Chapter 8
Hayley was up at five in the morning to cook Wade’s first meal of the day. She decided to prepare a full farmer’s breakfast as well as her homemade Maine blueberry muffins and some freshly squeezed orange juice.
After cooling the muffins, she scrambled the eggs, fried the bacon, whipped up the grits, and squeezed the oranges. She carefully arranged the covered plates on a wooden tray and slipped the whole thing into a pizza warmer, carefully balancing it as she clicked the leash onto Leroy’s collar and led him out the back door to her car in the garage.
The kids weren’t even up yet. It was still dark outside. But she knew Wade had an early sound check at the Criterion Theatre and had requested his breakfast be delivered at 6:30
A.M.
After Hayley dropped off the food to Wade, her plan was to drive Leroy to the vet because he was due for a few shots.
Leroy excitedly scampered toward the car because he thought they might be going for a hike in the park. Only when they pulled up to the veterinarian’s office would the cold hard truth hit him head on. Panic would then set in. So she had some time to enjoy his rare good behavior.
Hayley pulled into the nearly full parking lot of the Harborside Hotel and found an empty spot. She got out and walked around behind the Subaru wagon and popped open the hatchback where she had carefully placed Wade’s breakfast.
“Stay here, Leroy, I’ll be right back.”
Leroy started yapping.
“I’m serious,” Hayley sighed. “This will only take a moment.”
Leroy continued yapping.
“Leroy, shut up!” Hayley yelled as she lifted the pizza warmer with Wade’s breakfast. But she knew it was hopeless. Once Leroy got going, there was no stopping him. She knew what had to be driving him wild. It had to be another dog.
Sure enough, when Hayley turned around, she saw Wade walking out of the hotel with a giant St. Bernard on a long, studded, black leather leash.
Wade spotted her and waved.
Hayley set the pizza warmer back down. “Hush, Leroy!”
Wade ambled over to them. “Morning, Hayley.”
Hayley checked her watch. “It’s almost six-thirty. You ready for your breakfast?”
“Sure thing. But I have to take Delilah out for some fresh air first,” Wade said, rubbing the top of the St. Bernard’s head.
“Now? I don’t want your food to get cold.”
“Understandable. But I don’t want Delilah peeing on the carpet in the hotel. This tour is expensive enough as it is without having to reimburse for property damage.”
Of course Wade wanted to walk his own dog instead of handing her over to a roadie to exercise her for him.
God, what a man.
Leroy stopped barking and was staring at Delilah curiously.
Maybe it was because Delilah was staring at Leroy with a dopey grin.
If this were an animated movie, there would probably be little red hearts shown thumping in her eyes.
Some drool from Delilah’s slobbering mouth landed on Hayley’s shoe.
“What’s your little spitfire’s name?” Wade asked, his deep baritone drawl sending shivers up Hayley’s spine.
“Leroy, and he’s a pain in my butt. He’s always barking at other dogs.”
“He doesn’t seem to be barking now.”
Wade was right.
For once, Leroy was being quiet.
Hayley turned to see if he was okay.
Leroy was staring back at the obviously love-struck St. Bernard.
Leroy then jumped over the seat into the back of the car where Hayley had just set down the pizza warmer. He ran right over it to get to Delilah.
“Leroy, no!” Hayley wailed as she threw open the flap to the pizza warmer and peered inside. “I think he just crushed your blueberry muffin.”
“No worries. I’m not hungry right now anyway.”
Hayley glanced at him, concerned. “You’re not?”
“I can eat later. Why don’t we take the dogs for a walk along the shore path? We may have found a love connection.”
“But you hardly know me and, well, I am technically working for you and . . .” Hayley noticed Wade grinning. “You were talking about the dogs, weren’t you?”
Wade nodded before bursting out laughing.
Hayley wanted to die on the spot.
Leroy craned his neck to sniff at Delilah. Delilah stepped back, acting coy and feminine, despite the fact that she was five times the size of her suitor.
“I have to get Leroy to the vet and then I have a ton of errands to run and—”
“What time does the vet open?”
“Eight.”
“It’s not even seven. Come on, let the dogs get to know each other. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get to know each other a little, too.”
Hayley nodded. “Okay.”
