Death of a Chocoholic

by Lee Hollis

  Or cared at all.

  Hayley pocketed the key. “What are friends for?”

  Bessie beamed from ear to ear.

  Bessie picked up a small box. This one was wrapped in yellow cellophane. She blew the cat hair off the top of it before handing it to Hayley. “Here are the truffles I promised for you and the kids. Enjoy!”

  Hayley stared at the box and forced a smile on her face. “Yummy.”

  Chapter 6

  Hayley stared at the blank computer screen as she cradled her laptop while sitting up in her bed.

  Her column was due in the morning and she still hadn’t come up with a topic to write about, let alone a recipe to include at the end.

  Chocolate, however, was on her mind a lot lately. Especially since she was including chocolate-based recipes in all her columns for the entire month of February in celebration of Valentine’s Day.

  But she was finding it hard to concentrate. Mostly because she was worried about Gemma. When Hayley got home from Bessie’s house, Gemma was already barricaded in her room and didn’t want to eat any supper. Hayley tried to get her to talk about what was wrong, but Gemma once again refused.

  Hayley set her laptop down on the comforter of her bed and leaned back against the pillows she had propped up against the headboard.

  She sighed.

  What was she going to write about?

  She checked the digital clock on the DVR, which rested underneath her tiny television on the dresser. Almost midnight.

  She thought about knocking lightly on Gemma’s door to see if she was still awake and trying to talk to her again.

  Perhaps the third time would be the charm.

  But she wasn’t going to hold her breath.

  Hayley crawled out of bed and pulled up her knotted gray sweatpants, which were threatening to slide off her waist. At least they weren’t too tight. Worrying about her daughter’s sullen mood had caused her to drop a few pounds.

  Every crisis had a silver lining.

  She walked out into the second-floor hallway and noticed through the crack under Gemma’s bedroom door that the lights in her room were off. She decided against waking her. Dustin’s room was dark as well. It was very unusual for her kids to be asleep before midnight. They would always make a big production out of finishing their homework and going to sleep on a school night, but inevitably it was all just a show for their mother to keep her happy. Instead, they would hide under the bedcovers, playing a handheld video game or texting their friends.

  Hayley turned to go back in her room, when she heard a strange sound coming from downstairs.

  It was a hacking cough.

  And wheezing.

  Followed by faint whimpering.

  Leroy.

  Hayley bounded for the stairs. She thought it was odd that Leroy hadn’t followed her up to her room earlier when she went to write her column. He never liked having her out of his sight when she was home.

  When she hit the first-floor landing and turned the corner toward the kitchen, the lights were off and it was pitch-dark. She stepped on a bone she had picked up for Leroy and a sharp pain shot through the sole of her foot. She yelped and cursed to herself as she felt the side of the wall for a light switch in the kitchen.

  There was a continuous violent heaving now. When her fingers finally found the switch and she bathed the kitchen in bright light, Hayley gasped.

  Leroy was crouched down, throwing up all over the kitchen floor. Her eyes went straight to the ripped and crumpled yellow cellophane that Bessie had used to wrap her homemade truffles. It was lying next to her little dog’s spasming body.

  The box had been torn open and what few chocolates were left were scattered about the floor.

  Oh, my God.

  Leroy had eaten almost all of them.

  And everyone knows chocolate can be severely toxic to a dog.

  Hayley raced to the poor little guy and instinctively tried to pick him up, but he backed away. His tiny body was shaking, and then he threw up some more brown muddy chunks and liquid.

  She couldn’t understand it. She had carefully placed the box on the kitchen counter, well out of Leroy’s reach.

  That’s when she noticed Blueberry.

  He was sitting calmly on the counter; his tail was curled underneath his massive body.

  A relaxed, almost serene look was on his face.

  She instantly knew what had happened.

  Blueberry tore the cellophane off the box with his claws and knocked it to the floor, where a curious Leroy was waiting to explore what was inside. And given the opportunity, Leroy would eat just about anything he could get his paws on.

  What disturbed Hayley most was the barely perceptible smile on Blueberry’s face. It was like he was enjoying the commotion he caused.

  By now, both of Hayley’s kids had heard all the noise downstairs and were in the kitchen with their mother assessing the situation.

  They all instantly came to the same conclusion.

  “Blueberry is trying to murder Leroy!” Dustin yelled.

  Gemma dropped to her knees and began frantically petting Leroy’s back. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Is he going to die, Mom?”

  Hayley shook her head. “No!”

  She was praying she was going to be right.

  There was a lull in Leroy’s wheezing and heaving, so Hayley scooped him up in her arms and raced for the door leading out to her driveway.

  “Gemma, come with me. I need you to drive for me while I hold Leroy. Dustin, call Dr. Winston and tell him we’re on our way over to his office and it’s an emergency. After that, stay here and look after Blueberry.”

  “I’m not getting near that thing. He’s like the feline version of Jeffrey Dahmer!”

  “Just do it!” she barked as she was halfway out the door, with Gemma on her heels, the car keys jangling in her hand.

  Hayley knew time was of the essence.

  And she kept telling herself Leroy would make it through this.

  They all would.

