Page 3 of Birdie by the Bay (Wynn Harbor Inn #2)

Caleb Jackson…hot, hunky and even more handsome than the day he’d broken her heart, sauntered over. “Hello, Harlow.”

“Hello.” She forced a smile.

“I meant to tell you the last time I ran into you, I’m sorry about your accident. I heard it was a bad one.”

“It was. I rolled my car and am lucky to be alive.”

“Is the mobility scooter a…” Caleb’s voice trailed off.

“Permanent? No. I have a physical therapist helping me get back on my feet.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He nodded toward the post office. “Is your dad around? I want to remind him about the water department flushing out the fire hydrants in front of his place on Monday.”

“I’m waiting for Aunt Birdie. She’s inside.”

His eyes grew round as saucers. “Your Aunt Birdie is here?”

“Yep.” Harlow chuckled.

“How is your dad taking it? I mean, the last time I heard the two were barely talking.”

“Oh, they’re talking,” Harlow said. “Aunt Birdie bought an RV and is camping out by the bay.”

“So I guess they’ve mended their fences.”

“In a roundabout way. The sparks are still flying.” Harlow explained her aunt was helping with her care.

“I haven’t seen Aunt Birdie in ages. If it’s okay with you, I’ll hang around and say hi.”

“I’m sure she would like that.” Their eyes met. Harlow’s heart hammered so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “By the way, congrats on being promoted to fire chief.”

“Thanks. Congrats to you on making it to megastardom.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I bet.” Caleb shifted his feet. “I’m not sure I would like to have every move I made photographed and broadcast to the entire world.”

“My career has some challenges,” Harlow admitted. “I guess the same could be said for every career, even yours.”

“Very true.”

Birdie hurried out of the post office. She came to an abrupt halt when she noticed Caleb. “Caleb Jackson.”

“Hey, Aunt Birdie.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re looking as stunning as ever.”

Birdie tugged on a strand of curly gray hair. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she joked. “How are your parents?”

“Great. My father is getting ready to retire and pass the plumbing business baton to my brother. I was telling Harlow that I wanted to remind David the city workers will be by to flush out the hydrants Monday morning. I’ll be there, as well.”

“Monday?” Birdie’s eyes lit. “Maybe you could hang around and have lunch with us after you’re done. Harlow could use a friend.”

A mortified Harlow quickly cut her aunt off. “I-I’m sure Caleb has a lot to do. Besides. I have friends. I have Eryn.”

“Who is busy with her job.”

Caleb, sensing Harlow’s discomfort, crossed his arms, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Thanks for the invite, Aunt Birdie. I would love to swing by and have lunch. We’re scheduled to be at the inn around eleven or eleven thirty.”

“Which will work out perfectly.” Birdie clapped her hands. “Let’s plan on twelve thirty or one.”

“I thought the water department was in charge of flushing the hydrants,” Harlow interrupted.

“They are. We’ve had a few past issues at your dad’s place. I want to make sure things go smoothly,” Caleb explained.

“This will work out perfectly. Come by David’s cottage around twelve thirty-ish.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “It’s nice seeing you again, Aunt Birdie.”

“Same here, Caleb.” Her aunt waited for him to walk away. “That Caleb Jackson is such a good-looking guy and so sweet. I wonder why you two never got together,” she mused.

“We did. Caleb and I dated until he broke up with me to join the Air Force.”

“Oh…I guess I forgot.” Birdie waved dismissively. “It was so long ago.”

“We both moved on with our lives.”

“You two would’ve made such cute babies,” her aunt sighed. “Instead of being saddled to wretched Robert, you could’ve had a catch like Caleb. I’m sure he’s married.”

“He was. His wife died of cancer.”

“What a shame, about his wife’s death, I mean.”

“It is. I can only imagine what Caleb has gone through. As far as our relationship ending, he chose his path a long time ago. We both did.” Harlow made the statement, but the pitter patter she felt when the man she’d loved with reckless abandon was standing nearby told a different story.

