Lark Lake Lodge

Chapter Three

Harlan's Hospitality

The woodsy path opened to a clearing as we approached Harlan’s place. Roger and Ralph called out to their pack and the response sounded like a fox hunt on one of those British period dramas on public television. About fifteen floppy dogs of all sizes awkwardly galloped toward us.

The kennel was a long, narrow brick building with a series of chain-link pens attached. The gates were all open and the dogs spilled into a large, fenced yard where they were free to play and run around. The collective baying was deafening, but didn’t detract from the complete cuteness overload. Each and every dog had a clumsy exhaustion about them. And forget about the puppies. Good Lord, I’d never seen anything so precious. Their long ears dragged in the grass and their stubby little legs barely held their little round bellies off the ground.

I begged for a chance to greet the pack, so Harlan opened the gate and we entered the yard along with Roger and Ralph. Our two companions greeted their siblings, cousins, and progeny like decorated warriors returning from battle. Several of the dogs approached. I squatted down to let them sniff me and once they were comfortable, I was bowled over with a silky-eared pack of lovey, long dogs. My heart was so full, it nearly burst out of my chest. I played and petted, received endless kisses and snuggles. Harlan looked on with a bright smile.

I could get used to that smile.

There was no point in denying that I was into him. It was the first time I’d been attracted to anyone since Rob. I’d been too hurt and too busy trying to pick up the pieces of my life to have any interest in men. But this strong and sexy nature boy had my full attention. It wasn’t just his unreal good looks. He was capable and mature. It made me wonder how old he was. I guessed probably forty. Not such a leap from my thirty-five. It would be cool to hang out with a guy older than me. Rob was three years younger chronologically, and about twenty emotionally.

“Eggs or pancakes?” he asked.

I’d been so caught up in daydreaming about the man, I hadn’t realized I was staring at him.

“Um, uh, pancakes.”

Never had I experienced how sexy it was to watch a man cook—likely because my ex had never even made me toast. Harlan deftly cranked out a heaping plate of blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon. Everything he made had a homey, wholesome, quality-ingredients kind of taste. He didn’t even use pancake mix! Nobody I knew had ever actually pulled out real flour to make pancakes. He was a wonder and so were his foodgasmic flapjacks.

Shamelessly, I stuffed my face. Even if I hadn’t been served the tastiest breakfast of my life, I was destined to clean my plate. My dinner the night before had consisted of scotch and a bag of Fritos .

Harlan’s house really suited him. It was tidy and understated. And within mere moments, it had become clear that there was no woman in his life. All the furnishings were utilitarian. His bookshelves, side tables, and the kitchen table were all made of sturdy, quality wood in a simple, Shaker aesthetic. He’d either made them himself, or someone he knew was a furniture maker. There was no color on any of the walls or in any of the fabrics. Everything was gray or brown and every window had the misfortune of being covered in the same beige blinds that he must have bought in bulk.

My brain came alive with ideas. Design was my passion. It was the part of the remodel of the lodge I looked most forward to. After high school, I did a year toward a degree in interior design at College for Creative Studies in Detroit before dropping out and getting my realtor’s license. College had been a more competitive environment than I had expected, and the pressure had been too much for me. If I felt that inferior in one year of undergrad, I wouldn’t make it in the industry…or at least, that’s what I thought at the time. I was nineteen and it didn’t hurt that I had a shitty boyfriend who was all about skipping college and being a realtor in his dad’s company. Being the impressionable girl I was, I followed suit.

The relationship didn’t last, but my love for making spaces beautiful did. My old house was a masterpiece. It was Rustic meets Scandinavian. The work I’d put into that place was part of what had made it so hard to sell.

I took a bite of bacon as I continued to look around Harlan’s place. A framed picture hung on the kitchen wall near me. My curiosity drew me out of my chair until I was standing in front of it. A little girl of about six, cute as a button, was sitting on a swing with a glowing grin on her face. She had blonde pigtails and two missing teeth.

“Who’s this?” I asked. “Your niece? ”

Harlan was quiet for a moment and then sipped his coffee. “That’s my daughter.”

