Heart of Wade – Ch. 3 – Gumbo & Glory

"It's always been you, Wade. I can't picture myself being with anyone but you. Now, come here," Zoe said striding forward and straddling Wade's lap while simultaneously taking off her shirt. Wade couldn't believe his good luck. He leaned upwards to kiss her neck and -

SNAP!

Wade was forcefully jolted awake, sitting up so fast he almost hit himself on the ornate chestnut headboard of his bed.

'Damn it,' he thought, 'It was just a dream.'

A dream that was about to become a helluva good one, too. God Almighty, why did it have to end just when the good stuff -

POP!

A high-pitched squeal alerted him to what had woken him up. He looked out the window and laughed at the sight of Miss Zoe Hart. She was apparently trying to fix the fuse box with a stick. What she thought was going to happen by poking it was a mystery to him, but he was happy to continue watching her try to do something. She looked awfully cute in her little silk nightgown and robe with her hair in a messy bun. However, his good Southern breeding eventually kicked in, so he went to go rescue his damsel in distress.

Walking across the gravel expanse between himself and Zoe, he couldn't help cracking a smile at the sight of her. She was completely oblivious to him walking up next to her. All of her attention was focused on the little box hanging on the tree. She yelped one last time before sighing and closing the box's door with the stick.

"Oh, hey there, Doc," said Wade, making his entrance, "Notice how whenever I come around, there's always sparks."

She looked over at him for a total of two seconds, then turned back to the box while saying, "If you like that, wait 'till you see my taser."

Wade grinned and looked down at his feet.

"Listen, do you want me to help you fix the fuse box or not?"

She glanced at him with an incredulous look on her face.

"The fuse keeps blowing because of your new amp," she said, pointing the stick at him, "So, no. I do not want, or need, your help."

"My guess is you're overloadin' it with all your girl stuff," he said, smirking.

"Yeah, that's me," she said sarcastically, "with my girly Wifi connection and my silly cell phone that I only use to take pictures of ponies!"

He laughed and waited for her to continue speaking, because she didn't look anywhere near finished with her ranting.

"Well, apparently I have alienated most of the people in this town-," she began, but Wade interrupted her.

"More like all of 'em," he pointed out. She gave him the evil eye, then continued as if nothing had been said.

"So, the internet and my phone are my only contact with humanity," she said, turning back to the fuse box, armed with her stick. She tried once again to fix it by way of poking, but managed only to scare herself when it sparked. Wade laughed and tried to help again.

"Well, I'm gonna get a bucket of lake water, so when you catch on fire, it doesn't spread my way," he said, matter-of-factly, turned and began walking away. He hadn't gone two steps when he heard her sigh, close the fuse box, and walk away, too.


Not two hours later, there was a loud banging at his door. Pulling on a shirt to make himself decent, he dragged himself to the front of the house and saw Zoe through the screen door.

"Well, hey, Doc," he said as he opened the door, "What can I do for ya on this fine day?"

"Wade," she said, breathing like she'd just run a marathon, "I need you to take me to the Old Hooper House."

The Old Hooper House. Now, that was a name he hadn't heard in years. The House was an old abandoned miner's house in the middle of the woods outside Bluebell city limits. It was a popular hangout for kids and teenagers, so why on Earth did Zoe want to go there at 9 o' clock in the morning?

"The Old Hooper House," he said, "Why do you need me to take you there?"

"Because I don't know where it is?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm aware of that. But why do you need to go?"

"Oh. Some kid got bit by a snake there and I need to go figure out what kind of snake it is to treat the wound," she said, looking flustered, "But we need to go now, because I left through the back door. The kid's mother just thinks I'm doing research in the back room."

"Well, alright, then," he said, grabbing his keys and walking outside toward his car.

"Thanks, Wade," said Zoe, when both her and Wade were buckled in and he had started the car.

"It's no trouble, Zoe," he said, looking her in the eyes.

About 10 minutes later as they were pulling up to the house, Wade teased Zoe by saying, "First the fuse box, then you don't have a car. Admit it, Doc. You need my help."

"Technically," countered Zoe as she got out of the car, "I did not need your help. I finally get my first patient and it's a freaking snake bite. I simply needed you to take me to the snake. You are my ride, not my help. Very different."

"Okay," said Wade, arms folded across the hood of the car, "Well, you got your ride."

He stepped back and started to get into the car again, when Zoe stopped him.

"But," exclaimed Zoe. Wade looked up at her, smiling and waiting. She continued, "But there's a snake in there.."

Wade looked over at the Old Hooper House and nodded. "Probably a few," he said, looking back at Zoe, who appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Aren't you gonna come in, too?" she asked, with wide open eyes.

