Play It Again, Spam by Tamar Myers Read Free Book Online

a pig's eye," I said kindly.
    She glanced down and studied Susannah's pumpkin. "Okay, so I'm twenty-four. But I'm mature for my age, and Frank has
    always been young at heart."
    "Is he rich?"
    Her head jerked up. "I beg your pardon?"
    "Of course he is. What a silly question for me to ask."
    "Miss Yoder - "
    I held up a quieting hand. "I have yet to see a girl your age attached to a poor man in his dotage."
    She gasped. "Frank is hardly in his dotage!"
    "Don't feel embarrassed, dear, I've seen it a hundred times. It happens the other way around, too. You may not read about it
    much in the papers, but take it from me, Cher has had her share of boy-toys." I smiled brightly and waved at the jumble of
    suitcases. "Are all these yours?"
    "Oh, yes. Well, there's a few more small things in the car. But we won't need them until later."
    I scanned the small parking lot. There was my red BMW, and three other cars. Since neither Susannah nor Freni drives a
    car, that left one vehicle unaccounted for- presuming the couple hadn't been so foolish as to hire a cab to bring them out from
    Pittsburgh.
    "Where is your car, dear?"
    She colored. "Uh - er - we forgot something. Frank had to run back into town."
    "To a pharmacy?"
    Her color deepened.
    "Just remember, you break it, you pay for it, dear. "I’ve had two bedsteads broken by amorous couples, and one downed
    chandelier.
    She studied the pumpkin again. "Well, come on in, dear," I said. "If we stand out here any longer you'll turn twenty-five," I
    chuckled pleasantly.
    "Is there a bellhop?" she asked tentatively.
    While I might be willing to schlep a few bags up my impossibly steep stairs, I was not about to move a mountain of baggage -
    no, make that a mountain range of luggage. It may have been just the shadow of the passing cloud, but I'm positive I saw a
    Sherpa wearing an oxygen tank disappear over the rim of one of the higher piles. I mean, why should I risk my back when the
    coowner of all these suitcases was younger than my hairnet?
    "You get to be the bellhop," I said cheerily, "and it will only cost you fifty dollars extra."
    The hazel eyes blinked. "Oh, don't worry, I'm sure Daddy Warbucks will pay for everything."
    Okay, so that was mean of me. I had no reason to pick on her, other than jealousy. Would that I had married a rich man when
    I was young and of breeding age!
    Just so you know, I paid mightily for my callousness. The nicks and scratches on my floor, doors, and walls cost hundreds of
    dollars to repair. A troop of chimpanzees could have done a better job of schlepping bags upstairs, and at least they wouldn't have
    gotten lipstick on the stairs carpet.

    "Ach!" Freni clapped her hands together. "This SPAM® Lite luncheon meat is wonderful! Are you sure the English invented
    it?"
    To Freni, anyone not currently of the faith - and sometimes, depending on. her mood, that includes me - is "English." It
    doesn't matter if you were born in an igloo, or happen to be a tribal chieftain in Botswana. If you're not a practicing Amish person,
    you're "English." I only barely qualify as "non-English" because I have four hundred years of Amish and Amish-Mennonite
    forbears, and am still a practicing Mennonite. But even in Freni's eyes, I'm definitely fancy. I drive a car, after all, use electricity,
    and once during a shameful period of rebellion wore clear lipstick.
    "Yeah, I'm sure that SPAMï® Lite is an English invention. But hey, Freni, thanks for coming in today. I really appreciate it,
    what with a full house and Susannah getting married on top of it all."
    Freni's dark eyes blinked behind her thick lenses. "Susannah is getting married?"
    "Didn't she tell you?"
    Freni shook her head. "Who to this time?"
    Despite the fact that my sister has threatened marriage on numerous occasions, she has actually been married only once.
    The man was a Presbyterian, which is just about as "fancy" and "English" as you can get around here. Predictably, the marriage
    ended in divorce - not