My eyes widened and I fought to keep my mouth from falling open. He seemed like such a solitary dude. Didn’t give off a dad vibe in any way. Sure, he was nurturing to the dogs, but I couldn’t imagine him raising a little girl. I looked around for any sign of a child, but there were no toys, lunchboxes, backpacks, or kid clothes.

“She doesn’t live here, does she?”

“Nashville. With her mom.”

“Wow. That’s far.” I made my way back to my seat.

Harlan was really good at hiding his thoughts, but I could tell two things about him from his voice and body language. His arms were crossed and his furrowed brow seemed to convey a warning. He didn’t want me to pry, and it was painful for him to be away from this little girl. And yet, my lack of impulse control won the day.

“She’s really cute,” I said. “What’s her name?”

“Shannon,” he said, reaching in his back pocket. “But she doesn’t look like that anymore.” He pulled out a school picture from his wallet.

In front of the standard blue background was a teenage version of the girl on the swing. She had all of her teeth, shoulder length blonde hair with a streak of purple, Harlan’s blue-gray eyes, and a nose ring. Something about the exasperated look on her face and her rebellious style made me like her immediately.

He asked, “You don’t have any kids, right?”

Please God, don’t ask me that .

“No.”

I’m sure my pain showed in my eyes, despite how hard I tried to hide it. Harlan stiffened and looked down at his coffee .

“I called my buddy Tyler. He owns a window company. I know it was presumptuous, but I figured you probably wouldn’t want to go through the time and expense of getting rid of all those animals, just to have them all climb back in through broken windows.”

I wanted to be mad at him for minding my business, but I couldn’t. He was absolutely right.

“Good idea.”

Harlan looked a little surprised at how easily I’d accepted his help. “I don’t know if you had windows in your plans, but I’m sure I can get Ty to give you a good price.”

“No, I didn’t plan for that. I also didn’t have critter removal in there either, but it seems I’ll need to be flexible in the face of unsavory surprises.” I shrugged.

“You will. And I’m sure there will be more of them,” he said as he stood up.

My stomach dropped, knowing he was right. I had cashed in my 401k and put it aside along with my share of the sale of the house, and a little money I’d saved in the year I lived at my brother’s. I knew I’d need some capital for repairs and improvements to the lodge. I’d carefully budgeted for what I presumed would need fixing, as well as a few months’ utilities and other startup costs. Right off the bat, here were a couple of major expenses I hadn’t accounted for, and I was sure he was right: there would be many more.

“I want to show you something,” Harlan said, motioning to me to follow him.

We walked down the hall to a bathroom and two bedrooms. He led me into the smaller one. The décor was consistent with the rest of the house. There was a queen-sized brass bed with a crazy quilt and a plain wood dresser. At the foot of the bed was an old chest sitting on a large rag rug. Two bedside tables flanked the bed with two simple lamps on top of them. It was a cozy room and I was well aware of why he was showing it to me.

“Now I know it probably doesn’t have all the luxurious amenities like your truck, but it’s open to you if you want it,” he said, facing me with his hands in the pockets of his jeans .

It was a very kind offer. And I had to admit, he was right about it being far more comfortable than my current sleeping arrangements. Yet, I still found myself unable to accept. A small part of it was that I didn’t trust myself to shack up with this good-looking guy without making some terrible choices. And if things got awkward between me and the only person in a five-mile radius, that could make for a rocky future at the lodge.

But more than that, I resisted because the whole idea behind this new life was to finally live the way I wanted in my own place. I’d just finished up a long stint of living off of my brother and before that, I’d lived in Rob’s house. Sure, the mortgage was in both of our names, and I did all the decorating, cleaning, cooking, etc. But Rob’s persona—and let’s be honest, his ego—were so huge, my wants were unimportant. His needs and desires always won out over mine. No autonomy, agency, or belonging.

I didn’t want to be a permanent houseguest at Harlan’s. It felt like more of the same.

“I know this may seem illogical, but I have my reasons for wanting to rough it. I really appreciate your offer and all of the support you’ve already given me. But I have to say thanks anyway.”

