Page 70 of Hello, Summer
Conley hopped down from the bunk. “You’re right. She charged me forty bucks.”
“Why, that old bandit!” Lorraine exclaimed. “Pops had those books printed for her. I think we used to sell them for ten dollars apiece. Of course, we didn’t sell but maybe two cases, and most of those were to Rowena’s relatives.”
Conley chuckled as she headed upstairs toward her own room.
“Wouldn’t you like to go to church with us this morning?” G’mama called after her. “We’re having a pancake breakfast afterward.”
“Another time, maybe,” Conley said, pausing on the staircase. “But wait. You’re not thinking of driving yourself into town, are you?”
“We’re going to beach church,” G’mama said, referring to the nondenominational service held on Sundays at Kirby’s Karaoke Café, where the family had attended summer services for years. “And Grayson is picking me up. I think you should go too. I want to clear up this unpleasantness between the two of you.”
“No, thanks,” Conley said, turning to go. “I’ve got work to do in town this morning.”
Upstairs, she turned on the shower in the tiny claw-foot tub and stripped out of her pajamas. But she yelped at the shock of the cold water streaming from the showerhead. She turned the nozzle on the hot water up all the way, got out of the tub, and waited five minutes, until finally, she gave up and took the fastest shower of her life.
Wrapped in a towel, she plugged in her hair dryer and turned it on—at which point the light fixture overhead sparked. A glance at the wall socket showed scorch marks. She cringed, thinking of how close she’d just come to electrocuting herself. And setting the house on fire.
When she got back downstairs, she found her grandmother waiting for her ride to church, dressed in what passed for casual in Lorraine’s world, a colorful floral-print shift, pearl earrings, hot-pink ballet flats, and a straw handbag, which hung loosely from her wrist.
Opie sat at Lorraine’s feet, sensing, from his mistress’s apparel, that she was about to leave without him.
Her grandmother wrinkled her nose at the sight of Conley’s own outfit—gym shorts, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes.
“You’re going into town looking like that?” She touched her granddaughter’s damp hair. “On a Sunday?”
“I’m working, G’mama,” Conley said. “Nobody’s going to see me. By the way, is the hot water heater broken? I had to take a cold shower just now. And I think I might have shorted out the electrical panel upstairs when I plugged in my hair dryer.”
“Oh,” Lorraine said, waving her hand. “I should have warned you. It takes a long time for hot water to travel all the way up to there. And I was taking my shower too, so I’m afraid I might have hogged all the hot water this morning. Sorry, dear.”
“That’s okay. But have you had the wiring checked lately?”
G’mama shrugged. “I’ll speak to Grayson about it. She handles that kind of thing.” She then reached into her pocketbook and brought out a small white envelope. “I have something for you.”
Conley took the envelope and ran her thumbnail under the flap. A key ring with a circular brass fob slid onto her palm. “What’s this?”
“It’s the key to theBeaconoffice. In fact, this happens to be Pops’s old key.”
Conley turned the key fob over and saw her grandfather’s monogram. “Why give this to me? Why not give it to Grayson? She’s running the paper, not me.”
“Your sister has her own key,” Lorraine said. “I wanted you to havethis one. To remind you of your place in this family and in this company. I want you to understand what’s at stake here.”
“You know I’m not going to stay in Silver Bay permanently, G’mama. This is strictly a temporary situation, until I get a job…”
“You mean at a real paper?”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Conley protested.
Her grandmother’s piercing blue eyes stared her down. “You won’t find anything more real or as rewarding as your hometown, Sarah. And you won’t find a community that needs a real newspaper as much as Silver Bay. You can make a difference here. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t ask you to stay.”
Conley sighed. “G’mama, I just don’t—”
A horn sounded from outside. Opie went to the door and started scratching at the screen.
Lorraine peered through the door’s glass sidelights. “There’s Grayson. I’d better go. Think about what I said, will you, please? And, Sarah?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“It would be lovely if I didn’t have to receive any phone calls about you today. And be a good girl and take Opie with you, please? I think he’s feeling neglected.”
