Play It Again, Spam (10 page)

"Hold your horses," I hollered.

"You better hurry, Magdalena. This is important."

I unlocked the door and stared down into Freni's disapproving face. "Yes, what is it?"

"For shame, Magdalena, and in the middle of the day yet!"

"What? I was on the phone for crying out loud!"

"Ach, youthanisms," Freni muttered. "Your mama would rollover in her grave."

I sighed patiently. Mama has rolled over in her grave so many times the Bedford County Power Department has considered

replacing their generator with her coffin.

"Freni, what do you want?"

"Susannah is on the other line."

"Why didn't you say so?"

I practically leapfrogged over Freni and snatched up the receiver that was lying face-up on the lobby desk. "Susannah!"

"Well, it's about time !"

"Susannah, are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right, silly, but what about you? What took so long? Catch you on the throne, or did Freni stop along the

way to pull her hose up?"

I have exceptionally keen hearing, but even a Cabbage Patch Doll could hear the woman screaming in the background.

"Susannah, where are you?"

"I'm at The Material Girl out on Business Route 220, just past where it intersects with regular 220."

"The what?"

"It's a fabric store, silly. It's right next door to Naughty Ed's Haircuts and More. Actually, I'm at Naughty Ed's, because the

lady at The Material Girl wouldn't let me use her phone."

"Why aren't you at Walmart?" I snapped.

"Don't be such a goof-ball, Magdalena. I'm buying my wedding dress."

"Then why aren't you at The Marriage-Go-Round up by the turnpike?"

"Geez." The woman in the background stopped screaming and I could actually hear my sister's eyes roll.

Of course, how silly of me. Alas, The Marriage-Go-Round sells wedding dresses. Why settle for one of those when you can

wrap yourself like a mummy in something straight off the bolt? Well, to each her own, I guess. I was never going to convince my

baby sister that seams and hems had value, so I had best concentrate on the business at hand.

"Susannah, are you by yourself?"

"Well, I was - Ed, stop that - and I will be again, just as soon as you say yes."

"I don't have time to play games with you, dear. I have a parlor full of paranoid veterans who insist on doing just that."

"Ah, Mags, you're no fun. You know that?"

"Get to your point, dear."

"Well, it's like this, Mags. I need you to call The Material Girl and speak to a woman named Brenda. Tell her who you are and

that you'll pay for my purchase."

"Will I?"

"Come on, Mags, you're my sister. Think of this as your wedding present."

"How much cloth are we talking about here, and how much is it per yard?"

"It's silk, Mags. And it's sky blue. You'll love it, I promise."

"How much?"

"A mere fifty yards."

I gasped, and the pilot lights went out on both my hot water heater and my stove. Just ask Freni if you don't believe it.

"It's on sale, Mags. It's been marked down to $29.99 a yard."

"How much is the regular price?"

"$54.95."

"Okay," I heard myself say, "but this silk better be something special."

"Really? You'll call her? Oh, Mags, you're the very best sister a girl could have. Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

"No. Susannah - "

"Because you know I do, don't you?"

"Well, I guess so. I mean, I've never given it a lot of thought."

"Do you love me?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You're my sister."

"Then say it, Mags. Say 'I love you.' "

"I - uh - well - it's got to be as plain as the nose on my face." I mean, how much more obvious can something be?

"Say it, Mags!"

"Just say it," Naughty Eddy purred in the background.

"I love you!" I shrieked. "There! Are you happy now?"

"Oh, Mags, you're such a teddy bear, you know that?" There was the sound of muffled voices, and I waited. "Mags, dearest,

Naughty Eddy wants to speak with you."

"Me?"

"He says he saw you last week at the I.G.A. here in Bedford, and you were fondling eggplants."

"I was not!"

"Anyway, so he bought one, and now he wants to know what to do with it."

"Tell Naughty Eddy to stuff it."

Susannah giggled and said something to Naughty Eddy before speaking to me. "He wants to know where?"

"Susannah dear, I don't have time to chat about recipes.

I already said you could buy the silk. Now I have a question to ask you."

"Fire away, favorite sis."

"Did you drive to Bedford in a blue Saturn?"

"It's no big deal, Mags. I didn't steal it. That nice Dr. Burk loaned it to me. Isn't it a beaut? Say, Mags, do you think the Saturn

company could be a front for a religious cult? I mean, don't those weekend gatherings seem a bit suspicious?"

"Cult, shmult! Susannah, shame on you! How many ! times do I have to tell you not to borrow other people's cars?"

"Well, you won't let me drive your Beamer," she whined.

I thought of lecturing her on the concept of working for one's possessions, but decided to save my breath. Except for her brief

stint naming paint chip colors, Susannah has never worked a day in her life. That's exactly why my parents in their wisdom left the

farm to me. Of course there was a codicil stipulating that should the day ever come when Susannah pulled her own weight, half

the farm would revert to her. Since that is about as likely to happen as the NFL requiring its member teams to take flower

arranging, the PennDutch is mine. In the meantime I supply my slutty, slovenly, and slothful sister with three squares a day, a bed

if needed, and assorted bolts of fabric for her back. This was the first bolt of silk, however. You can count on that.

"Did you ask to borrow Dr. Burk's car?" Susannah's definition of "borrow" tends to be looser than Webster intended.

