Wandering Whisky and Brandy Encounters

My life was deliberately isolated this summer. Being made redundant should have been a disaster, and in fact it was in many ways, but I had almost welcomed the end of the daily city rat race. Driving out of the city to the beach, I did my usual walk to re-centre at the ocean. The rental sign was sitting there almost obscured by the beach grass. If the wind hadn’t been blowing at just the right angle, and I hadn’t passed by at just the right time, I may not have seen it. It was meant to be. I called, viewed it and moved in. I had longed to spend real time on my book experimenting with my recipes, finally putting my culinary education to work. The house had a ‘to die for kitchen’ for me to hide away and work in all summer.

I was surprised by the quiet and the pitch-black nights. Being a city girl, I heard every noise. City paranoia was alive and well in me. Did I lock every door and every window? Did I need a new dead bolt? Was the alarm set? None of these features existed in my little bright yellow bungalow. It was a spot of sunshine during the day, but very isolated at night. The little house was set back from the beach with a path running through its own forest. The wind from the beach caused dancing shadows on the window. Unnerved, even with a glass of wine, I could not shake the uncomfortable feeling I had when the wind banged the old screen door or the branches whipped on the roof above the bedroom. I needed a dog.

I headed down to the local pet shelter to find a little dog to keep me company. There were no dogs that were adoptable that day, but as I was walking out the shelter a truck with strays arrived. She bounded out of the truck straight at me. The fellow was getting hold of some of the other animals. “Sorry about that, I’ll grab a proper leash for her,” the man said. I instantly knew that this dog and I were meant to be. Her soft brown eyes melted my heart and she was so affectionate. Her nose had the perfect slope coloured with a little white stripe which was set off with caramel and black fur with a beaming white chest. He came out and leashed her. “Wait, what will happen to her? Can I adopt her?” I asked. “If she’s not claimed in a week, you can adopt her.” But she’ll stay here for now.” I went back inside and filled in the paper work and waited. The phone rang exactly 8 days later. Was I still interested in the Australian Shepherd? Surprisingly, no one had picked her up. I went and got Brandy that day, promising to spay her. Little did I know how fast I actually should have done that.

On my usual walk, I strolled down the warm sand in my bare feet. “Go get it Brandy,” I shouted as I tossed yet another stick for her. This dog was energetic! I’d probably thrown it 50 times through the wind that was coming up quite forcefully today. Flip flops in my hand, I threw the last stick before we’d head back. I put my face up to the sun. Warm on my face, I could feel the light of day penetrate my crowded brain. Writing wasn’t always easy. A commotion ahead brought me out of my thoughts. I started to run towards Brandy. That other dog, what was it doing? The owner was also running towards them. “Oh my God, oh my God,” I yelled, “control your dog.” He was desperately trying to distract his dog and separate the two. He looked up cheekily and said breathlessly “There are some things we simply don’t expect or control.” He got the dogs separated but the deed was done. “Is she spayed?” he asked apprehensively. “Nope, I just got her this week. Not spayed yet,” I said in a slightly irritated tone. He put his hand out to shake my hand. “I’m Carter, sorry we met in this uh, intimate, way. I’m really sorry about my dog. Whisky’s never done that before,” he said changing his face to a more sombre expression. It didn’t matter, the cheeky smile was still in his eyes. “Looks like we may have to meet again then,” he said “with fur babies perhaps,” he winked. "Did he seriously just wink at me in this serious situation?" I thought. “Fur babies! Oh God, is it that easy, just once? How long will it take to know?” I felt like I was quizzing him. “I don’t know, but here’s my card. Let me know if we’re going to be related!” “Are you serious? I don’t know anything about dogs. You should control him.” “It's not all on Whisky,” he said “why do you have your dog out in heat?” “It's not all on Brandy either. What is heat?” He laughed, “sounds like a match made in heaven, Whisky and Brandy,” he chuckled. “I don’t know why you keep laughing, this is serious.” “Surely you see a little humour in this? Probably nothing will happen.” His height and look finally struck me. Dressed in a casual ivory sweater and cargo shorts, he had strawberry blonde hair with a freshly grown bristle on his face. He was freckled, but tanned at the same time. Mischievous blue eyes. He was getting my mind off the dogs. Wow, my luck to run into him in such a highly charged situation. I wrote my number down on the business card he handed to me. “What a way to meet,” I said trying not to sound as irritated as I felt. “I don’t know anything about puppies and can only hope that that is not the outcome, but I’ll be sure to let you know. What kind of dog is yours?” I asked. “He’s a Bernese Mountain Dog. And yours is, an Aussie?” he asked. “Yes, an Australian Shepherd, her name is Brandy.” “You mentioned that. Well then, Brandy meet Whisky!” “I own the Whisky Ginger at the market. Address on the card. Come by and see me any time. Drinks on me. It’s the least I can do if I’ve uhm, knocked you up, so to speak." He handed me another card. "Give me your number too. We’ll keep in touch.” I wrote my number down on the second business card he handed to me. “I know the Whisky Ginger. Love the brick décor,” I said. “Ok, Shannon,". he said reading the card I gave back to him, "I predict we’ll meet up again,. He flashed me a million-dollar smile and went on his way.

