Last Chance Llama Ranch Read Online Free Page B

presence; I’m damn well going to give Sasquatch a squeeze for her big day!”
    Merry winced. He’d probably still be calling her Sasquatch when he was a white-haired, white-toothed model for Cialis, and she was a tooth less , towering old crone. She grabbed her cell phone and, holding it out of sight of the webcam, quickly thumbed a text message. Sasquatch, eh? Thought we’d decided to give that one a rest.
    Her phone, which she had on mute, buzzed almost immediately.
    Seriously, Sis, have you looked at your hair today?
    Merry typed a tongue-stickie-outtie emoji, and on Skype, Marcus responded by giving her a real, if silent, raspberry from over their parents’ heads.
    “Yes, darling boy, we know how much you adore your sister,” Gwendolyn said, oblivious to her children’s covert bickering. As if it could not help itself, one birdlike hand rose to smooth the cowlick that ruffled the otherwise perfect coif of her son’s silky locks. “We’re all eager to find out how you’ve been getting on, Meredith.”
    Marcus shrugged away from her fussing, and Merry saw him thumbing the screen of his phone. By which she means, “What shameful circumstances you’ve gotten yourself into,” Marcus texted, as effortless with his smartphone as he was strutting his stuff down the catwalk during fashion week. *Meredith.*
    Gwendolyn always called her Meredith. Never mind that it wasn’t her name . Merry’s mother refused to acknowledge her mistake in allowing the then-eight-year-old Marcus to name their infant daughter after his favorite fictional character—Tolkien’s Meriadoc Brandybuck. “We were in a phase, darling,” Gwendolyn had said once Merry was old enough to ask why she’d been burdened with such an unusual appellation. “And I was never one for fiction—I assumed if our Marcus chose it, it must be a respectable name. Anyway, all the parenting books were saying it was a great way to help siblings bond.”
    Perhaps it was true. Despite her near-constant aggravation with her brother, Merry loved Marcus fiercely. He was a scamp, a scoundrel, and a scalawag, but he was loyal to a fault—and smart too, though he did a pretty good impression of a dumbass when he wanted to. And after all, he was the only other person who knew what it was like to grow up with Pierce and Gwendolyn Manning for parents.
    “I’m sure Merry is getting on just fine,” Pierce said, patting his wife on one slender shoulder before peering into the camera to wink at his daughter. “Working hard at the new job, eh? Making us proud, I’m sure.” His expression said he wasn’t so sure, but at least he was sticking up for her, Merry thought. Her stomach suddenly felt heavier than the lunch-plate-sized turtle on it could account for. Because it was clear her mother wasn’t on the same page with Pierce.
    Gwendolyn faced her husband, turning her cameo-perfect profile to the camera. “Is that so?” Her voice, though still measured, could have etched glass. “Then why was she cavorting naked in Turkey only yesterday? And drunk in Denmark the week before that?” She faced the webcam again, glaring just left of dead-on into Merry’s flinching eyes. Now we get to the real reason Mother called , Merry thought, letting her weight sink deeper into her nest of pillows. Let the guilt trip commence in five…four…three…
    “You might have taken that job with ESPN, Meredith,” said Gwendolyn. “They would have been happy to have you. There’s no shame in being a sports commentator. Many athletes join the networks after they retire…”
    I didn’t retire. I did a Wile E. Coyote into a conifer , Merry thought.
    “Of all the opportunities afforded to you, Meredith, I’ll never understand why you chose to sign up with that website. If not the networks, you should have taken up your rightful place at the foundation as your grandmother wished,” she continued. “Instead, you spend your days capering around like a monkey. It’s undignified, and