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.
Chapter 21
Harlow spent the evening mulling over plans to work on her mother’s neglected gravesite, disappointed in herself for allowing her father to push his own projects aside so he could help with hers.
Determined to rectify the situation, as soon as she woke up the next morning she threw on a “Pure Michigan” T-shirt and a ratty pair of old jeans. With a quick swing by the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, she discovered her father had already left the house.
She lingered long enough to sip a cup and eat her daily Greek yogurt with granola sprinkled on top before tracking down David’s camo-colored cart.
Harlow filled it with gardening tools and made a beeline for her mother’s grave.
Lowering onto her knees, she raked the flower bed, removing the moldy mulch and plucking the flowers that had withered and died during the long, cold winter. While she worked, she thought about her father and Lottie.
She sensed a spark between them, but neither had made a move to level up their relationship. Maybe it was an age thing. Both were getting older and set in their ways.
Lottie’s cozy, quaint cottage was close by. David had plenty around the inn to keep him busy. Now that Harlow was back, he was busier than ever, which made her feel even guiltier. She was the reason he didn’t have time to care for his wife’s grave.
She finished cleaning out the flower bed and noticed what appeared to be an exposed section of underground sprinkling, where the soil had washed away.
Thinking it was an easy fix, Harlow went in search of fresh dirt she could use to cover the pipe. A few feet beyond Ginger’s garden beds were a cluster of pine trees surrounded by a mound of dirt.
Using her small shovel, Harlow dug through the compost until she reached soil. She filled a trio of plastic planters and carried them back to the exposed pipe. After covering the pipe, she tamped it down with her boot.
A long shadow fell across Harlow. She pivoted, noticing her father standing behind her, a confused look on his face. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve been helping me a lot lately. I figured I would return the favor.”
“You don’t need to do this. Working on Ginger’s resting spot was next on my list.”
“I don’t mind. Gardening is therapeutic for me.”
“There are plenty of places to help Lottie if you want to get your hands dirty,” he insisted.
Harlow shaded her eyes and studied her father’s face. It dawned on her what he was saying in a roundabout way. “You don’t want me here.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you helping. I made a promise to your mother when I laid her in the ground that I would always care for her final resting spot. I intend to keep my promise.”
“Do you think she would mind if I helped?” Harlow asked in a soft voice.
“No.” David stepped closer, taking note of his cart parked nearby. “You’re clearing the old stuff?”
“It’s too early to plant the flowers.” She told him about the exposed pipe and how she’d covered it. “I’m almost done.”
David told her he planned to remove the rocks around the bushes and add tulips, one of Ginger’s favorite flowers.
“Mom sure loved her tulips.”
Mort, who had been tromping through the fresh dirt, returned to where they stood talking.
“Mort and I just got done working on Winnie’s sails.” David turned to go and hesitated. “How much more do you plan to do?”