After all, he was the boss. If he would rather take a walk than eat the delicious meal Hayley had slaved over the stove to prepare for him, that was his decision. She tried not to be offended. But then it occurred to her that she was being asked on a morning walk by Wade Springer.
Screw the eggs.
Hayley and Wade strolled along the narrow dirt path that followed the shoreline from the harbor to the stately mansions on the other side of town owned by some of the richest families in the country.
The sun had just started coming up.
The waves crashed violently against the rocks, and Hayley and Wade let Leroy and Delilah off their leashes to go explore the seaweed and snails and starfish that had come in with the last tide.
Delilah was so exited to be off her leash, she nearly knocked Hayley off her feet as she broke into a run.
Hayley lost her balance and nearly fell flat on her face before Wade caught her around the waist to keep her steady.
Another shiver shot up her spine.
And then she noticed a flash.
Just like the one at the Balance Rock Inn.
There he was.
Darrell Rodick. That obnoxious pint-size paparazzi.
“Darrell Rodick, stop taking pictures!”
He was about thirty feet away.
She could see him checking his digital camera.
“Awesome!” he cried. “It looks like you’re hugging! I’ll get at least fifty dollars for this one!”
And off he went.
Hayley was not going to let the little runt get away with this again.
She started chasing him.
Wade called after her, “Hayley, relax! It’s no big deal!”
But there was no way she was going to let herself be plastered all over the front page of both papers again.
She huffed and puffed and ran as hard as she could.
Hayley had maybe run for about thirty seconds before she began sweating and heaving, and her feet ached.
Darrell was already out of view, having ducked into a wooded area, and it was painfully clear that he was a wiry little kid with boundless energy and she was a woman in her thirties who hadn’t been out for a healthy run in months. Ever since someone took a potshot at her in the park. But that’s another story.
She slowed down and was about to turn back toward the shore when a man jumped out of the bushes and grabbed her.
Hayley spun around in his arms and slammed the palm of her hand into the bridge of his nose, a trick she had learned in a self-defense class she had taken with Mona.
The man threw his hands in front of his face and yelped. “Jesus Mary!”
She recognized him immediately.
“Bruce, what the hell are you doing?”
“I think my nose is broken.”
“Serves you right for scaring me like that.”
“I was staking out Jesse DeSoto but he spotted me and took off running. I thought you were him. I wanted to question him.”
“By leaping out of the bushes?”
“He’s a slippery little bugger and I figured it was the only way to get him to talk to me,” Bruce said, fumbling for some Kleenex in his jeans pocket. “My nose is bleeding. Thanks, Hayley.”
“I’m sorry, Bruce.”
“What are you doing out here so early?”
“Walking Leroy.”
Bruce pressed the tissue to his nostrils and moaned and then said, “I see you’ve got company.”
Hayley turned to see Wade walking toward them, both Leroy and Delilah back on their leashes.
The two dogs were brushing against each other flirtatiously.
“You never cease to amaze me, Hayley,” Bruce said.
“What do you mean?”
“I never thought you to be the type to get all girly-girl giggly over the first overrated singing cowboy that looks at you twice.”
“And I never thought you to be the type to be jealous of anyone who pays me a little attention because you’re too much of a coward to admit you like me.”
There.
She said it.
And she’d been waiting a long time.
Without another word, Bruce turned on his heel and stalked off, the wad of blood-soaked tissue pressed to his nose.
“And when did you ever hear me giggle once?” Hayley yelled at him.
But he was already out of earshot.
Why didn’t she have this many men interested in her in high school?
She would have had a much better experience.
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
Just the other day as I was leaving the office, I decided to pick up a few items at the grocery store because, as most of you have probably heard by now, I am currently Wade Springer’s on-tour personal chef (insert
squealing!
). But enough of that right now. Back to my point.
As I was walking toward the front doors of the store, which are made of glass, I happened to see a reflection of a person I knew. I couldn’t quite place the name, but she looked so familiar. I spun around to get a better look and say hello. But, strangely, no one was there.
Which is a miracle since it was 5
P.M.
and we all know how crowded the store gets when people get off work. I looked up and down the parking lot. No sign of her. So I turned back around and, wouldn’t you know, there she was again!