"He offered. He came storming out of the inn as mad as could be - even madder than Melvin gets when I forget to warm his

milk - "

"Skip that part!" I shouted.

"Well, and so he's heading for his car, right? And I'm about to ask him for a lift, but then suddenly he says" - she giggled -

"shall I skip that part too, Mags?"

"Shall I forget to call The Material Girl?"

"Aw, you're no fun! Well, anyway, when he was done swearing he looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time and

said, 'Here, you better take the keys. I'm likely to do something really stupid behind the wheel. So I took them."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, basically. Oh, he mentioned something about taking a walk to let off steam. At least that's what I think he said. He's

got a really weird accent, Mags. Is he from Argentina?"

"He's from Minnesota, dear, but at least now we're getting somewhere. Did you see which direction he headed?"

"Nah. I was out of there like a bat out of hell."

"Don't use the h word," I said sternly.

"Oh, Mags, you're such a prude. But hey, I came through for you, didn't I?"

"You did fine."

"Great, because I have another teensy weensy little favor to ask."

"Don't even think it, dear, because I am not going to wrap myself in a silk bandage, like I was a five-foot, ten-inch wound."

"Oh, no, Mags. It's nothing like that. Besides, you'd wouldn't look good in a free-form dress."

"Yes, she would," I heard a man's voice purr. "Tell Evil Eddy to put a lid on it, dear, and I'll choose to take that last remark of

yours as a compliment." I sighed perfunctorily. "So what's this final little favor? You want me to snap a few photos of the happy

couple?"

"Nah, that would be asking too much. We just want to know if you'd spring for our honeymoon on Aruba."

"What?" I tried choking the receiver on my phone, but the hard plastic wouldn't budge, much less give me the satisfaction of a

scream.

"It's just for five days, Mags. Pweeze. Pwetty prweeze."

"Can the baby talk, toots! You have a lot of nerve even thinking such a thought, when you didn't even invite me to your pre-

wedding party."

Susannah screamed as loud as she did the time Shnookums fell out of her bra and into a pot of warm cookie batter. "Who

told you about the party?"

"Sam Yoder, that's who. He said Melvin had been buying the store out getting ready for tomorrow's shindig."

"But it was supposed to be a surprise," she wailed.

"For who?"

"For you, you idiot!"

"What did you say?"

"Oh, Mags, you've done so much for me over the years. Since Mama and Papa died you've been like - well, a mother. And

all along I've given you nothing but grief."

"Oh, pshaw," I said, frankly rather embarrassed. "The day before I got married you were nice to me for an hour, and you were

nice again for twenty-two minutes the day Aaron left."

"You see? That's what I mean! All I do is take, take, take, and I hardly ever give, so this party was going to be my present to

you."

"It was?"

"Everyone's coming, Mags - even Freni."

"Freni doesn't know a thing about this, dear. She's as hurt as I am."

"Not anymore, Mags. I explained the whole thing, and she's coming."

"Our Freni is going to an English party?"

"She wouldn't miss it for the world, Mags. And it's not for me she's coming. She's coming for you. Everyone is going to be

there on account of you."

"Oh, my. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll come! Melvin and I were going to 'kidnap' you, which would have been a lot of fun, but maybe not so wise. Now

we don't have to."

"And lucky for you. Okay, I'll come. And you're sure the party is for me?"

"Don't be silly, Mags. Now, about Aruba - "

"In your dreams, dear," I said sweetly. I called the airlines just the same.

I had just gotten off the phone with The Material Girl when I noticed Samantha Burk standing in the lengthening shadows of

my lobby. Of course I jumped. Who knew how long the concert pianist had been skulking about; little people have an unfair

advantage in the art of espionage.

"Yes, dear, can I help you?" If my tone was not as sweet as my words, it's because the silk Susannah wanted was not on

sale. Some bumbling clerk or prank-playing child had switched the signs on her beloved bolt of blue with one of black. There was

no way my baby sister was going to marry decked out in the color of sin, even though it was eminently appropriate to her lifestyle.

So, I just paid more for a dress - to use the term loosely - than I had for my first car. Perhaps it was fortunate my sister

didn't plan to cut or stitch her swath, because I knew a good seamstress who, after the wedding, could turn those fifty yards into

five or six real dresses. Perhaps I would even make a profit - if my sister didn't spill anything, and if the mangy mutt minded his

manners.

"Miss Yoder, here are the books you wanted from Mystery Lovers Bookshop."

"Thank you, dear. How much do I owe you?"

"Consider them a gift. I mean, sort of a thank-you for driving me around before."

"Well, that's very nice of you, dear. Just don't expect me to come down on my rates."

She smiled weakly. "Miss Yoder, have you heard anything about John?"

"Well, actually I have. Your husband didn't drive away in a fit of anger - "

"But the car! It's gone, and I heard it tear out of here, tires squealing and everything."

"That was my sister Susannah off on a shopping spree. Apparently your husband loaned her the car."

Her small brow puckered. "Are you sure? I mean, John's not in the habit of lending anything to anyone."

"I'm positive. Susannah might lie like a politician, but not when she's about to ask for a favor. And she just asked for a doozy.

No, it seems your husband decided to cool off by taking a walk."

"A walk? John hates being outside."