“You can host Caleb for lunch. I think I’ll make myself scarce. ”

Back home, her aunt insisted on accompanying her to the cottage. They found David watering the flower baskets hanging on the front porch.

“How did it go?”

“My mail is being forwarded until further notice.”

“How long is further notice?”

“Until I’m ready to leave.” Birdie folded her arms. “Are you already trying to get rid of me?”

“No, but I like to plan ahead.”

“Then plan on me being here until the snow flies…at least.”

Harlow covered her mouth to hide her grin. “Before I forget, Caleb Jackson asked me to remind you the city workers will be by around eleven on Monday morning to flush the hydrants.”

“And I invited him to lunch,” Birdie added.

David shot his daughter a puzzled look. “You want to have lunch with Caleb?”

“I don’t. Aunt Birdie does. I’ll be somewhere else.”

“He’ll be here around twelve thirty.”

Tink. Harlow snatched her cell phone from her lap. It was a message from Eryn, asking if she was interested in going downtown to listen to live music.

Harlow: Yes. Please.

Eryn: I’ll pop in around eight to get you.

Sounds good. She set her phone on her lap and followed her father and aunt inside. “Eryn and I are heading downtown later tonight.”

“I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. It’s card night. Lottie will be here with a dinner dish and cards around seven.”

“You have a date with Lottie?” Harlow eyed her father with interest.

David’s face turned bright red. “I-it’s not a date. It’s card night.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Birdie sing-songed.

“It also sounds like you need to mind your own business,” her brother snapped.

“Touchy-touchy,” she tsk-tsked.

“You’re trying to turn nothing into something.” Despite her father’s insistence it was a casual evening together, Harlow had sensed an inkling of interest between him and his quirky British gardening lady.

“We play poker, eat casserole and then, weather permitting, we wander around to check out the gardens.”

“I bet you do more than check out gardens,” Birdie muttered in a low voice.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was going to invite myself to dinner, but I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“We can eat sandwiches at your place,” Harlow said. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“Good idea. Why don’t you invite Eryn? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“I will.” Harlow texted a quick message, extending the invitation.

Eryn promptly replied: I’ll be there .

Harlow tapped out a confirmation. “What time Aunt Birdie?”

“Let’s plan on around six thirty. It will give us plenty of time to make ourselves scarce before date night starts.”

“It’s not a date night,” David grunted. “Both of you, all three of you, are free to join us.”

“No way. Female companionship is good for you. The last thing I want to do is interfere.” Birdie patted Harlow’s shoulder. “Do you want me to swing back by later, or can you make it on your own?”

“Eryn’s going to come by here first. We’ll head over together. I’m having groceries delivered today. What can I bring?”

“A salad sounds good.” Harlow and her aunt completed their dinner plans and Birdie left. The rear screen door slammed on her way out.

“That woman.” David threw his hands in the air. “She’s driving me nuts.”

“Aunt Birdie has a way of pushing your buttons.”

“Pushing my buttons with code red alerts, code black, you name it.”

“But she loves you. She loves us.”

“I know she does and I’m trying very hard to remember she could be enjoying her bucket list cruise around the world instead of slaving over a hot stove cooking breakfast in my kitchen.”

“Exactly.” Harlow excused herself and headed to her room. She took a nap and woke later, only to discover it was time to get ready for her physical therapy.

She threw on a pair of loose fitting shorts and a stretchy bright blue tank top before grabbing a pair of slip-on shoes on her way out.

Mort, her father’s pup who had stopped by to check on her, nudged the door open and stood waiting for Harlow to catch up.

They found her father in front of the kitchen stove, the top filled with pots and pans. “What are you making?”

“Guess.”

Harlow sniffed the air. “It smells delish, whatever it is.”

“I used the leftover bacon from breakfast to whip up one of your favorite dishes.”

“Chicken bacon ranch casserole,” Harlow and her father said in unison.

