Part 9 (1/2)
”I'm sure.” Hannah found herself enjoying Lisa's excitement about a thousand times more than she would have enjoyed the luncheon. She'd cleared the subst.i.tution with Delores, who had seemed very glad that Lisa, and not Hannah, would be attending the luncheon with her. ”Mother told me she was looking forward to sitting next to you because if I went, I'd just fidget through the whole thing.”
Lisa just stared at Hannah. ”Would you really?”
”Probably. I don't like formal luncheons and I can't stand guest speakers. They always go on and on until I'm bored stiff. I really didn't want to go, Lisa. You're doing me a big favor by taking my place.”
”Oh, good! I've never been to a formal luncheon before. And I'll actually get to see and hear Samantha Summerfield. I'm so lucky I can hardly believe it!” Lisa stopped speaking and gave a little sigh. ”What shall I wear? I've only got one party dress. It's the one you bought me two years ago. And it's way too warm for summer.”
”Mich.e.l.le's got that covered,” Hannah told her, pointing to the garment bag hanging on one of the hooks by the back door. ”She picked out something just in case you didn't want to run home and change. Go try it on.”
Several minutes later, Lisa emerged from the miniscule bathroom and she was smiling. ”We're the same size. How does it look? I couldn't get far enough away from the mirror in the bathroom to see.”
”Gorgeous,” Hannah p.r.o.nounced as Lisa turned around. The floral print dress with cap sleeves and full skirt was perfect for a garden luncheon.
”I'd better go take it off before it gets chocolate or something just as bad on it.”
”Just as bad?” Hannah teased. ”Bite your tongue, Lisa. There's nothing bad about chocolate!”
Mich.e.l.le had just come in to help Hannah handle the noon rush when Herb came in the front door. ”Where's Lisa?” he asked.
”At the charity luncheon as Mother's guest,” Hannah told him.
”Wow. That's nice of your mother to take her. She's crazy about Samantha Summerfield.”
”Coffee?” Mich.e.l.le asked, holding out a cup.
”Thanks.” Herb took the coffee and turned back to Hannah. ”I need to talk to you, Hannah. I've got a big problem, and you're the only one who can help me.”
Hannah led the way to the kitchen, hoping that Herb's problem had to do with what to get Lisa for her birthday, or how to make dog biscuits at home. She could handle both of those. There was bound to be a recipe for dog biscuits online, and she knew the brand of perfume that Lisa loved. But from the frown on Herb's face, she sensed the problem was a bit more serious than that.
”Can Dillon come in?” Herb asked her. ”He's out in the back in the car.”
”Sure, as long as I can whistle for him this time. I want to see if I can do it.”
Herb removed the dog whistle from his pocket and handed it to her. Then he went to open the back door. ”Three whistles and a pause. And then two more whistles.”
”Got it.” Hannah put the whistle to her lips and blew on it three times. She waited a moment and then she blew twice more.
There was a thump as Dillon hit the pavement. A few seconds later he was through the open door and racing up to them. He skidded to a stop at Hannah's feet and looked up at her.
”He knows I blew the whistle?” she asked, incredulous.
”Yes, but that's because it's still in your hand. Give him a pat and tell him he's a good boy.”
”Good boy, Dillon,” Hannah said, patting the top of his head and rubbing his ears. ”Hold on a second and I'll give Daddy a treat to give to you.”
A few moments later, Herb was settled on a stool at the stainless steel workstation and Dillon was stretched out on the floor next to him, chewing his dog treat.
”Now tell me what's wrong,” Hannah said, setting a plate of the Zucchini Cookies she'd just made in front of Herb.
”I need a favor. A big one.” He delayed their dialogue by taking a bite of his cookie. ”These are good,” he said. ”What are they?”
”Zucchini Cookies.” Hannah realized that Herb wasn't eager to go into details about that favor he needed. She was equally uneager to hear those details, but there was no time like the present. ”What's the favor?”
