“Not a chance.” He pushed on the bridge of his glasses. “I’m coming back here. Wait and see.”
“All roads lead to Michigan. No matter how far you travel or what dreams you pursue, I’ve found this to be so very true.” Harlow mentioned him visiting the school to familiarize himself with the campus and dorms. “A lot of decisions will need to be made.”
“This is the best day of my life,” he said. “Like an angel swooped down and made my dreams come true.”
Harlow tilted her head. “I don’t think I’m an angel. Maybe just a decent human being who has been blessed and is able to help a special friend.” She grabbed her sling bag and jacket and followed Arlen, his feet barely touching the ground as he walked to the door. “You won’t let me down, will you?”
“Not in a million years, Harlow. I’m going to make you proud.”
Chapter 19
On her way home from her breakfast date with Arlen, Harlow swung by Peyton’s fudge shop. She found her friend standing at the counter, up to her elbows in fudge.
“Good morning, Harlow.”
“Hey, Peyton.” She sniffed the air, a tantalizing combination of creamy cocoa and vanilla, mingled with peanut butter. “It smells simply divine in here.”
“Thanks. I’m mixing my special batch of peanut butter fudge. Abby’s Island Time Catering is catering an event at the tourist center and they specifically requested Mackinac Island peanut butter fudge.” Using a long handled paddle, her friend spread the batter across the marble slab.
“I’ve often wondered how hard it is to make fudge.”
“It’s easy-breezy once you get the hang of it.” Peyton held the paddle up. “Would you like to give it a try?”
“Sure.” Harlow placed her coat and bag on a nearby chair. “Teach me your tricks, fudge master,” she joked.
“The fudge is still warm, so you’ll need to keep paddling until it sets up.” While she talked, Peyton worked her way around the slab, running the flat end of the paddle under the fudge and flipping it over. Around and around she went, moving at a steady pace, expertly mixing and flipping.
As soon as she worked on one side, the sugary goodness began spreading toward the opposite edge. Before it could get too close, Peyton darted to the other side and paddled it back toward the center. “As you can see, stopping would be a disaster.”
“You would have fudge all over the floor.” Harlow rolled up her sleeves.
“When I come around to your side, I’ll pass the paddle to you. The key is to keep flipping and moving it toward the center.”
“I think I can handle it.”
Her friend stepped around the side and passed the paddle to Harlow. Moving quickly, she paddled and flipped the fudge. Paddle. Flip. Paddle. Flip. Back and forth. “This is good exercise.”
“It definitely gives the arm muscles a workout,” Peyton said. “Are you getting dizzy yet?”
“Actually, I’m finding it quite therapeutic.” Harlow flipped and paddled. “How much fudge is on the slab?”
“About twenty pounds.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Imagine how many calories are in a batch.”
An employee appeared, and Peyton turned over the paddle project for her to finish up. “If you have a minute, I need some honest feedback.”
Harlow trailed behind her friend, through the shop and to a prep table near the back.
“I have a couple of new fudge flavors I’ve been working on. Noelle is on her way over to give her opinion.”
The tinkle of the front bell chimed. “That’s probably her.”
Noelle, who owned a nearby flower shop, appeared. “Hey, Peyton. Hi, Harlow. You’re here for the fudge tasting too?”
“I am now. As luck would have it, I showed up at just the right time.” Harlow rubbed her palms together. “What are we sampling?”
