Calamity Jayne Rides Again by Kathleen Bacus Page B

its stiff confines and beginning to frizz around my face.
    "Why is it so hot in here?" I asked, and hurried over to the ancient but reliable window air conditioner and began flipping
     switches.
    "Uh, I tried that already, Tressa," Taylor said, annoyance evident in her tone. "I went to turn it on around noon and nothing.
     I checked the cord and it was fine. I guess it's just seen its day."
    I flipped a few more switches, pulled the cord, plugged it back in, flipped a few more switches, and then gave the unit a
     rather hard tap.
    "I think it's a DNR," Taylor said.
    "Huh?" I asked, wondering what Rick Townsend's employer had to do with a window air conditioner that probably came over on
     the Mayflower.
    "DNR. Do Not Resuscitate."
    I nodded. "Oh, yeah. Good one," I said. "Did you notify the next of kin?"
    Taylor nodded. "I called Aunt Reggie right away. She said Uncle Frank wanted to take a look at it before we called the official
     TOD."
    I gave her another "huh?" look.
    "TOD. Time of Death."
    I nodded. Taylor was getting scary. Maybe it was all those behavioral psych classes. Or the liberal-leaning institution of
     higher learning she was attending.
    "I don't suppose you've been very busy then," I said, grabbing a napkin from the nearest table and mopping my face.
    Taylor shook her head. "That door opened over a hundred times, but once the customers stepped inside and felt the heat, they
     turned around and walked out. I celebrated every time the door opened; it was the only ventilation I had. I was afraid to
     open the coolers out front for fear the ice cream would begin to melt, but I did go stand in the freezer a couple of times
     just to cool off. When is Uncle Frank going to come fix the AC, anyway?"
    I shrugged. "Beats me. This is all he needs right now. First Frankie pulls a Houdini, then there was the trouble here last
     night, and the meltdown at the mini-freeze this morning. Now this. When Uncle Frank sees the sales figures, or no-sales figures,
     he'll freak out! I already had to pull him off Mr. Li of Li's Asian Express earlier before things got ugly," I said, enhancing
     the elements of the story just slightly for effect. "Somehow Mr. Li got the impression that Uncle Frank was selling his fair
     business and wasn't too pleased when he found out it wasn't so."
    Taylor walked around the counter, still fanning her face. "I can't imagine what gave him such an idea. Uncle Frank loves the
     ice cream business. This fair is part of who he is."
    "Oh? Is it, Taylor?" I said, ticked that my kid sister again seemed to have all the answers—or thought she did. "Is it really?
     How do you know Uncle Frank loves the ice cream business? Did he confide in you? Spill his guts? E-mail all his secret thoughts
     to you clear over in Iowa City? How do you know Uncle Frank is happy, Taylor?"
    Taylor finally stopped fanning. "What is your problem, Tressa?" she said. "You're being very passive-aggressive here."
    I wasn't exactly sure what passive-aggressive involved, but the aggressive part was right on the money.
    "Problem?" I batted my baby blues and tossed my head, feeling new curls spring forth. "I don't have a problem. I'm just wondering
     how you know so much about a man you've only spent, oh, say three hours with in the last nine months."
    Her eyes narrowed. "Is that what this is all about? My not spending enough time at home? I'm sorry, Tressa, but college is
     hard work. It's very demanding. I can't just clock out and run home whenever I want," she said. "There are expectations. Deadlines."
    "I have deadlines, too," I said, referring to my on-again, off-again reporting job at the Grandville Gazette. I'd been let go after I'd mislabeled an obituary photo identifying the publisher's wife's dear, departed Aunt Deanie as the
     dear, departed Mr. Stubby P. Burkholder. We re-established our professional relationship during my role in the events of last
     June. I was still on probation but determined to make the job work. I'd even