Page 61 of Hello, Summer
“I shouldn’t have upset her like that,” Conley said. “Sometimes I lose track of boundaries. You were right to rein me in. I’m sorry I went too far.”
“It’s forgotten,” Skelly said. “I was going to call and ask if I could take you out to dinner, to make it up to you.”
“And I was calling you for sort of the same reason. G’mama had another spell today. She’d been out working in the garden in all this heat, and when Winnie finally made her come inside, she passed out cold on the kitchen floor.”
“Good God! Were you there? What did you do?”
“I’m ashamed to say I was still in town, at Felicity Street, workingon this damn story,” she admitted. “Winnie managed to get her up and make her eat and drink something. G’mama insists it’s nothing, and she absolutely forbade Winnie to call an ambulance or even to call me.”
“That’s not good, Conley,” Skelly said. “Sounds to me like her blood sugar was out of whack.”
“Had to be. The only thing she had to eat today was a slab of pecan pie and a cup of coffee for breakfast.”
“What can I do?” Skelly asked. “Do you want me to have a talk with her? Try to get her to understand how serious this is?”
“She probably won’t listen to a lecture. But maybe if you just showed up at the Dunes, like at cocktail time, on some kind of a pretext, she’d invite you to stay for supper because she adores you. Is there any way you could do that?”
“If I know your grandmother, she’ll see right through the pretext, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Oh, wait. What about Miss June? Can you leave her for that long?”
“She’ll be fine,” Skelly said. “Her favorite cousin comes over to visit on Saturdays to give me a break, and they have movie night. Anita usually sleeps over. What time should I just innocently drop by?”
“As soon as you can get away,” Conley said. “Thanks, Skelly. I owe you one.”
Winnie had fixed a tray with fruit, cheese, and crackers.
Conley helped herself to a cube of cheddar. “Any idea what G’mama wants to talk to me about? Sounds like I’m fixing to be in the doghouse.”
“It’s this damn Symmes Robinette thing,” Winnie said, sinking onto her favorite step stool. “Your sister called her up, and then I know she got a couple of other calls too. Folks in this town are riled up because they don’t like you asking questions about him. They all think that old man’s shit don’t stink.”
“But you don’t agree?” Conley popped a green grape in her mouth and chewed.
Winnie pressed her lips together tightly. “No, ma’am. I been knowing his kind all my life.” She glanced in the direction of the hallway that led to the bunk room. “He’s the reason my sister didn’t live to see her babies grow up. There’s a whole lot of bodies in the graveyard over in Plattesvile that he’s responsible for, and a lot of other people that are still walking around alive, but messed up inside because of him. Symmes Robinette can rot in hell as far as I’m concerned.”
She wiped her hands on a dish towel and placed the cheese plate on a wicker tray, along with glasses, the ice bucket, and the cocktail pitcher.
Conley was too stunned by Winnie’s outburst to respond at first. “What did Symmes have to do with Nedra’s death? I thought she had cancer.”
“Winnie?” Lorraine stood in the doorway. She was wearing pale lilac cotton slacks, a white blouse with long sleeves that hid the cuts and bruises on her arms, and a silk scarf with a swirly design in blues, pinks, and lavender draped across her narrow shoulders. Her thinning silver hair was still damp from her bath, but combed back and fastened with a silver clasp. She’d applied makeup over the bruise on her cheekbone. She was once again the queen of the Dunes.
“I’ve got the drinks tray all ready,” Winnie said.
“But you’re sticking to water or iced tea, at least until we figure out these sinking spells of yours,” Conley said.
“Ridiculous,” Lorraine said. She turned to the housekeeper. “Winnie, if you don’t mind, Sarah and I have some family matters to discuss.”
“Suits me,” Winnie said, turning on the aqua radio. “Guess I’ll see if I can get me a ball game to listen to.”
21
Lorraine waited until they were in their assigned seats on the porch. Conley poured her grandmother some unsweetened iced tea and served herself a sunsetter.
Suddenly, Lorraine whipped out her obsolete flip phone and brandished it at her granddaughter as though it were a switch and the screened porch was the woodshed.
“Sarah, what on earth have you been up to today?”
Conley took a sip of her cocktail, strictly to bolster her courage. “Who called?”