"No?" said Wade, shaking his head, "I'm just the driver."

Zoe looked very conflicted. On the one hand, she could keep the pride that came along with her stubbornness and go into the house alone. On the other, she could have Wade go in with her and have him handle the snake.

"Say 'please', Doc," he said, making it easy for her. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Please."

He smiled, closed the door, and together they walked up to the house, on the lookout for their snake. He hadn't been here since high school, but there were always a few snakes and other creatures to be found in here. The rickety porch steps were just as he remembered them. As a teenager, he'd always felt like he or his friends would fall through them in an instant if they stepped on the wrong spot. However, that had never happened, so the builders of the Old Hooper House were to be credited for fine craftsmanship.

Opening the door, he called, "Here, snakey, snakey, snakey," but of course, nothing answered, so he stepped inside.

"Ah...the Old Hooper House," he said, reminiscently rapping the wall with his knuckles, "I used to bring my high school girlfriends here."

"Please tell me they were still breathing at the time," said Zoe, the majority of her attention focused on looking at and around the ceiling. As if the snake they were after was going to suddenly make an airborne attack. Lord, this girl really wasn't from the South.

"There's no need to look up," he said, walking into what used to be a living room, "Poisonous ones don't climb."

She followed him into the room, both of them walking gingerly. Neither of them wanted to be the one to disturb the snake, though Zoe was noticeably more frightened.

"Well," Wade said, trying to make conversation, "Cottonmouths sometimes, but not in these parts. Usually."

Her eyes widened and she sped up to walk right behind him. He smiled and kept looking for the stupid snake.

"What do you mean 'usually'?" she asked tensely.

"Nah, well, what we're lookin' for is...a rattler...Copperhead...a real pretty, thin thing with brown blotches."

He walked into a bedroom and saw a rope sticking out from under some blankets. Ah..perfect time to mess around with Zoe. He looked intently at the rope as Zoe continued into the room.

"Oh, my God," he said, crouching down with his hand out.

"What?" asked Zoe, sounding worried. He grabbed the end of the "snake" and whipped it out toward Zoe, who screamed and fell backwards onto the bed.

"Wade!" she whined. He just continued laughing and laughing. She glared at him.

"Oh, come on. It's a rope," he defended, "Okay, you are so city."

She got up suddenly, holding her hand, with a scared look in her eye.

"Copperhead," she said, breathlessly.

"What?" he asked. Good, she knew what kind of snake they were looking for.

"Copper. Head," she said slowly, then turned back toward the bed. He looked past her and saw a huge Copperhead Rattlesnake sitting in the corner...right where Zoe had fallen.

"Wow," said Wade, "That was quick. Lucky we found it."

"Not really," said Zoe and held up her hand. Two puncture holes stood out like tiny rubies at the base of her thumb.

"Woah...," gasped Wade.

Time to get Dr. Zoe back to the practice.

As he carried her into the practice, she was still objecting.

"This is so stupid," she said, "You don't need to carry me."

"First rule of a snake bite, Doc. Can't let the victim overexert herself," he said smoothly, holding her tighter.

"What's the second rule?" she asked, "Apply pressure to side of boob? Put me down!"

He set her down in one of the lobby chairs and put his hand on his hip.

"Well, glad I could be of help," he said sarcastically and walked out the door. Jeez, Zoe, way to be ungrateful. All he wanted to do was help her. And maybe have an excuse to hold her, if only for a short while.


That afternoon, he was on his way to Lavon's house, but stopped when he saw a mangled package on Zoe's porch. Moving closer, he saw what looked to be the remnants of a vat of gumbo. What on Earth? It seemed Burt Reynolds, Lavon's alligator, had gotten to it. He picked it up and continued on his merry way.

"...I just wanna beat Brick, c'mon just let me win," he heard Zoe pleading as he opened Lavon's door and stepped inside. Ah, they were talking about Bluebell's annual Gumbo Cook-Off. From the looks of it, Zoe had been trying to cheat by having her gumbo shipped to her.

"Hey, Doc, I found this package, or what's left of it, on your stoop. Bablow," he added for effect as he set the torn apart box down on the marble counter next to Zoe.

"That's my gumbo!" gasped Zoe, picking up the pieces of cardboard, "Look at this! I'm gonna sue that stupid overnight carrier."

"Well, you might have to sue the mayor's alligator," laughed Wade, sipping on his beer, "I saw him slithering away one happy reptile."

"Burt Reynolds ate my gumbo!" exclaimed Zoe, whipping around to face Lavon, the picture of indignity. Lavon just laughed.

"You cannot blame the 'gator," he said, soothingly, "Besides, this keeps me from having to disqualify you."