She licked her lips. “I haven’t had your casserole in years.”

“Then I’m glad I made it.”

“The dish isn’t for Lottie and your potluck, poker game night?” Harlow teased.

“Lottie likes it too. You’re just in time for a taste test.” He removed the casserole from the oven, grabbed two small bowls, and added a large scoop to each. “Not to brag, but this might be one of my best casseroles ever.”

I can’t wait to sample it.” Harlow watched her father carry the bowls to the table near the window.

The pup, who had been closely monitoring David’s movements, parked himself in the middle of the floor, hungrily eyeing the dish.

“I haven’t forgotten about you, Mort. I have a special treat.”

“Bacon?” Harlow asked.

“Mort can’t have bacon, but he can have this.” David sliced an apple and held out a piece. The pup promptly gobbled it up. He fed him a second slice and Harlow watched it disappear. “He’s the apple gobbler,” she joked.

“They’re one of his favorites.” David wagged his finger. “Enough for now. You can have another treat later.”

Mort ambled over to the table and plopped down a few feet away, waiting for Harlow and her father to have a seat.

“Mort is no dummy.”

“No, he’s not.” David grabbed a pitcher of tea and filled two glasses. “What time will your physical therapist be here?”

“Any time now. She had a cancellation and squeezed me in. The sooner, the better.” Harlow thanked her father for the food and dug into the casserole, comfort food at its best. Creamy pasta with shredded chicken and a blend of cheeses.

“This is as yummy as I remember. The restaurant guests used to rave over your chicken bacon ranch casserole.” Harlow polished off the creamy pasta, savoring her last morsel.

“I could never make enough. We were always running out.” Her father made a move to refill her dish.

“As much as I love it, I have to stop.” She patted her hips. “I need to stay in tiptop shape for the upcoming movie.”

“I’m still on the fence about whether you should’ve agreed to the extension.”

“Something tells me I’m going to need money if Robert…” Harlow toyed with her tea. “If things don’t work out.”

“You’re better off without him.”

“We’ve had a great life and a lot of happy memories, but I’m beginning to wonder if our marriage is more of a business arrangement as opposed to two people who are in love and committed to each other.

As long as the money keeps coming in and he’s able to maintain his lifestyle, Robert is happy as a clam. ”

“With his assistant,” her father added.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know for sure if he’s having an affair. She’s pretty, young, and with him almost 24/7. Maybe she was the one who pursued Robert.”

“He could have fired her if she started coming onto him.”

“True.” Much to Harlow’s relief, the doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. “Kennedy’s here.”

While David cleared the table, Harlow steered her scooter through the living room. After a quick check to confirm it was her, she swung the door open. “Hello, Kennedy. You’re right on time.”

“I must warn you…I’m a stickler for punctuality, especially when I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Which suits me fine.” Harlow backed up, making room for her physical therapist. “I’m ready to get cracking.”

Kennedy held up a pair of yoga mats. “It’s such a nice day. I thought maybe we could work outside.”

“I like your way of thinking.” Harlow called out to her father, letting him know she and Kennedy were going out into the yard before easing her scooter over the threshold. Down the ramp and along the sidewalk they went.

“I noticed a gorgeous little garden on my way to the house,” Kennedy said. “I figured if you were in pain, at least you would have a pretty view.”

“If pain means gain, I’m all for it. I have less than a month to get back on my feet.” Harlow filled her in about her upcoming work schedule. “The studio has given me an extension, but there is a deadline.”

“We can get you back on your feet,” Kennedy said. “I can’t believe the rumors swirling around on the internet about you.”

Harlow abruptly stopped. She had little doubt that the rumor mill was working overtime, clamoring for information and printing lies, just to have a story. “I’ve been avoiding the news.”

“Which might be best, at least for now.”

“Out of curiosity, what are they saying?”

Kennedy grimaced. “I’ll be perfectly honest, Harlow. I’m not sure you want to know.”