  Chapter 7

  Hayley and Gemma burst through the door of Dr. Winston’s veterinary clinic. Leroy was shaking as Hayley clutched him against her bosom, rubbing his fur to keep him warm. She was shivering herself, since she had left the house in a panic and forgot to bring her coat. Hayley was now in a wrinkled green t-shirt and sweatpants. Gemma raced ahead of her and began pounding her fist on the reception desk.

  “Help! We need help out here!”

  Within seconds a pretty young girl, not that many years older than Gemma, ran out from the back. She was wearing pink scrubs and white bunny slippers. She introduced herself as the doctor’s assistant.

  Mary.

  Or Marnie.

  Hayley wasn’t really listening. She was too worried about Leroy.

  The assistant gently took Leroy from Hayley, requested that they take a seat in the waiting room, and then whisked the ailing Shih Tzu into the back, leaving a distraught Hayley and a teary-eyed Gemma.

  They plopped down next to each other on a hard couch and just stared into space. They didn’t talk for what seemed like hours.

  Hayley kept telling herself that Dr. Winston was the best animal doctor in New England. He had been the town’s vet since Hayley was in middle school. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of pets she had raised over the years whom he had treated.

  Dr. Winston would know what to do.

  Leroy would be back to his old self in no time.

  She could not even fathom any alternative scenario. Leroy was her best hope of surviving empty-nest syndrome after the kids left for college. She knew that when that day came, she would be completely alone for the first time in her entire life. Hayley always imagined Leroy would be her closest companion at home, and would get her through the inevitable loneliness that was sure to crop up from time to time.

  But he ate almost an entire box of chocolates.

  That much chocolate could kill a dog.

  She read
it somewhere.

  Hayley tried to shake the unpleasant thoughts out of her head.

  She was not going to allow her mind to go there.

  Finally the assistant came shuffling out again.

  Hayley couldn’t take her eyes off the girl’s adorable furry bunny slippers. The eyes were tiny bells that made a jangling sound as she walked.

  Too cute.

  “Mary, how’s Leroy?” Hayley asked, jumping to her feet.

  Gemma quickly followed suit.

  “I don’t know. The doctor didn’t tell me. But he’s ready to see you now,” she said.

  Hayley’s heart skipped a beat. She was desperate for some kind of reassurance and this girl wasn’t giving her any.

  “And my name’s Marla,” she added, holding the door open for Hayley. “Marla Heasley.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m usually good with names. I’m just a little upset and distracted right now. I’m sure you understand.”

  Marla didn’t say a word.

  Apparently, she didn’t understand.

  But Hayley was in no condition to worry about the feelings of Dr. Winston’s new assistant. She blew past her toward the doctor’s office. Gemma grabbed some facial tissues off the receptionist’s desk and blew her nose loudly as she followed her mother.

  The door to Dr. Winston’s office was open, so Hayley barged right in to learn Leroy’s prognosis.

  She stopped dead in her tracks so fast, Gemma bumped into her from behind.

  Dr. Winston wasn’t sitting behind his desk.

  He wasn’t there at all.

  Instead, she found a disheveled man in his midthirties, with mussed hair and thick glasses. He was wearing a stained white lab coat over plaid men’s pajamas. His bare feet were up on the desk as he perused a file. A pair of gray flip-flops were lying on the floor next to the desk, where he had dropped them.

  “Who are you?” Hayley found herself saying.

  He quickly put his feet down and cleared his throat, trying to act as professional as possible. “Sorry. I’m Dr. Palmer.”

  He reached a hand across the desk to shake hers.

  Hayley took it limply, uninterested in pleasantries. “How’s Leroy?”

  “One sick dog, I’m afraid. But he’ll be fine.”

  Hayley exhaled a deep breath; a wave of relief spread through her entire body as she fell down into a chair across from Dr. Palmer. Gemma finally stopped crying and sat quietly down in a chair next to her mother.

  “As you know, chocolate contains theobromine, a stimulant that can sometimes affect the central nervous system of a canine. Leroy ate enough to poison a much larger dog, so the situation was quite serious. Fortunately, I treated him with activated charcoal, which slows down the absorption, and now I am administering an intravenous fluid therapy to flush out the remaining toxins. He’s responding, but I’d like to keep him overnight under observation.”

  “So he’s going to make it?” Hayley said, gripping the edge of the desk.

  Dr. Palmer nodded. “No reason he won’t make a full recovery. Brave little guy. Never complained once.”

  Gemma smiled for the first time in a month and grabbed her mother’s hand. “Oh, thank God!”

  Hayley smiled back at her.

  Finally a nice mother-daughter moment.

  But then Gemma quickly realized she was supposed to be depressed and snatched her hand away from her mother and went back to moping.

  The awkward moment was not lost on Dr. Palmer. However, he chose to ignore it. “Just promise me you’ll keep anything containing chocolate out of Leroy’s reach from here on in.”

  Hayley wanted to explain that she was not an irresponsible pet owner. It was a homicidal, heartless cat she had recently taken in who was responsible for Leroy’s near-death experience. It seemed too silly to bring that up, so she kept it to herself.

