Page 172 of Hello, Summer
“She did mention something like that,” Lorraine admitted. She snaked an arm around her granddaughter’s waist. “That’s the best news I’ve had all year.”
“You might not be happy with some of the stories I want to write,” she warned her grandmother. “I’ll probably be rocking some boats and pissing off a lot more people.”
“Good,” Winnie said approvingly. “This town needs shaking up.”
“I might need your help, though, Winnie. I want to write a big piece about that cancer cluster in Plattesville and the railroad’s history of denying responsibility. I’d like to find more families, besides yours, that were affected.”
“I’ll put you in touch with Randee, that lawyer lady,” Winnie said. “She’s got everybody’s names and all their medical records. I hear from her every year, on the anniversary of the day Nedra died.”
“Okay. That’ll be my first project, now that I’ve got a little job security. On a lighter note, what do we have in the refrigerator that I could cook for dinner tonight?” Conley asked. “Preferably something simple.”
“Your grandmama and I had a late, big lunch, so I didn’t fix us anything for dinner tonight,” Winnie said. “You might could find some leftovers in there if you look around.”
“Have you got company coming?” Lorraine asked, playing coy. She picked up a puzzle piece and twisted and turned it, trying to fit it in a slot where it obviously didn’t belong.
“I invited Skelly to come out and watch the sunset and have dinner.”
She could almost see her grandmother’s matchmaking antennae quiver. “Any special occasion?”
“Every sunset is special, especially the night after you thought you might not get to see another one,” Conley said.
Winnie put together another corner of the puzzle. “I picked the last of the baby lettuce from the garden this morning and some sweet little cherry tomatoes. And there are a couple of fillets in the fridge. All youneed to do is sautésome shallots in some butter, add in some of the mushrooms from the crisper drawer, then drop in a good-size knob of blue cheese. Deglaze the pan with some white wine, and that’ll make a pretty fancy steak sauce for a Monday night dinner.”
“Perfect!” Conley said.
Lorraine picked up the cut glass tumbler with the dregs of her sunsetter and pounded it on the uncooperative puzzle piece. “You know, sometime soon, you’re going to have to learn how to cook a proper meal if you’re ever going to find a man to settle down with.”
“You never learned how to cook, and I seem to recall you did just fine in the husband department,” Winnie pointed out. She snatched away the offending puzzle piece, which showed a portion of a mountain goat’s head, and put it in its rightful place, on the other side of the puzzle, atop a mountain goat’s body.
G’mama glared at her. “Times are different now. That’s all I’m saying.”
Conley picked up a rounded corner piece and offered it to her grandmother. “What if I told you I think I already found a man to settle down with? And he happens to be a way better cook than I’ll ever be?”
Lorraine held up her empty glass and jiggled what was left of the ice cubes. “I’d say this calls for a toast.”
He arrived early, with a slightly wilted bouquet of zinnias in a fruit jar and a large brown paper bag, and Conley couldn’t decide if she loved him more for the early arrival or for the gift of groceries.
G’mama eyed the zinnias with suspicion. “Are those flowers from my garden in town?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Skelly admitted. “Mama wanted to walk down and see your house, and before I could stop her, she’d picked every single flower in your garden.”
“Well, it would have been a shame to let a bulldozer knock ’em down,” Lorraine said. “What’s in the sack?”
He handed it over. She reached inside and pulled out an ear of corn.
G’mama sniffed it appreciatively. “Mmm. Fresh Silver Queen. I know that didn’t come out of my garden.”
“No, ma’am. I stopped at the farm stand on the way out here,” he said.
“Save me an ear, and I’ll have it for breakfast,” G’mama said, standing up and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“You’re not having dinner with us?” he asked.
“I wasn’t invited,” G’mama said. “Winnie and I are going to sit on the porch and watch the sunset before our programs come on. You’re welcome to join us.”
“No, thanks,” Conley said, taking his arm. “We’ll be on the beach if you need us.”
They left their shoes at the base of the stairway and walked barefoot down the path through the dunes to the little cove.
