Eight o'clock in the morning found us lugging our suitcases out to the cars and doped up on coffee as we embarked on yet another adventure. We were in a private jet within half an hour, still yawning and trying to make groggy conversation at best. 

When we were in flight, the attendants came to take orders for breakfast and coffee or whatever else we needed. When they brought our drinks, we each received a little note card from Harry that said, "All my favorite conversation's always made in the AM." And then he wrote a little personal note to each of us. Then, during breakfast, Harry asked us to each tell about our most memorable family vacation from when we were young. Cameras were already rolling.

Surprisingly, Dove spoke up first. "When I was about five, my nanny packed a suitcase for me to go on a family vacation. When she wasn't looking, I took all of  my clothes out and put all of my Barbies and all their clothing inside instead. I figured they would want to come along for the vacation. My mom was furious when we got to Eleuthera and she had to buy all new clothes for me." That story made all of us laugh, and it warmed my heart up towards Dove just a little. It was through those very brief insights into her life that I began to think she was more normal than I had originally thought. She was definitely more normal than Demi.

"Okay, it's my turn!" I said, trying to hold back my laughter until I actually told the story. "When I was really little, my parents and I drove to San Diego to visit my aunt. My mom told me we would have to stay in a hotel because my aunt's house was too small. So, we drove up to the hotel and my dad went in to pay for our room. My mom didn't notice I had sneaked out of the car when he left, and the next thing she knew I had stripped to my underwear and I was playing in the fountain in the hotel lobby because I thought it was the pool.

Harry's face turned beet red laughing at that, and everyone else thought it was pretty funny too. That more than made up for the embarrassment of having my parents yell at me in front of everyone in the hotel all those years ago.

"Speaking of pool stories," Sara told us, "I was wearing a swim diaper while swimming in my grandma's pool when we visiting in the summer. Let's just say the swim diaper didn't do its job and the whole pool had to be pumped and sanitized. My grandparents were not happy with me!"

We were almost on the floor laughing so hard at Sara's story, we had to take several moments just to catch our breath. Harry, still chuckling, said, "Well, these aren't exactly the heartwarming stories I was thinking of, but please carry on." 

"I think that if you don't end up having some mishaps with your family and laughing along the way, then there won't be many good memories," I said. "It's all about your ability to weather the bad and the good, you know." I glanced at Harry and he nodded knowingly, giving me a look that I knew was just for me.

The rest of the ladies shared stories that were just as hilarious, including grandparents unknowingly making sexual innuendos, petty larceny, ripping jeans in front of members of the opposite sex, etc. My stomach has never hurt so much from laughing so hard. 

Finally, Harry said, "Well, I doubt Gemma will be too happy with me sharing this story, but it's got to be told."

She gave him a dirty look, indicating that she knew exactly which story he was talking about. I was glad she was joining us on this adventure, especially now that I knew exactly who she was.

"Well," Harry began. "Our family had gone to an amusement park when Gem and I were just 4 and 2. We got our photos taken in this photo booth that had funny filters, kind of like Snapchat does now, and Gemma laughed so hard, she ended up wetting herself." We all laughed so hard, feeling Gemma's pain, because probably most of us had done that at one point or another. "But she was old enough that our mum didn't carry a change of clothes for her, Mum made her wear a pair of my training pants and and extra pair of my shorts."

While we laughed even harder, Gemma said, "I was four! Okay? No judging. Besides, I've got plenty of stories to tell about when Harry was little, and I'll save them for a day when he's not listening."

Harry gave her a dirty look, but it was all in good fun. I found it endearing to watch the two of them interact since I had no siblings or even cousins close to my age. My dad's sister, Aunt Kate, never married, but eventually settled down with her partner, Amy, who only had two children who were grown by the time I even met them. I had a few cousins on my mom's side, but no one on my mom's side of the family made much of an effort to see us after she left us. If her parents had still been alive, I know they would have wanted to see me. They were the only ones I was close to on my mom's side.

Several hours later, we landed on a tiny airstrip on very small island in northern Lake Huron. We were met by several large elegant carriages drawn by horses. The carriage drivers took all of our belongings and loaded them onto one of the carriages while we boarded the other one. 

A tour guide addressed us. "Good morning and welcome. My name is Samuel. I'll be your master tour guide for your stay on Mackinac Island. The first thing you may have noticed is that our vehicles all run on real horse power. Gas-powered vehicles are not allowed on Mackinac Island, so your means of transportation are either horse-drawn carriages, bicycles, or the two feet the Good Lord gave ya!" 

We took off, then Samuel began the obligatory introduction to Mackinac Island, which was actually pretty interesting. The island was essential to the Great Lakes Fur Trade in the 17th Century, which eventually led to the establishment of a military fort, Fort Mackinac on the island. The entire island is a National Historical Landmark, and over 80% of the island is preserved in Mackinac State Park. 

Samuel continued to tell us that Mackinac Island was home to one of the oldest golf courses in the US, to which Harry did a fist pump and shouted, "Yes!"  I assumed that golf lessons would be on the agenda some time during our stay. 

We were just pulling up to the Grand Hotel, where we would be staying for the next four nights, and I seriously had a moment where I felt like I was living someone else's life. I could almost believe that I had arrived in the late 19th century with servants removing our parcels from the carriage while we absorbed the stunning view from the Grand Hotel's 600-foot wide front porch. The Grand Hotel sat comfortably atop a high hill, facing out towards Lake Huron and across to the lower Peninsula of Michigan.

