Tease Me by Donna Kauffman

he tossed the bag onto the passenger seat.
     Maybe he could get the kitchen at the hotel to steam them for him. Right after his
     chat with Aunt Lillian.
    Lainey almost tripped over Ida’s cane going through the back door of the café. The
     mesh bag of navel oranges wobbled precariously on top of the heavy cardboard box filled
     with dry ice and seafood that Sam had packed forher. She struggled to get through the door, barely making it to the counter.
    “Well, it’s about time,” Irma said from her perch on the stool by the swinging doors
     that led to the front of the café.
    “Now, Irma,” Ida said, her voice pinpointing her whereabouts on the metal chair by
     the back door.
    With a grunt, Lainey heaved the box onto the counter, then wiped her hair from her
     forehead as she turned around to face the twins. “Ladies,” she greeted them. “Mr.
     Max,” she added, nodding to the small dog peeking from Irma’s bag in a play for time.
     “Why aren’t you up front enjoying your coffee and pie?” As if she didn’t know. She’d
     stalled as long as she could, wasting time she didn’t have in the hopes that they’d
     have given up by now. She should have known better. Wasn’t dealing with Tucker—twice—enough
     of a trial for one day?
    She faced their determined expressions. Apparently not.
    “Any more pie, and I’ll have to go back to Bunny Macafee’s Senior Stomp aerobics class,”
     Irma groused. “Lord, I hate that woman. And someone ought to tell her it’s downright
     disgusting to see someone her age strapped into spandex.”
    “I believe you did,” Ida offered. “Right before she kicked you out of the class for
     insubordination.”
    Irma harrumphed. “Should have been a drill sergeant. I’m amazed someone hasn’t dropped
     dead in there from a heart attack.”
    “Her classes aren’t that strenuous,” Ida said.
    “I was talking about saccharine overload.” She turned to Lainey, who was struggling
     not to laugh. “Have youheard the woman? Sounds like the sugarplum fairy on helium.”
    Lainey had met Bunny. She was a casual friend of Minerva’s and a client of Lillian’s
     who occasionally dropped in at the café. And in this case Lainey agreed with Irma.
     The woman was a high-strung, Minnie Mouse sound-alike, a born-again fitness nut who
     never missed an opportunity to lecture Lainey on the evils of fat grams. She all but
     claimed Minerva was killing the population of Sunset Shores by not modifying her menu.
     Aunt Minerva had long since tuned her out, but Lainey hadn’t been in town a month
     when Bunny had swooped down on her like a vulture on fresh roadkill. Bless Minerva’s
     kind heart, but Lainey didn’t know how she put up with the woman.
    “I’ve heard her,” Lainey told Irma. “And I’m in complete agreement with you. Although
     I have to give her one thing.”
    “What?” the twins asked simultaneously.
    “She looks better in a leotard than I do.”
    Irma snorted. “That’s only because she dragged the name of Lillian’s plastic surgeon
     out of her. I’m surprised he hasn’t retired on her bills alone.”
    “Now, Irma, really,” chided Ida.
    “Well, at least Lillian admits that’s why her fanny doesn’t hang to her knees.”
    “I thought she got herself a personal trainer? That wrestler person, Sven the Avenger
     or something.”
    “Sven the Destroyer,” Irma corrected, making Lainey stifle a snort despite her irritation.
     “And even he can only halt the vagaries of time for so long, Ida.”
    “Ladies,” Lainey interjected, then immediately regrettedit when they both turned their attention back to her.
    “And speaking of Lillian,” Irma said, drilling her with a sharp gaze. “How did your
     appointment go?”
    Lainey folded her arms and leaned back against the counter. “First, tell me exactly
     why you sent me there without mentioning that the new Helga was a man.”
    To her credit Irma didn’t even blink. “Because someone had to give