Play It Again, Spam Read Online Free Page B

ex-husband, dear. Well, in a sense he was my husband - I mean, we were never legally
    married, but - " I caught myself. "What are we going to do about all this luggage?"
    She dashed off her signature. "Send it up with the bellhop."
    "I am the bellhop," I wailed.
    "Oh, that's most unfortunate. Well, I suppose you could leave it there, until John feels better. Except for this" - she pointed to
    a large suitcase - "and that." She pointed to a matching train case. "And of course, these three."
    "Well, I'll take the big one up for you," I said generously. "I'm sure you can manage the others in several trips."
    She shook her tiny head. "I really am sorry, Miss Yoder, but I can't help you. It's my fingers, you see. I can't risk injuring them.
    You understand, don't you?"
    I shook my massive head and muttered something unintelligible.
    "Thanks, that's so kind of you," she chirped and flew up the impossibly steep stairs in a manner quite unbefitting a woman of
    her years.
    I was returning from my last luggage run, panting, when the second couple finally came through the door. Since I'd taken my
    time lugging those genuine, full-cowhide suitcases upstairs, I couldn't imagine what had been keeping this duo in the parking lot.
    As soon as the missus opened her mug I knew.
    "So, what's the big deal? Couples fight all the time." I took one look at the woman and hated her instantly. I know, that's not
    the Christian thing to do, but mine was a visceral reaction. The good Lord understands,l'm sure. Her frizzy blonde hair, her long
    pointed nose, her blue-gray eyes and lanky frame, added up to a sum that made me shiver with disgust. My sister Susannah feels
    the same way about lima beans.
    The man, a veritable giant, winced. "Please, Sandy, not in front of her."
    "Why not? She ain't going to hear nothing she ain't heard before."
    I stiffened, forcing myself to think of greenbacks. Alas, it was hard to concentrate. The truth be known, I have plenty of money
    squirreled away, perhaps enough to last me the rest of my life. What I lacked was a sense of purpose, and since it was clear I was
    never going to have any grandbabies of my own to hold, reopening my business had seemed the right way to go. Only now I
    wasn't so sure.
    "Welcome to the PennDutch Inn," I said in a fake German accent. It is what I do for all my guests, even the obnoxious ones.
    "Howdy, Ma'am," the man said. He was too embarrassed to even make eye contact. "Name's Bob Hart. We spoke on the
    phone."
    "Ah, yes. Bob and Sandy from Tulsa. Did you have a nice trip?"
    "Ha!" she barked. "That's a laugh! You ever eat sausage cooked in a microwave?"
    "Excuse me?"
    "Airplane food is the pits, and them ain't mountains," she said, waving her beak over her shoulder.
    I smiled a fake American smile. "Yes, they are, dear. They're the Allegheny Mountains."
    "That may be their name, but they ain't mountains. I know, cause I seen the real things in Colorado."
    I prayed for a Christian tongue, despite my heathen heart. "So, you must be anxious to check in after a long trip like that." I
    "Yes, ma' am," Bob said quickly.
    "Maybe you are," she sniffed, "but I ain't so sure."
    "Sandy, please."
    "He said we were gong to an Ayemish bed and breakfast. Only this don't look no different than a regular bed and breakfast."
    She thrust her needle nose over the counter, parking it inches from my face. "You Ayemish?"
    "The word is 'Amish,' dear. And no, I'm not. I'm Mennonite. But this is a bed and breakfast."
    Frizzy withdrew her proboscis and turned to her husband. "You see, she ain't even Ayemish. She's just a Manynite."
    "My cook's Amish. She wears a bonnet and everything."
    Sandy rolled her eyes. "Big deal. They have one of those at the Dutch Kettle restaurant back home. I was expecting to stay
    with a real Ayemish family - take buggy rides and everything. I sure don't want to spend good money to stay in a dump."
    I gasped. "Okay, so maybe that's a strong word, but this ain't the Taj Mahal."
    "Thank