  She decided to change the subject. “Are you filling in for Dr. Winston while he’s on vacation?”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear?” Dr. Palmer asked, setting Leroy’s file down on the desk. “Dr. Winston retired. Moved to Florida with his wife to be closer to the grandkids. I took over his practice just this past week.”

  “So you’re here permanently?”

  “Guess you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning.

  He had a nice smile.

  And soulful green eyes.

  Hayley caught herself staring at him.

  “Sorry for my appearance. I was already sleeping when your son called my emergency hotline. Or as I like to call it, the Batphone. It sounded quite serious, so I didn’t bother getting dressed. I just texted my assistant to meet me here and raced on over. I bought a house just a few doors down from the clinic.”

  Hayley nodded. He had such a nice complexion. Maybe he was older, in his forties even, and just looked like he was in his thirties. Though she couldn’t tell from the baggy pajamas he was wearing, she was betting there was a nice physique underneath.

  Gemma started to stand up. “Well, thank you for everything, Dr. Palmer.”

  “Are you from around here?” Hayley asked, not making a move to get up.

  “Grew up in Portland. But then I moved to California to go to Stanford.”

  Stanford.

  Smart too.

  “Then UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine before starting a practice in LA. But honestly, after ten years, I missed the seasons, the fall foliage, everything I loved about growing up in New England. So I had been looking for an excuse to come back, and that’s when I heard about Dr. Winston’s plan to retire.”

  “Well, you’re going to love living in Bar Harbor,” Hayley said, giggling.

  Giggle? Really? Did I actually just giggle?

  “I used to come here a lot as a kid. Not a lot of places have this kind of charm. It’s a really special place. I’m just happy to be back in Maine. I hear you spend half your life trying to get out of the state and the second half of your life trying to get back.”

  He winked at Hayley.

  At least she hoped he was winking and didn’t have something in his eye.

  Damn, this guy is attractive.

  Gemma moved to the door of the office. “We’ll come by tomorrow to pick up Leroy.”

  Hayley still didn’t make a move to leave. “If you have any questions about the town, don’t hesitate to call me. I work at the Island Times.”

  “Oh, I know who you are. First thing I did when I arrived in town was to buy the paper and I became an instant fan of your column.”

  “You like to cook?”

  “I can’t boil water. But it sure is refreshing reading someone who is as passionate about food as I am.”

  Oh, this one is good.

  What a smooth talker.

  Hayley found herself giggling again. Like a schoolgirl.

  She threw a hand over her mouth to stop herself.

  What an utterly humiliating moment.

  But Dr. Palmer didn’t seem to mind at all.

  Gemma, however, did mind. In a big way.

  “Mom, can we go now?” she whined.

  Hayley finally stood up and thanked Dr. Palmer again. “I mean it. If you have any questions—”

  “I know where to find you,” he said, winking again.

  No. He definitely didn’t have anything stuck in his eye. He was absolutely, without question, winking at her and it was making her heart flutter.

  She was on cloud nine as she walked outside to the car.

  Luckily, Gemma was with her to slap her back to reality.

  “Well, that was totally embarrassing,” Gemma said.

  “Gemma, just because you’re in a foul mood, you don’t have to take it out on me, okay?”

  “Fine. But before you get all worked up about this guy, there’s something you should know. . . .”

  “I’m not worked up. I don’t get worked up.”

  “He’s married.”

  “What?”

  “While you were staring at him with those googly eyes,
I was looking at the framed photo on his desk of himself with his wife and kids.”

  “Oh. Seriously?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Well, thanks for noticing. You saved me from making a fool of myself.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Gemma tossed the car keys to her mother, got in the passenger side, and slammed the door shut.

  Hayley took one last look at the vet clinic.

  She could see Dr. Palmer through the window into the reception area of the clinic. He looked adorable in his plaid pajamas and was scribbling something on a notepad.

  That was a close one. A married guy?

  Forget it. Best just to stick to her current plan of not dating, or, better yet, not even getting within close proximity of any man she found remotely interesting.

  It was too bad that place where Wonder Woman grew up, Paradise Island, where no men were allowed among the Amazons, wasn’t taking reservations.

  Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell

  Recently our beloved family dog, Leroy, scared us all when he devoured something he wasn’t supposed to eat, and we had to rush him to the vet. We were all worried sick, since he is such an important part of our family. But I am pleased to report the little bugger is doing just fine. When I finally got home from that horrifying ordeal and settled in for the night, my mind wandered back to another time some years back when I suffered another big scare.

  Dustin was around seven years old and in second grade. As usual we were running late for school and work. On the drive to Emerson Conners Middle School, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to pack Dustin a lunch. So I told him to get into my purse, which was on the seat beside him in the backseat of the car, and take out a five-dollar bill so he could buy himself a hot lunch in the cafeteria. He was thrilled because with five bucks he could afford to purchase his favorite chicken fingers. Salads have never been too popular in our family.

  Later, around lunchtime, my cell phone rang while I was at the office. It was the school nurse and she was frantic. She told me she had six very nauseous little boys in her office, including my own son, Dustin, and that I needed to come pick him up as soon as possible.