’re the girl who literally loves to write bad girl on a daily basis, so something tells me you don’t mind.”
She playfully swats me. “Har, har. And… it’s good girl.”
I crack out a laugh because this woman has a good sense of humor.
“Okay, to milkshake, disgusting smoothies, and perusing,” I announce and begin to walk the track, with the sticks and leaves crunching under our feet.
Throwing my apple core to the side without a thought, I’m met quickly with a sharp scolding sound hitting my ears.
“Hey! Pick that up.”
My head half circles to face Harlow who doesn’t appear to be joking. “What did the apple do to you?”
“Pick up the apple.” Her voice is stern and adamant.
“It’s an apple core.” I lift my shoulders up.
Harlow gawks at me, while her hands land on her hips. “And? Are you trying to kill a deer?”
My face scrunches into confusion. “Kill a deer?”
“Yeah. Mr. Deer could show up and eat the apple then choke.” She is so serious with conviction that I can’t help but chortle a sound, which leaves her unimpressed.
I step closer to her, ready to debate this. “Choke on an apple?” I repeat her question, very confident of what’s about to go down.
“Yes. Wouldn’t you hate to be responsible for having Mr. Deer die, and then his entire deer family is without the patriarch?” She stands tall, ready to dispute me. “If it’s a baby deer, then I’m sure that you’re going to hell, too.”
My lips press together before raising the corners of my mouth. “That’s, uh… some travesty. Yeah, I should definitely think of my life mistakes.” I feign concern as I bring my fingers to my chin to contemplate.
“Fine, don’t take me seriously. Still, pick up the apple,” she demands again.
“Harlow, why don’t you pull up your phone and literally type in ‘What do deer eat?’ I’m sure you will find that science is on my side here, and besides, you can’t live in Lake Spark without having studied the billions of deer crossing signs in the area and wonder why local people have not yet taken out the overpopulation of deer in the area with apples. Reason one is apparently they love their apples, so unless we want to go fairytale magical fruit on those creatures, then sorry, but apples are a no-go for killing the deer.”
“Fairytales? As in the poisonous apple? That’s a bit cruel.”
I cross my arms. “Search the internet,” I one-tone so we can wrap this up.
Her brows knit together before she hesitantly slides out her cell from her sweater pocket then types quickly. Her lips roll in, and she cranes her neck as she delays a response. “Okay… so it appears that deer may… eat apples.” Her face falls as she realizes her error.