Almost two months had gone by and I hadn’t really thought much of the encounter with Carter. Brandy was at my feet as I was cooking and writing my notes for the book. Taking photographs of my culinary creations, I couldn’t help but include her in some of them. She had an appreciation for all of my recipes, plant based or not! I felt so much more settled at night and the cooking and writing was really taking off. I’d made the most unique desserts using the freshest ingredients and turning the healthiest foods into sinful indulgences. The photos of my culinary delights looked fantastic as I presented them on a white table cloth in front of the beautiful yellow house surrounded by the spring blossoms that one could hardly not include in this idyllic setting. Page 34. It was coming along and I was lost in the chapter about passionately cooking up your best life with food. Such a productive night. I finished up writing and instinctively rubbed Brandy’s tummy. I gasped just a little as I felt something move underneath my hand. I stood back and took a look at Brandy. She was a bit rounder, but I’d put that down to her sharing my culinary delights and I’d scolded myself for not being a better fur baby mom. I felt again. Her belly was definitely moving. Dr. Google will know what to do. She would apparently be somewhere in the last two weeks of pregnancy for me to have felt the puppies. “That guy Carter,” I thought. I had got a few messages from him but I’d been super busy and had meant to call him back. Honestly, I’d meant to. The attraction I’d had to him that day was a bit too distracting, and this summer was supposed to be about me focussing on my goals, not another dating fiasco. I looked in the mirror. At least I had shared the food so I wasn’t completely round like Brandy. My auburn, brown hair had lightened a bit in the sun as I’d taken to long daily walks on the beach. I looked tanned from the sun. I wondered if he’d even been remotely interested in me, or only interested if there were puppies. I found his card on the small table placed neatly beside the door, right where I had left it. I called. A deep yet smooth voice answered the phone “Whisky Ginger, how can we help?” I paused a little. It was the same cheeky voice I’d met at the beach. “You might want to help deliver puppies?” “Shannon, is that you? I’ve left a couple of messages. Figured she wasn’t pregnant,” he laughed. “I’ve been super busy with my book, sorry about that.” “Let’s get together then, a date of sorts, to celebrate our pending family together,” he laughed. A date, did he just say a date? “What did you have in mind?” “Pandemic and all, how about the beach for dinner? I’ll bring everything,” he said. “No, no, I’ll contribute too. I’ll bring dessert, you bring the wine, or the whisky lol.” “Dessert and whisky it is then.” “Dessert and red wine?” I asked. “Great, love reds.”

Tonight, was the night. Thinking of pairing with a red, I’d made dark chocolate avocado truffles. I just had to stick with my motto of all foods providing a healthy benefit, even dessert. The truffle balls were perfectly formed and the dark chocolate sauce left a beautiful shiny coating on them. Raspberries, next and a few mint leaves, raspberry port. It looked appealing. That was important. ‘He doesn’t know you’re a chef, Shannon. Stop worrying.” I chastised myself. It was a beautiful September fall day and the evening was supposed to hold decent temperatures. He’d texted me with details. Not too shabby! He’d figured out that I lived in the yellow house and had said he’d set up a table down the beach from the gate. Nonetheless, I had made a finger food, delicious but easy to manage outdoors. I popped one in my mouth. Wow, I’d outdone myself, but, now me. I put on my favourite linen pants with a tank top, mixing navy blue and white with a light sweater in case it got chilly. This was my dressed-up beach attire. It was as good as it was going to get from the clothes I had brought for summer. I took a good look at myself. I did look good, in fact, I looked better than I had in a long time. This beach house plan of mine to leave the rat race behind me was obviously working.