"Hey, listen, my Uncle Moe's got a pretty kickass gumbo recipe, if you want my help," Wade offered.

"I don't need your help, Wade, okay? The last time I had your help, I also got this," she snapped, holding up her hand which was wrapped in a rather painful-looking bandage. Wade mentally took a step back and Lavon looked over at him, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, what are you gonna do now?" asked Lavon, looking back at Zoe.

"I have no choice," Zoe said in a defeated voice, getting up from the bar stool, "I'll have Emeral email me his recipe and I'll make my own gumbo."

"Wha-? Do you even know how to cook?" asked Lavon as Zoe walked toward the door.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" asked Zoe, her hand on the doorknob. Wade walked forward and leaned against the counter, next to Lavon.

"Uh...because we don't think you can cook?" he said and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm gonna figure it out, okay?" said Zoe, sounding very determined, "Come hell or high water, I'm gonna become a respected part of this..."

She hesitated and Lavon and Wade waited for her to continue with raised eyebrows.

"...extremely charming community," she finished. He and Lavon chuckled as she flounced outside and down the steps. Lavon looked over at Wade and asked:

"Think she'll be able to do it?"

Wade answered, "Well, come hell or high water, Miss Zoe Hart is gonna have an entry in that gumbo contest."


"So, you saw her on the street and you said what?" exclaimed Wade that afternoon at the Rammer Jammer.

"Just hey," answered Lavon dejectedly. He was sitting at the bar drinking while Shelley filled up ketchup bottles nearby.

"That was it? Just 'hey'?" asked Wade.

"Just hey. And I mighta said, uh, 'Nice to see ya'," said Lavon.

"Woah," replied Wade sarcastically. Lord, the guy was a pro football player for years, but he had the game of an eight year old. He had a crush on the new receptionist at Zoe's medical practice. Someone named Diana or Delila or something.

"I know," said Lavon, taking another gulp of his drink.

"Well, I thought you said you laid on the charm when you first saw her," said Wade, trying his best to sound hopeful. In reality, the mayor's case was as bad as Wade had ever seen.

"But that was before I knew she was into me!" said Lavon, looking at the bar thoughtfully, "I croaked! I had no idea how to even start!"

"Well, how do you normally start things?" asked Wade, "Just go back to that."

"Lavon Hayes was a pro football player," Lavon Hayes said in a 'duhh' voice, "People started things for me."

"Look, you're a little outta shape is all, champ. You need practice," said Wade.

"Practice," echoed Lavon, taking another gulp from his drink.

"Yeah! You can't go into the game all cold! Look, here, pretend I'm her. Pretend I'm...," Damn it. Wade couldn't remember the girl's name, "Wait, what's her name again?"

"Didi," sighed Lavon.

"Then, I'm Didi," said Wade, wiping out a glass.

"I wish I had my gun," said Shelley under her breath.

"D-i-D-i? Or D-double 'e', D-double 'e'? 'Cause you can spell it both ways," said Wade.

"Why is that important?" asked Lavon.

"I'm just tryin' to understand my character," said Wade, sounding just like the diva he knew most actresses to be. Lavon gave him a look like 'you crazy?".

"Alright, go ahead, I'm her," Wade said and immediately launched into his character of being a young 20-something year old, very girly girl. He looked up through his eyelashes at Lavon, waiting.

"Hey...Didi...," said Lavon, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Wade batted his eyelashes, "Well, hey there...Don't you just look fine?"

"Oh, dear God," Shelley said.

"What? Why would she say that?" asked Lavon.

"Well, I don't know! That's what girls say to me!" said Wade, trying to defend himself.

"Well, we not pretendin' like it's you! We pretendin' like it's me!" said Lavon indignantly.

"Hey, dude! I'm tryin' to help you out here."

"You really bad at this."

"Okay, you know what? Fine. I'm callin' an audible. A whole new plan. Ignore her."

"...what?"

"Freeze her out. I know for a FACT chicks dig that," said Wade, taking a sip of his beer.

"Really..," said Lavon, contemplating it.

"Okay," said Shelley, "I have to put a stop to this. Asking Wade how to woo women is like asking a hunter how to train a bear. A woman wants a romantic gesture. Do that."

With that, she picked up her ketchup bottles and walked away, leaving Lavon and Wade looking after her suspiciously. Lavon looked at Wade.

"I don't know," replied Wade, "Could be a trick."


"I did it. I saved that man's life. And Brick just took all the credit," yelled Zoe, fuming mad. She, Lavon, and Wade were standing in the kitchen. Zoe was "making" her gumbo while Lavon and Wade watched.