That’s when it hit me. The slightly chubby, out-of-shape person who looked vaguely familiar to me in the reflection of the glass was me!
I let out a horrified
scream
at the exact moment poor Mrs. Crowley chose to exit the store. I shocked her so badly with my screaming, she threw her grocery bag straight up in the air! It turned upside down, and the next thing I knew, it was raining cans of cat food from the sky! They all began hitting the ground around us and rolling wildly all over the parking lot. I felt so awful for scaring this poor woman half to death that I started running around gathering the runaway cans. I was huffing and puffing and waving my arms like a madwoman so no one would hit me with their car while I was bending over collecting all the cans.
I had to stop because I was completely out of breath. That was the moment I decided to take matters into my own hands and get rid of some of my unwanted pounds. First thing in the morning I was going to call the local gym and make an appointment with a personal trainer for some exercise tips that would help me get into better shape. But, first, I had to get into the store for my groceries and pick up one of those delectable black forest cheesecakes at the bakery. I know what you’re thinking, but in the immortal words of my personal heroine Scarlett O’Hara, “Tomorrow is another day.”
I called Abbey at the local gym, and made an appointment to drop by during my lunch hour. Maybe start with a little running on the treadmill. Nothing too taxing. As I breezed through the doors with newfound determination and a very high energy level, I felt my jaw drop to my chest as I stood there surveying the room in my ratty sweats and baggy, stained sweatshirt. Apparently this was where all of the beautiful people in Bar Harbor hung out. Where did they all come from? And what the hell happened to their body fat? Had any of them ever touched a plate of biscuits and gravy in their lives? Standing there slack-jawed, looking at their perfectly toned bodies, I suddenly felt every biscuit and gravy plate I had eaten in my entire lifetime just clinging to my whole body!
Seriously, some of them were actually wearing spandex! I hadn’t seen spandex since those old MTV videos of Olivia Newton-John singing “Physical.”
So much for the gym. I turned around and hightailed it out of there.
No, tomorrow I will just start walking to work. And I’ll need everyone’s help. No matter how many of you I try to flag down, yell for you to stop, or try jumping in front of your car begging for a ride,
please
just smile and wave to me as you drive right past me, and be happy in the knowledge that you are, in the end, helping me. And just ignore any curse words I may scream out as you drive away. I’m sure I will get used to the seven-minute walk to the office in no time!
But now for today’s recipes. Of course, I haven’t been able to get biscuits and gravy off my mind since my ill-fated trip to the gym. But I told myself that it is totally fine for me to make them because how else will I know if they will be the perfect accompaniment to Wade’s country fried chicken if I didn’t whip up a test batch to try ahead of time?
But, first, a nice cocktail should set the right tone, allowing you to relax before you begin your baking. So mix, shake, pour, and enjoy!
1 ounce vodka
½ ounce Cointreau
3 ounces cranberry juice
Ice
Lemon slice for garnish
Combine all of your ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake for 20 seconds. Strain into a chilled martini glass and squeeze a little lemon juice in, then garnish and forget your troubles.
Homemade Country Biscuits
2 cups of all purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
3 ounces cold butter, diced
8 ounces buttermilk
In a bowl, combine the dry ingredients and knead in the butter with your fingers. Add buttermilk and gently knead on a floured surface only until the dough is mixed together.
With a floured rolling pin flatten out to about an inch thick and use a 3-inch round biscuit cutter or a glass right from your cupboard to cut out the circles. Place on a greased baking sheet.
Place in a preheated 400 degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes or until golden brown. Remove and brush melted butter on them if you like.
1 pound ground pork sausage
2 tablespoons butter
¼ cup all purpose flour
Salt and pepper to taste
3 cups milk
Brown the pork sausage in a large skillet over medium high heat. Remove cooked sausage to a paper towel–lined plate, leaving drippings in pan.
Melt butter into the sausage drippings.
Reduce heat to medium. Add flour, stirring constantly until mixture turns a golden brown.
Gradually whisk the milk into the skillet. Once the milk mixture is thickened and begins to bubble, return the sausage to the skillet.
Season with salt and pepper and reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Spoon over warm buttered split biscuits and let the feasting begin!