I might even be able to deal with a sinful, sexy Susannah, but add to that slothfulness and slobbiness, and it’s just too much to bear. Susannah will never willingly lift a finger, unless it’s to paint another finger. So I get stuck doing ninety percent of the work around the PennDutch, Mose and Freni excluded. What little I can badger Susannah into doing, usually has to be redone by me anyway, so what’s the point? Thank the Lord that Papa and Mama, in their earthly wisdom, left the controlling interest in the farm to me. Perhaps they had been given a divine premonition of the impending Presbyterian. At any rate, if it weren’t for my tight rein on things, both of us would be out on the street, and at least one of us making her living from it.
So you can see how my blood began to boil when I saw my sister, who was just now coming home from the night before, in the sitting room, talking to a disreputable-looking character.
“Get behind me, Satan,” I said loud enough for Susannah to hear. The temptation to strangle was almost unbearable.
Susannah laughed and foolishly tried to hide a half-smoked cigarette by sticking it in her purse. “This, Billy,” she said by way of introduction, “is my older sister, Magdalena. But you can call her Mags. Everyone does.”
Although disreputable-looking, the character she’d dragged home exhibited more manners than she did. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said.
“It’s Miss Yoder,” I said pointedly.
“Billy Dee Grizzle, ma’am.”
“Mr. Grizzle,” I acknowledged his politeness. Even as I was saying his name, I knew it sounded familiar, and I knew why. William D. Grizzle was the last name still unchecked on today’s page of the register. “You’re not,” I asked sheepishly, “a friend of Susannah’s?” Perhaps I emphasized the word “friend” just a bit too much.
Billy Dee smiled broadly and displayed a set of remarkably white teeth. Remarkable in that Billy Dee looked like the kind of man who would chew tobacco. “Miss Susannah and I have just become acquainted, ma’am. She’s a very friendly young woman, but we ain’t friends yet.”
There was something about the way Billy Dee said the word “young” that made me feel flushed. It was as if Billy Dee had meant to say he couldn’t be bothered by someone as young as Susannah.
Susannah must have noticed it too. “I’ll leave you two old folks alone to chaw down on history,” she said. She might have meant to be cute, but it just sounded rude to me.
“Bye, ma’am. Nice meeting you,” said Billy Dee sincerely.
“Not so fast,” I said to Susannah. “There’s something you ought to know.”
“Mags, I only want a hot shower before I hit the hay. Can you tape-record the lecture so I can play it back later?”
I tried not to let my irritation show. “You better shower and hit the hay in my room. Room 5 has been rented.”
Susannah said a word that I refuse to repeat, and started toward the back, but I stopped her. “You need to clear your things out of Room 5 first. And give it a quick going over.” I was being kind. I should have told her to bulldoze the room and then torch it.
Susannah started to protest, but her whining was eclipsed by the sounds emanating from her purse.
“What in the world is that?" I asked.
“Oh, Shnookums,” she wailed, “Mommy is so sorry!” Apparently there wasn’t room in her pocketbook for both her still-lit cigarette and that bizarre excuse for a dog I told you about. Susannah fled in search of water, leaving a faint trail of smoke.
I smiled bravely at Billy Dee. “Good help is hard to find these days.”
He laughed, a good knee-slapping laugh. “I think I’m gonna enjoy my stay here, Miss Yoder.”
I hope I didn’t blush. “Magdalena, if you like. But let’s get down to business, shall we? First of all, vegan, lacto, or ova?”
“Carne.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Meat-eater.” He thumped his chest. “That’s me. Good old-fashioned consumer of flesh. But I see the others have all checked in.”
“The others? You know them?”
“Let’s see. A tall, skinny dude, late twenties, eyes like a deer. Nice-enough guy, though.”
“That’d be Mr. Teitlebaum.”
“Yeah, the Jew from Philadelphia. Now the other two. One’s young, kinda mousy. The other, well, how does anyone describe Big Red kindly?”
“That’s them,” I agreed enthusiastically, but I refrained from mentioning their names. I had overstepped my bounds by identifying Joel Teitlebaum. My job is to check people in and out, not to play twenty questions with my guests. “You know these people?”