* * *
"Boy, are you tanned!" I complimented Cathy, over breakfast. "It's only April and you're mahogany."
"Hanging out at the tanning studios?" Tom asked. "Man, that's an expensive habit. How much do those sessions cost?"
"Well, uh, I haven't been going to the studios. I bought my own tanning machine," an embarrassed Cathy replied.
"Must be nice! I slave all day at the plant to make ends meet and you're buying your own electric beach! If you'd just work on your personality a bit, I'd ask you to marry me."
"What if one of the girls you asked last night at the bar says yes? Bigamy is illegal, you know, Tom," Cathy pointed out.
"Oh, Tom," I groaned, "you weren't using that stale line again? What happened to, 'Excuse me, miss, can I buy you a Porsche?'"
"Gimme a break, you two. To meet women, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Besides, that Porsche line has served me pretty well over the years."
"Well, I think it's running out of gas," Cathy teased.
"Did you really buy a tanning machine, Sis?"
"Yeah. I had some extra money, and I love being dark. Besides it didn't cost all that much."
"I'll bet," I said sarcastically. "What do you do with all your money? You must own half of Port Huron by now."
"Hardly. With my car payments, mortgage payments, condo fees, credit cards, and daily living expenses, there's hardly anything left."
"Tough life, baby," Tom sighed. "You really should apply for some sort of government aid. SISIM or some-