"They're just being tourists. You probably seem weird when in foreign places too, ya know."
Her brother's face bunched into the little half-frown half-scowl he made when he knew she was right but was too stubborn to admit it.
"I've never been unable to operate the gas pump or pay for said gas, and then kept the policeman who helped me in a conversational hostage for half an hour about electrical outlets."
"Oh, stop whining, you big baby! He was a nice. They all had British accents. Think about it: they're on vacation in the US, where standards for stuff like that - outlets, gas pumps, DVDs, you name it - are different, not to mention the pound or euro conversion to our dollars, and us being basically the only country to not use the metric system."
Beth rolled her eyes at her brother's slowly receding frown, still not satisfied.
"Besides, his kids were embarrassed. He's not suspicious: he's a dork."
Chance paused for a moment, and she knew it was about to get bad.
"And just how did you get so good at reading people, little miss Sherlock?"
"Don't you dare bring my shows into this! I'm still emotionally damaged from the season finale! And don't try to weasel out of saying I'm right by changing the subject."
Chance sighed, then mumbled something as he turned to leave the room.
"What was that, big brother?"
"Yerright"
"Come again?"
"You're right. There." He was awfully close to pouting, and Beth immediately regretted not having this on film for Allie... or blackmail purposes. She suddenly smiled brightly at him, and his eyes narrowed in a mock Eastwod style. Unfortunately, their shoot out was interrupted by the doorbell, and their mother's voice calling from the living room.
"Beth, your friends are here!" Elsa Hamlin's voice shifted to a more appropriate sound level, but was still audible from Beth's distance.
"My, that's a lot of red hair! Come on in, all of you. And such handsome little accents! Make yourselves at home."
Beth grinned at her brother. "I'm glad you agree. I invited them - the Weasleys - over for dinner."
She didn't wait for his reply as she made a mad dash for the living room. "I may have told Arthur you'd let him use a siren of some sort," she called over her shoulder with a laugh.