If I could ignore for a moment the fact that everyone around us was carrying an iPhone or an iPad and stopping to photograph every single flower on the island, I could have pretended I was an important dignitary, checking into the highest hotel on the hill, with a grand hat atop my head and a bustle adorning my backside.

The hotel was enormous, to say the least, and very, very colorful. No modern grays and blacks, or muted tans and taupes. The Grand Hotel was bright cobalt blues, more greens than I knew the names for, fuchsias, pinks, scarlets. It was a lot to take in, but I loved every single bit of it. 

Once we were checked in to the hotel, we assembled in a small but comfortable meeting room. Ben addressed us, "Ladies, take some time to get settled for the next four nights, and then let's meet back here at 3:00 PM, sharp. Harry says, 'Dress for golf!'"

Great. Of all the sports, I didn't know a thing about golf. At least it wasn't a quick, thinking-on-your-feet type game. I had heard through the rumor mill that Harry was quite fond of golf, so it made sense he might want a lifelong partner who would enjoy the sport alongside him.

The ten women had various degrees of knowledge and expertise with the game, eleven including Gemma. Jordin schooled all of us and gave Harry a run for his money, too. In between times of actual instruction and playing the game, I couldn't help but notice how quiet it was out here. Sure, we were still on an island filled with people, surrounded by cameramen, but there was no traffic noise at all, only the occasional honk of a freighter horn. If anything else, it was only the clip clop of horses' hooves and the call of the seagulls as they ventured inland. 

After golf, we returned to our rooms to freshen up. We were assigned to rooms two by two, but I was eager to see everyone's accommodations because the rooms were so unique. A bit flowery for my tastes, but that only added to the turn of the century charm. I shared a lilac-themed room with Ariana; apparently lilacs were a big deal on Mackinac Island and there was a festival to celebrate them every spring. 

We ate dinner together in a private dining room at the Grand Hotel, and then we ventured out to the town below. It was a rather cool evening, which was nice, and hopefully that also meant that we would encounter fewer tourists. Crowds didn't bother me, but for some reason, I always carried some anxiety that Harry would get mobbed, or the rest of us for that matter. We always had plenty of security with us, and producers who were watching out for papps. If anyone even wanted to snap a shot of Harry and his harem, they'd have some major competition with the cameras rolling all around us. 

The little town matched the hotel perfectly, Victorian inns and storefronts lined the street, with enormous baskets of hanging flowers everywhere and lots of happy noise, but again, no automobile or typical city sounds. It was like we had taken a step back in time. 

We only managed to hit a few shops before heading back up to the hotel, since it had been a long day. We were then invited to the pool, which had been reserved just for us, to have a cocktail party with Harry to enjoy the summer evening. I found it nice to dress up again and do something fancier than I would at home. When Harry greeted me, he hugged me and said, "Now, no stripping down to your underwear and jumping into the pool. This isn't that kind of party." I laughed, and assured him I would behave appropriately. 

I couldn't remember a nicer evening since I'd first started the WMEB journey - just a relaxed atmosphere with everyone enjoying themselves, no drama on the horizon, a perfect warm summer night with the sun just about to hand its job over to the moon. 

And Harry, oh Harry always looked so perfect. It had to be some kind of trickery. He had changed into a light-weight paisley button-down shirt, except that he had only done about two buttons. The rest of the the garment hung open at his chest, revealing much of his butterfly tattoo, and at his waistline, so the skin above his low-slung skinny jeans peeked through without shame. 

It was the first time I had a really, truly, hungry sexual desire for Harry and I responded by downing the nearest drink I could find. I hated that I was so visually stimulated by him, or that it seemed to be out of my control. There was definitely substance to his personality and I was attracted to that as well, but I had never had such strong physical reaction to a man as I had to Harry. It was almost animalistic. I couldn't decided if I loved it or hated it. 

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Here are my gifts to you for being such awesome readers - Golf Harry collages. Seriously, I find him the most attractive when he's dressed in his golf gear. IDK why.

You're welcome! :D

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I'm excited about this location because these are my stomping grounds. Mackinac Island is about half way between where I grew up and where I live now. Mackinac island is technically in Lake Huron, just a little to the east of the Mackinac Bridge, which joins Michigan's Upper and Lower Peninsulas. The Mackinac Bridge also separates Lake Huron and Lake Michigan. By the way, it's pronounced "Mack-in-AW" Island / Bridge (never, ever MackinACK). 

Mackinac Island is one of my favorite spots in the world. Been there tons of times, but I've never had the privilege to actually stay on the island. That's an item on my bucket list - maybe not even to stay in the Grand Hotel, but in one of the quaint bed and breakfast inns. 

Mackinac Island is famous for its fudge, among other things, and it's often the first thing you can smell when you get off the ferry. (It's only accessible by ferry or airplane.) Of course, on an island where horses are the main mode of transportation, you can imagine other smells as well. My father once made the now-legendary comment after getting off the ferry, "Yep, still smells like I remember - horse shit and fudge." lol

I hope you enjoyed this laid-back chapter, heavy on the Harry pictures! :D