Page 112 of Hello, Summer
“Agreed,” Conley said. “I just thought it was interesting.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Hey, uh, speaking of my old boss, Sistrunk called me this morning. He wants me to freelance a piece on the Robinette thing for this Sunday’sAJC.”
Grayson’s smile faded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll file my stories for theBeaconfirst. He doesn’t need my piece until Thursday afternoon.”
“I guess that’s okay,” Grayson said.
“There’s more. While I was on the line with Sistrunk, I got a call from the NBC bureau chief in Atlanta. We met briefly years ago at an Atlanta Press Club thing. Anyway, Selena saw my byline on the version of the story that went out on AP, and now they want me to string for them on this story.”
“You’re gonna be on television?”
Conley laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not gunning to be the next Anderson Cooper. What they want is somebody local with a handle on the Robinette story that can consult. Strictly off-camera. And it doesn’t hurt that I’ve got that video of the car fire. They want an exclusive on that.”
“What’s that mean for theBeacon?” Grayson scowled. “You’ve got a hot story, so now you’re just gonna walk away because Hollywood is calling?”
“I just told you, it’s not Hollywood, it’s Atlanta calling. I’m not walking away; I’m staying right here. I’ll still cover the story for theBeacon,but I’ll freelance on the side for the network. And probably theAJCtoo, if this story has the legs we think it does. Print reporters do this all the time, Grayson, especially when there’s a breaking story that’s off the beaten path.”
“What are they paying you?” Grayson demanded.
“That’s none of your business. I will tell you, it’s a lot more than you’re paying me.”
“Of course. And the fact that your family happens toownthis newspaper? That means nothing to you, right?”
Conley planted both hands on Grayson’s desk and leaned forward. “Can I remind you? G’mama had toforceyou to hire me. And can Ialso remind you that as soon as I started making waves with this story, you threatened to fire me?”
“Let me remindyou,” she countered, “I gave you this job when you showed up here, unannounced, because you had no place else to go to.”
“Look,” Conley said, exasperated. “I don’t understand why you’re so pissed about this. You’ve known all along that I didn’t plan to make a career here at theBeacon.I never hid that from you. And I’m not hiding the fact that I’m entering into a stringing gig with NBC and theAJC.I told you that as a professional courtesy.”
“And what am I supposed to do with that? I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“You could be grateful,” Conley snapped, “that you’ve got an experienced reporter on staff who’s been on this story since Skelly and I rolled up on Symmes Robinette’s flaming Escalade. You could realize that you and theBeaconstand to gain readers and advertisers from all this, not to mention the prestige of scooping the rest of the world on this Shakespearean drama unfolding right in front of your eyes. But no, you can’t appreciate what you’ve got here. You’ve got a stick up your ass because you had to admit I was right and because your husband has walked off and left you.”
Grayson’s face paled. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me, you silly twit. You think I haven’t noticed you’re living in this office? That you spend your evenings drowning your sorrows at the Wrinkle Room at the country club? Jesus, Grayson! It doesn’t take a Woodward and Bernstein to figure out that Tony’s gone. Now. Do you wanna tell me what’s really bugging you?” Her face softened. “I hurt for you, sis. I do.”
“I don’t need your pity,” Grayson said, picking up a neat stack of papers and re-neatening them. “We’re going through some stuff, that’s all. It’ll work itself out. It has no bearing on your work here at the paper.”
“This isn’t about the paper. You’re my sister. I care about what happens to you. Please talk to me.”
Grayson massaged her temples with her fingertips. “Do you have any idea how much of my life I spend here? This place is like a gigantic boulder. Every day I push it uphill, and then overnight, it rolls backdown, and I start all over again. When Pops ran theBeacon,he had an advertising salesman, a circulation manager, and an office manager. He had a managing editor who also did layout and pasteup, four reporters, and two full-time photographers. We owned our own printing plant, and we had a battalion of kids on bikes delivering it every week.
“Now? It’s just me. And Lillian. With the crappy salaries I can afford to pay, I can only afford either burnouts or kids right out of journalism school, most of ’em green as grass and biding their time before moving on to a bigger paper. The fact that I managed to find a gem like Michael Torpy is a friggin’ miracle. I sell the ads, edit the copy, worry over circulation, and design the pages. We couldn’t afford to modernize our old press, so now, as soon as we put the paper to bed, I drive ninety minutes away to the printing plant in Milton. Tonight, I’ll probably sleep in the front seat of my car so I can be the first one at the loading dock in the morning. Once I’ve got the papers loaded, tomorrow I’ll head back to Silver Bay and start driving around town to fill all the paper boxes.”
There was a silver-framed wedding photo of Grayson and Tony on the credenza behind the desk. Grayson picked it up, stared at it, then put it back, facedown. “According to Tony, I spend every waking hour of my day at the office anyway and I never have time for him. He travels, I work, and when I’m not working, I’m worrying. About the paper. About G’mama. About money.” She shrugged. “He got fed up. He’s been renting a condo in Houston.”
“How long ago did he leave?” Conley asked.
“About a month ago. I don’t have much of an appetite, so I eat dinner in the bar at the club most nights. And going home to an empty house is depressing, so I sleep here. Any other questions?”
Conley was too stunned to speak at first. “Why didn’t you say something? Does G’mama know the kind of pressure you’re under?”
“She knows we’re in a financial bind and that I’ve talked about selling out to that chain from Kansas City, which, of course, she’s opposed to. I don’t want her worrying about me. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the stuff about Tony to yourself.”
“I’m not gonna go tattling to her about your marriage,” Conley said.“If you’ll let me, I’d be happy to pitch in and help out with the other stuff.”
“Since we’re putting all our cards on the table, I guess I should tell you we’re gonna have to do something about G’mama’s finances.”