He stared at me for a moment. From his flared nostrils and reddened cheeks, I could tell he was frustrated. He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and unwrapped a stick, popping it into his mouth just as he had the first time I refused his hospitality. His manly jaw started working the gum as he stashed the pack and wrapper in his pocket.

“That said, I was wondering,” I said. His expression softened a bit. “Would it be okay with you if I ran back to get some clean clothes and maybe took a shower?”

My question seemed to please him. Whether it was the satisfaction of me proving I couldn’t survive completely on my own, his need to be of help, or possibly the idea of a naked woman in his shower, something I’d said brightened him up .

“Yeah, sure.” He did his best to hide it, but a smile pushed his lips slightly upward and his eyes glimmered a bit.

I headed out the side door off the kitchen and ran back along the trail to the lodge. In no time, I returned with an armful of clean clothes. Harlan sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and reading a thick book with a plastic-coated hard cover, like you’d get from the library. His eyes were a little squinty and laser-focused on the page before him. Must be a good one.

Witnessing his love for reading made me want to shout at fate or luck or whatever had put this hot, rugged, apparently literature-loving man in my path. It wasn’t fair that he was a reader. I had always enjoyed reading, and my ex never read anything longer than emails from his fantasy football league .

Harlan looked up from his book and closed it. He was about to speak when a phone on the wall rang. How charming that he still had a land line…with a cord . As he got up to answer it, it dawned on me that I hadn’t looked at my phone at all since I’d arrived. I’d been carrying it around, but hadn’t sent a text, made a call, played a game, or scrolled through Instagram for nearly twenty-four hours. It was really out of character for me considering I had a pretty bad small screen addiction. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my sweats and turned it on to see if I had any notifications.

“Hello?” Harlan said. “Oh hey. What time you coming by?” Must be his friend, I thought: the window guy. “Sounds good. Yeah, she’s here now. She’s gonna shower and then we’ll be there to meet you.” After a pause, he grumbled, “That’s enough of that, Ty.”

From his gritted teeth and furrowed brow, I had a sense his buddy was making dirty presumptions about our arrangement. To be fair, I’d had plenty of dirty thoughts about Harlan, so I wasn’t really disturbed by what I presumed was guy talk. In fact, I was kind of enjoying watching my hot neighbor squirm .

While I had his eye, I mouthed what’s your Wi-Fi password? and made a scribbling gesture for him to write it down for me. He shook his head and went back to trying to shut his buddy up.

“Tyler! Knock it off and get your ass down here, okay? Goodbye,” he said, hanging up the receiver.

“Sounds like quite the character,” I said. Harlan stared and chomped his gum. “So what’s that password? For your Wi-Fi?”

“I told you, there isn’t any.”

“ No , you shook your head. I thought you were telling me to hold on,“ I argued, and then horror struck me. “Are you saying you don’t have any internet ?“ I shrieked. I looked down and realized I also wasn’t getting any cell signal. I don’t know how I didn’t faint.

“No cell service out here, either. What you have in your hand is currently an expensive paperweight,” Harlan said with a broad grin.

I stared, flabbergasted. Half of my astonishment was about how completely cut off from civilization I was, and then other half was from the dizzying effect of his beautiful smile.

“What the hell? How am I supposed to keep in touch with… anyone ?“ I cried. Harlan pointed to the old, olive green phone on the wall. “How do you use your computer? Or…God, how do you watch Netflix?”

“I go to the library in Douglas when I need to use my laptop,” he said. “And I don’t watch TV, so I don’t really need the internet for streaming.”

“You don’t watch TV. Like… ever ?“ I asked. He shook his head.

How on God’s green earth could a person live alone, cut off from the whole world, with only a stack of books to keep them occupied? Astonishingly, Harlan seemed not only comfortable, but pleased with the simplicity of it. His home was a few decades behind in the technology department and apparently he liked it that way .

If I was going to trouble him to use his phone on top of the free lunch and the hot shower, I’d better narrow the calls down to one. I didn’t want to abuse his hospitality by calling everyone I knew simply because I felt an odd panic over the uselessness of my cell. I’d just call Brian and he could let our parents know I was safe.

