Free Death of a Bacon Heiress by Lee Hollis Page B

with a little pancake batter, then grilled to perfection before being dipped in a bowl of warmed real maple syrup?
    Am I right, people?
    One time I tried to impress the Ladies Auxiliary by serving them at their 2010 Mount Desert Island Hospital breakfast benefit, but things didn’t exactly go according to plan. I cringe at the memory.
    I was home relaxing one evening after work with a nerve-calming orange-juice-cranberry vodka cocktail when my phone rang. It was the Ladies Auxiliary president, Mrs. Cunningham, calling to ask if I would be so kind to contribute a dish to their fund-raiser breakfast the following Saturday. Of course I was flattered and immediately accepted, and perhaps fueled by the strong cocktail in my hand, heard myself volunteering to make my grandmother’s Bacon Strip Pancakes for everyone who attended if I could have access to the hospital’s kitchen. Mrs. Cunningham was thrilled. She offered to provide all the bacon, which was a relief since the price of bacon had recently spiked at the Shop ’n Save.
    Ever the organized chef, I prepared my batter the night before and poured it into a large container. With a black marker I wrote my name on the side and also labeled it “pancake batter” and then drove it over to the hospital kitchen where I placed it in the fridge overnight. I would return in the morning at 6:00 AM to get a head start frying the bacon before the breakfast at 8:00 AM .
    The perfect plan. If I had remembered to set my alarm clock when I went to bed that night. By the time I opened one eye to see the clock, it was already past 7:00 AM ! I jumped out of bed and ran around the bedroom, grabbing clothes, slapping on makeup, tying my hair in a ponytail, grabbing my keys, and hightailing it to the car.
    I arrived at the hospital in record time, squealing into a free parking space, berating myself for nearly blowing my first chance to participate in one of the town’s favorite hospital fund-raisers. Racing into the kitchen out of breath, I did a quick survey. Pounds and pounds of bacon were already sizzling on the giant flattop grill manned by a few of the auxiliary women volunteers. A big sigh of relief! After a quick apology, I hurried to the refrigerator, proud of myself for having the foresight to prepare the pancake batter ahead of time. But then I swung open the refrigerator door and just stared at the empty shelf. The batter wasn’t there. I spun around and spotted the marked container sitting on the counter. Another sigh of relief! But when I scurried over to pick it up, I realized the container was empty!
    At that moment, Rosie, the weekend breakfast cook, sailed through the door into the kitchen.
    â€œRosie!” I shrieked, probably a tad too loud as the poor woman nearly jumped out of her skin. I asked about the pancake batter, and with a big grin, Rosie thanked me profusely. She saw my name marked on the side of the container, so she knew who was responsible for dropping off such a delicious treat for the children in the sick ward, at least those who didn’t have special dietary needs. The kids loved them and she made sure they all knew I was the one who had so generously donated the batter.
    My heart sank. I covered, of course, by plastering a big smile on my face and telling Rosie it was my pleasure. Anything to brighten the day of those sick kids!
    Well, I may have been Saint Hayley in the eyes of Rosie and the kids, but that certainly wasn’t going to help me with the Ladies Auxiliary. I asked the volunteers to start loading the cooked bacon in the waiting chaffing dishes as I ran to the pantry and scanned the shelves. And then I saw my salvation! A whole shelf completely stocked with those little boxes of prepackaged breakfast cereals! I snatched as many as I could and dumped them into a wheeling cart, and then burst through the swinging doors, pushing the cart, and started hurling the boxes of cereal in the air to the startled people