High Spirits by Carol J. Perry

Author:Carol J. Perry [Perry, Carol J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2022-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Maureen wasn’t surprised when the Babe Ruth Suite couple stopped at the reception desk to buy tickets for Prancer and lunch. “Oh, Ms. Doherty, we’re having such a good time. We drove over to St. Petersburg to see Babe Ruth’s house. It’s for sale, you know. Simply gorgeous. And did you see all of us on the news? We were kind of in the shadows, but I taped the whole thing so I can play it back for the folks back home. If you lighten it a little you can see us just fine.” A happy giggle. “I wonder if they’ll take pictures of us after the movie tonight. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I’m so pleased that you’re enjoying Haven,” she said, quite honestly. “I think you’ll enjoy the movie.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Sam Elliot is in it. I know I’ll love it and the food here is fantastic. Did you have the Eggnog French Toast yesterday? To die for. Any chance of getting the recipe?”

“I’m sure the cook will be glad to share it. You’re not the only one who’s asked. I’ll print a few copies. They’ll be here on the desk later today.”

Another idea. Print a cookbook of Haven House recipes and sell it in the gift shop. When we get a gift shop, that is—and I’ll talk to Ted about the French toast, she thought. So many ideas had bombarded her senses lately. Some were doable. Some were just so much pie in the sky. The thoughts continued. I have such plans, such dreams for this old place. A year ago, back in Boston, I never imagined I’d have such deep concern about a century-old, falling apart inn.

What was that line on the new Zoltar card? “Questions, rumors, deep concern,” she said aloud.

“What? Did you say something?” the woman asked.

“Sorry. I guess I must be talking to myself.” Maureen blushed. “It’s been quite a week.”

“Sure has. Well, see you in the movies!” The couple left, chatting happily to one another.

There’s not much doubt about the question and rumors, she realized, and the deep concern fits in perfectly. She put the BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign on the desk and opened the louvred door to the dining room. She’d talk to Ted right now, before something else turned up to distract her. She tapped on the kitchen door before pushing it open.

Ted hurried to meet her. “What’s up? Anything wrong?”

“Not this time.” She smiled and asked about the French toast recipe.

“No problem,” Ted said. “My mother used to make it around the holidays. I’m pretty sure she got it from my grandmother. I’ll write it out for you right now.” He reached into the breast pocket of the immaculately white chef’s jacket for a pen. How does he stay so clean around all this food? He wrote in a neat, round-lettered cursive on a lined index card.

“Only half a dozen ingredients,” she said. “My kind of cooking.”

“The trick is in the day-old bread and the right spices.” He handed her the card.

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