Chapter Thirty-Three
They were later getting out the door than Harper wanted to be, and they still had to drop Archie off at Lucas’s. She was grateful to him for dog-sitting and knew Archie would not only be in good hands, but he’d have a great time with Scout.
Besides her dog having a good day and getting some exercise, he’d probably come home worn out. Win-win.
Frankie was driving, which Harper appreciated. Frankie knew the area better, but Harper had already said she’d drive home. Willa was in the back, on her phone.
Harper tipped her head to the side. “Still getting likes on the boat pictures?”
“Heck, yes,” Willa said. “Those things are social media gold. A couple of my friends have texted me asking me to get them his autograph.”
“You can ask him. He might,” Harper said. She looked over at her sister. “How are you doing?”
Frankie’s eyes stayed on the road. Traffic was medium-heavy. “I’m all right. Nervous. But that’s to be expected, I suppose.”
Harper sipped her travel cup of coffee. “Same here. I have high expectations, which is probably dumb, but it is what it is.”
Willa leaned forward. “Thanks for letting me come, both of you. I have high expectations, too.”
“Don’t get them too high,” Frankie said. She glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “This could be a bust.”
“It could also be great,” Harper said. But she understood. Frankie wasn’t over her disappointment with Shar.
The drive went by quickly. They sang along to the radio, talked about how much work Willa had left to do before she could graduate, and Frankie told them about the new things she’d added to her shop.
“Hey,” Willa said. “You should do a design for Lucas of Scout. Something that could go on a T-shirt. You know his followersloveScout. They’d probably eat that up.”
“As a matter of fact,” Frankie said. “I was already thinking about doing a portrait of her for him. As a thank-you for the business he’s brought me. But a T-shirt design is a great idea. Thanks, Willa. What do you think it should look like?”
Willa was quiet a moment. “How about just Scout’s face with the words ‘Prime Doggo’?”
Harper laughed. “I like that.”
“Yeah?” Frankie looked over at her. “I could do that.”
Harper nodded. “Lucas would love it.”
“His fans would love it,” Willa added.
“All right, I get it.” Frankie laughed. “I’ll add it to my list of things to do.”
“How are the book illustrations coming along?”
“Not as quickly as they should, but I did make progress with them. I need two or three solid days of work and I can knock them out. But I have these new requests to deal with and I don’t want to turn down work.”
Harper didn’t want her to do that, either. She knew what the extra income could do for Frankie. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, but thank you for asking.”
The navigation announced that they should take the next exit. Frankie put on her blinker and moved into the right-hand lane.
Harper checked her phone. They were doing great on time. They might even be there a few minutes early. Frankie must have her foot down. Didn’t seem like they were going that fast, as they were keeping up with the cars around them, but speeding seemed to be the norm these days.
They were meeting at a local restaurant. Buck had chosen it. Glenda would be there, too. Neither Harper nor Frankie saw any reason for her not to come, especially with them bringing Willa.
Frankie took the exit and, before long, they were pulling into the parking lot of the Rusty Scupper. A large anchor leaned against one exterior wall. A weathered ship’s wheel hung from another. By the door stood a nearly life-sized wooden fisherman. He was painted in bright blue and yellow, a jaunty pipe stuck in the corner of his mouth. He looked like he’d just stepped off a box of fish sticks.
Frankie parked and turned the car off. She sat for a second, just looking at the restaurant. “You think he’s in there already?”
