Chapter Seven
When Myrtle opened her door the next morning to get the paper, she was horrified to see a grinning Erma on her doorstep. “I was just about to knock!” she beamed, breathing noxious fumes into Myrtle’s too-close face.
“Really?” asked Myrtle coldly. “Since I’m still just waking up, Erma, so maybe another . . . . ”
“We’ll have a nice cup of coffee,” said Erma, already striding into Myrtle’s house.
“I don’t drink it.”
“Sure you do! I’ve seen you drink coffee dozens of times.”
“I don’t anymore, though. My doctor recommended I stop.” For some reason, Myrtle thought grimly, being around Erma always made her start lying through her teeth.
Erma stuck her head in Myrtle’s fridge. “Okay. I’m easy. Here are two Cokes, so let’s stick with that then.” She popped them open and put t