”It's my cousin Mary Kate,” Herb said. ”She's got the flu and she can't be more than a couple of seconds away from the...” Herb stopped and cleared his throat. ”Trust me. You don't want to hear the details.”
”You're right. I don't. So what does Mary Kate have to do with this favor you need?”
”Mary Kate is Amazing Herb's a.s.sistant.”
Hannah groaned. She couldn't help it. She'd promised herself she'd never agree to be Herb's magic show a.s.sistant again.
”I know you don't like helping me out with the act,” Herb said, sighing deeply. ”I can't blame you for that. It's not much fun getting into the Cabinet of Death. But Lisa can't do it. She's just too claustrophobic. And n.o.body else except Mary Kate knows the act. Could you be my a.s.sistant just once more, Hannah? I'm begging you. Otherwise I'll have to drop out of the talent show tonight.”
Hannah took a deep breath and told herself to hold firm. And then she glanced at Herb. He looked unbelievably plaintive, so she switched her gaze to Dillon. Dear heavens! There were two of them! Two sets of begging puppy-dog eyes! Herb's entreating orbs reminded her of a ba.s.set hound pleading for a pat on the head. And Dillon's eyes were as sad as a grieving widow's, so desolate that Hannah could swear she saw tears glistening in their depths.
”Okay,” she said, bowing to the inevitable.
”You mean...you'll do it?”
”Yes. If I don't help you out, your dog's going to cry. And if there's one thing I can't stand in this world, it's a crying puppy dog.”
SAUSAGE AND CHEESE PANCAKES.
Preheat oven to the lowest possible setting, rack in the middle position.
1 large egg 1 cup unflavored yogurt cup cream 2 Tablespoons vegetable oil 2 teaspoons baking powder teaspoon baking soda teaspoon salt 1 cup all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) cup ground fried breakfast sausage, broken up into small pieces 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese (approximately 4 ounces) Beat the egg with a wire whisk in a medium-sized bowl until it's fluffy.
Whisk in the yogurt, cream, and the vegetable oil.
In a small bowl, combine the baking powder, baking soda, and salt with the flour. Stir it around with a fork until it's evenly distributed.
Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir well.
Mich.e.l.le's Note: At this point you can stop and refrigerate your pancake batter overnight. Then all you have to do is give it a good stir in the morning, add your sausage and your cheese, and fry your pancakes. If you decide to do this, don't preheat your oven until you're ready to fry in the morning.
Add the fried sausage and shredded cheese to your batter, and stir in thoroughly.
If you're using an electric griddle, spray it with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and preheat it to the pancake setting. If you're using a griddle on the stovetop or a large frying pan, spray it with Pam and heat it over medium-high heat. It's the perfect temperature when a few drops of water, sprinkled on the surface with your fingers, skitter around and then evaporate.
If you want to pour your pancakes onto the griddle, transfer the batter to a pitcher. If you'd prefer to dip a large spoon or a small cup into the bowl and transfer the batter to the griddle that way, that's fine, too. (I use a quarter-cup plastic measure that has a little spout on the sidewhen I pour the batter onto the griddle, approximately 3 Tablespoons come out and 1 Tablespoon sticks to the sides, which is perfect!) Fry your pancakes until they're puffed and dry around the edges. If you look closely, little bubbles will form at the edges. If you're not sure they're done, lift one edge with a spatula and take a peek. It will be golden brown on the bottom when it's ready to flip.
Turn your pancakes and wait for the other side to fry. Again, you can test your pancake by lifting it slightly with a spatula and peeking to see if it's golden brown.
If you don't have a horde of people sitting at your table waiting to eat those pancakes and you want to keep them warm until everyone comes to the breakfast table, put them in a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan, separated by paper towels, and slip them into a warm oven set at the lowest temperature until your sleepyheads arrive.
Hannah's Note: Mike likes these with maple syrup. Norman prefers them plain with a pat of b.u.t.ter on top. Mother likes them with a dollop of sour cream on top and Mich.e.l.le and I just love to fry an egg sunny-side up with the yolk still runny and slip that on top of a stack of pancakes.