It was just as well, anyway. Outside of family, I didn’t have a lot of people to call. In addition to the bulk of the marital assets, I’d also lost all my friends in the divorce. It made sense as all my girlfriends were the wives of Rob’s college and work buddies. Still, it would have been nice to have just one of them stick by me.

“Would it be okay if I call my brother? I just want him to know I’m okay.”

“Of course,” he said, heading back to his seat and picking up his book again.

I dialed the push button wall mount phone and after a few rings, Brian answered.

“Hey B. It’s me,” I said.

“Jesus! There you are. I’ve been waiting for you to call since last night. You had me freaked the hell out, Maisie!”

Oops.

I hadn’t thought that he’d worry. I’d been so distracted by all the surprises, obstacles, and one very good-looking neighbor, I hadn’t even thought about the importance of checking in. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have any service here. My neighbor is letting me use his phone.”

“That Harlan guy? Is he safe? Are you sure he’s not a serial killer or something?”

A laugh bubbled up. “Yeah, I’m fairly sure he’s not a serial killer,” I said.

Harlan’s shoulders shook before turned and looked over his shoulder at me. He gave a half smile and went back to his book. God, even a half smile made my skin feel hot .

“So how am I supposed to get a hold of you? Call this number?” Brian asked. He sounded slightly frantic. I knew the whole setup was a little disconcerting for him. But, to be honest, he was being a bit dramatic.

“Is it cool if I tell my brother he can call here if he wants to reach me?” I asked Harlan. I felt weird about imposing even further on him, but he didn’t seem bothered. He nodded without looking and continued to read. “Yeah, you can reach me here if you need to,” I told Brian. “I’ll check in from time to time as well.”

“You know…if this doesn’t work out,” Bryan began and I already wanted to die. He was using his big brother voice; the warning one that gave the impression that he knew better. “You’re welcome to come back here and stay for as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, B,” I said, trying to ignore my throat thickening from his lack of faith in me. “It’s going to be fine. It has to.”

Harlan turned and looked at me. My voice just before hanging up must have revealed my hurt. His gray-blue eyes were soft under brows slanted with concern he never voiced.

“There’s a clean towel in there for you. Water here is harder than you’re used to, so it’ll take a little longer to rinse out shampoo. Good thing you have a sensible haircut, or you’d be in there forever.”

I had no idea how to respond to his comment about my hair. It was just this side of a compliment.

“Yeah, good thing,” I said and made my way to the bathroom.

Once inside, I stared in the mirror for far too long. It had been a really long time since I looked at myself through the eyes of a guy I was interested in. I’d chopped off my hair as part of Maisie 2.0. It was wavy brown and at one time flowed down to the middle of my back, but now it barely reached my shoulders and I had bangs. Bangs . I hadn’t had bangs since high school. I ran a hand through it and wondered if I’d done the right thing. It was certainly easier to manage, and considering I was likely to be spending my time cleaning up animal waste and broken glass, I didn’t have a ton of time for primping.

My eyes looked a little sunken. They were the same coffee color as always, only now, I had some dark circles and puffiness from my less than restful night in the truck. Next to a woodland god like Harlan, I’m sure I looked like a cave-dwelling hag. But maybe a good shower would restore me to looking at least semi-human.

When I emerged from the bathroom about twenty-five minutes later, I felt like a new woman. Clean clothes on a clean body had me ready to face every challenge that decrepit old building could threw my way. Harlan looked up from his book and his eyes went wide with what I think was surprise, but there was something else there, too.

“That was quick,” he said.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to do a full spa treatment. I’ve taken up enough of your time and hospitality,” I said, tucking my wet hair behind my ear.

“It’s no trouble, really,” he said as he dropped his bookmark in place and closed his book. He laid it on the table and pulled on his windbreaker. “Let’s go get you some windows, huh?”

“Sounds good.” I slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my dirty clothes, and after a short stop to scratch some silky ears in the paddock, we headed to the path. I had a new lease on life after a hearty breakfast and a shower. Everything was looking up.