The beach was beautiful, as usual. The fresh ocean air had a very slight breeze as the sun was starting to leave the highest point in the sky. The ocean had that sparkling beautiful diamond appeal as the waves were lapping slowly. I spotted him. He was at the table with a white tablecloth and, wow, no paper plates. He had blue pale ceramic dessert plates with complimentary colourful napkins and an antique looking mason jar with a candle flame swaying softly inside. This was a man after my heart. “Hi, wow, look at this,” I said. Brandy was in tow behind me and Whisky bounded up to sniff her. “The dogs” he said “well nothing can happen now, can it!” he laughed as he motioned for me to sit. “I brought truffles, to pair with a red!” I chatted as I set everything down. “I’ve got a merlot for us, Wandering Giants. It’s apparently a favourite,” he said. Sitting down together, I started to dish out the truffles. They’re dark chocolate avocado truffles with a dash of raspberry port sauce, fresh raspberries and a twist of mint. I’m a bit of a foody.” “Love it, I am too. I’ve never tried an avocado dessert though,” he laughed a little hesitantly. “I’ve never tried a giant merlot,” I laughed as he poured me a glass of merlot and we cheered to our pending new puppy family. The conversation was easy. He had been in business about 3 years and was making a go of it. He had bought a place on the beach just down from where we were. I had wondered how he knew I was in the yellow house. It turns out that that was easy. I talked about the appeal of my little rented yellow house with the best kitchen I’d ever had the pleasure to work in. I was talking about the book as we indulged in truffles and wine and paused to watch the sun start to set. It really was the most beautiful date in so many ways. I felt like I’d known this man for longer than I had. The dogs were gently playing while we sipped on the merlot which paired with my truffles so well. We had partnered together in the most palatable way. Losing track of it all in the midst of sharing of lives and interests, time went on as I got caught in his easy laugh. Sitting in a casual polo and again, cargos, he really was the easiest person to talk to. He loved dogs and his enthusiasm for wine, food and whisky recipes made easy conversation. He was into mixology and herbs and we spoke the same language. I was so glad he loved dogs, as that had become important to me after adopting Brandy. I couldn’t imagine life without her. I noticed Brandy heading back through the gate up beside the house, but Whisky was at Carter’s side. “I guess we should talk about the puppies,” I said. I’m not sure how many she’ll have. I’ll take her to the vet next week.” “We can find loving adoptive homes for them once she has them,” he answered. I was so relieved that he didn’t say “sell them”. It always left a bad taste in my mouth. “Yes, I’d love to make sure they are well taken care of.” “Will you keep one? I asked? He laughed “I’d keep them all if it was practicable. Yes, I may keep one,” he paused “or two.”

As we both laughed about the first impressions of our challenging encounter, we started to clear up the table. The sun had set causing a soft glow on the water and turning the beach grass into swaying golden straw. I offered to put everything in my garden and invited him to my patio for another glass of wine as we were going to lose the light fairly quickly. Opening the gate for me, he carried everything we needed through the gate, as he handed me another bottle. “Ok that’s everything. We headed down the path through the little forest to the patio. Brandy didn’t come running as usual. “Hey girl, are you tired out from carrying those babies?” I called out as I approached her. As I got closer, I could see her and I let out a huge gasp. “Puppies!” I started to run. Carter followed, as did Whisky. Eight puppies lay snuggled into Brandy. “What do we do?” I shouted at Carter who'd gone to secure Whisky. “I don’t think we do anything he shouted over the yard. “Are you sure?” “No, I’m not sure. I’m googling it. “I think you should get clean towels and a laundry basket,” he panted as he popped up beside me. I went inside. “Towels, water, basket,” according to google. I headed back out onto the deck calmly so as not to startle Brandy. Carter was sitting beside her, holding a tiny puppy to his chest. “A little late I guess.” It’s okay, I think she’s done. We just need to keep them warm.” This man who I hardly knew sat on the floor of my patio petting the tiniest of puppies, and talking happily about naming her Ginger because of her markings. “I couldn’t resist to pick this one up,” he said. I got down on the floor with him. One by one, we took each puppy and helped Brandy keep them warm. Our eyes met enthusiasm as we went about sharing names for the pups and cuddling them back into their mamma. “This is amazing,” he whispered as he held my hand. The puppies were the most tiny, beautiful creatures with colours that combined the markings of both Whisky and Brandy. Turning on the dimmer patio lights, we relaxed with another glass of merlot. I guess you’re keeping Ms. Ginger then?” I asked. “It’s perfect” he chuckled “Whisky Ginger.” Gently, and as if we’d done it a million times, he turned towards me and softly kissed me. “This is the most perfect date,” he whispered. All I could muster up was “Absolutely perfect."