"Sucks. Oh, uh! That's not salt. That's cleanser," said Lavon, grabbing the jar out of Zoe's shaking hands.

"What did I do to make Brick hate me so much?" asked Zoe, sounding hurt.

"It's not you, sweetheart. It's him. He's an arrogant son of a bitch. Always has been," tried Lavon. Zoe just looked at him over the top of the pot.

"One thing I'll bet, with those little shorts o' yours on, the whole town's gonna think he's the hero by now," said Wade, leaning against the counter by the sink.

"You know what?" said Zoe, "Screw George."

"George?" asked Wade.

"I'm gonna march into that cook-off and I'm gonna tell everyone what a phony Brick Breeland is," she said, defiantly.

"No, you're not," said Lavon, trying to sound reasonable, "Now if you want people to think that you're part of this community, you're gonna go to that cook-off, put your game face on, suck it up, and mix with the people. Hm?"

Zoe was silent. Wade loved the way her lips were pouted right then. They looked like two tiny, soft pillows. He wished he could touch them, even if he couldn't kiss them, just touch them. Ugh, what was he saying? Next thing you know, he'd be spouting sonnets like Shakespeare's about his love for her. Which is stupid. Because he didn't. Love her, that is.

"Fine," Zoe said, bringing him out of his trance, "You're right, Lavon. Maybe I could still win the gumbo contest. Can you try it?"

Lavon sat up and leaned forward for the spoon Zoe was holding out. He slurped the gumbo up and contemplated it for a moment. Then he said,

"Uh...well a moral victory is also good, you know."

Wade burst out laughing and Lavon started chuckling, too.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Zoe sharply, "Do you have a garbage disposal?"

"Now, hey, don't waste perfectly good food!" said Lavon, running over to take the pot from her, then going outside to feed Burt Reynolds. "Burt Reynooolds! Breakfast Tiiiime!"


After the Gumbo Cook-Off, when Brick Breeland had won (again), Wade was wandering around, talking to some folks, when he saw Zoe looking intently into a pot of gumbo that was supposed to be hers. She spotted the mayor and started talking to him as Wade made his way over. He got there just in time to here, "Thank you! You are a good friend."

"Jeez, Lavon," said Wade, putting an arm around his friend, "Cheatin' for a girl. Where have your mayoral ethics gone?"

"Wade," sighed Zoe, "Can't you ever just let us have a nice moment?"

"Sorry," said Wade, patting Lavon on the shoulder and walking away. Lavon looked after him smiling as Zoe walked away, too.


That afternoon, Wade was playing video games in Lavon's living room while Lavon washed some dishes.

"You know what I don't understand," began Lavon, "Is how you did it."

"What?" asked Wade, pretending to be completely consumed in his game. In reality, he knew exactly what Lavon was getting at.

"You're Uncle Moe'd be proud of ya," said Lavon, pointing the dish and towel he had in his hand at Wade.

"I don't know what you been drinkin' Lavon. You're actin' crazy as all get out," said Wade, staring at the T.V. without really doing anything.

"Uh huh. I know what I know. You did Zoe a solid," said Lavon, putting the dish down on the counter. Wade put the controller down on the table. "Oh, you're a good guy," continued Lavon.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Mr. Mayor," lied Wade, complete with poker face, "But, uh, Zoe Hart doesn't need my help. You can just ask her yourself."

And just like that, Wade left the building. The truth was, Wade been up all night making Uncle Moe's gumbo for Zoe, just so she could have some sort of victory. He wanted her to feel welcome in this town, to feel like she was wanted, because apparently him wanting her here wasn't enough. And, boy, did he want her. He needed her to want him, too.


And there ya go, folks! Chapter 3! Lord this was long. 3500+ words. Thank you to the following people who reviewed since my last update!

SomethingSuper1341

I hope you don't mind, but I used your review on an "advertisement" (i guess that's what it is) on Tumblr. I really liked it and it made me smile(((:

msalv

Thank you for reviewing again! I'm actually REALLY REALLY REALLY looking forward to writing the Heat Wave episode(:

Tharrow

Thank you for reviewing again! And thank you for REALLY putting thought into it! :) You made me feel better about the ending of Ch. 2 haha

PerfectlyGoodHeart

I'm an avid reader, too :) This is the first story I've written where I've gotten past Ch. 2 and still felt that drive to write more down :)

fan

I believe it was a guitar pick, but that's the great thing about stories. Interpret it your own way(:

And to everybody else who read this! THANK YOU! Please review(: It really does make my day!

I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors. I've been working on this for a few days, it's 11:30 at night, I just want to publish it. I'll go back and edit it more later ;)

J.E.D.