Page 30 of Hello, Summer
“Conley thinks it’s terrible that Pops caved in to pressure from our biggest advertiser,” Grayson told their grandmother, her voice mocking. “She probably never realized that ad revenue paid for her expensive boarding school and out-of-state college tuition.”
“That’s enough, Grayson,” G’mama said, her voice sharp. “Sarah is part of this family and part of theBeaconownership. She has a right to question our editorial decisions. Just as you have a right to explain our rationale.”
“Okay,” Conley said slowly. “But Green’s Department Store has been out of business since, what, the nineties? So you actually could fire Rowena now, right?”
“We could,” Grayson agreed. “If we wanted to lose our status as the county’s legal organ, and if revenue from our legal ads wasn’t the only thing keeping us from financial ruin.”
“I don’t understand,” Conley admitted. “I mean, I know theBeaconis the official legal organ for Griffin County, which means we run all the bankruptcy, liquor license applications, and death and divorce notices. But what’s Rowena got to do with that?”
“It’s not Rowena,” Grayson said, scowling. “It’s her grandson, Rusty.”
“Wait. I didn’t know Rowena was ever married,” Conley said. “And she had a kid too?”
“Lawton Meigs was a darling man,” Lorraine said. “Everyone adored him.”
“Smartest thing he ever did was have the good sense to drop dead of a heart attack before that woman could make his life a living hell,” Winnie said.
“Rowena had a daughter, Rebecca,” Lorraine said, “who ran off at seventeen when she got pregnant. A few years later, she married an older man, who adopted Rebecca’s son, Rusty.”
“And Rusty Cummings is the Griffin County clerk of court,” Grayson concluded. “Who, coincidentally, holds the power to appoint any publication as the county’s legal organ of record.”
“Oh.” Conley picked up the newspaper and fanned herself with it. “Thus, it’s either Hello, Summer or goodbye, legal ads.”
“Exactly,” Grayson said.
“There’s another reason I came out here today,” Grayson said. “G’mama asked me to pick up her prescription.” She held up a small white paper bag and shook it. “She wassupposedto have you pick up her prescription before y’all headed out here this morning.”
“I forgot, all right?” Lorraine snapped. “Sometimes things slip my mind. It doesn’t mean I’m senile.”
“No, it means her hair was about on fire to get out here to the beach,” Winnie said.
Lorraine glared at her housekeeper. “I called Grayson to ask her something, and she very sweetly volunteered to bring my medicine out to me. And to stop at the liquor store on the way.”
Grayson wagged a finger in G’mama’s direction. “One sunsetter a day, agreed?”
Lorraine shrugged and looked away.
“There’s something else on my mind,” Grayson said, sitting back in her chair. “Skelly and I were chatting, and he told me about that wreck you guys came across last night. He said you took some pictures?”
Conley nodded, waiting.
“Do they know who was in the car?” G’mama asked.
“I called Michael in and had him make some phone calls. I just heard from him as I was driving out here. Nothing official yet, but it looks like it was Symmes Robinette.”
“What?” G’mama’s drink slipped from her hand, the glass shattering on the wooden floor.
“Oh my God,” Winnie said, her face turning pale. She jumped up from her chair. “Don’t move, y’all. I’ll get the broom.”
“Symmes Robinette? For real?” Conley asked, just as shocked as her grandmother.
Symmes Robinette was actually Congressman Charles SymmesRobinette, a longtime member of the U.S. House of Representatives, from Florida’s Thirty-fifth District, which included Griffin County.
Conley hadn’t kept up much with local politics over the years. She’d been sent off to Virginia to boarding school as a teenager and hadn’t really lived in Silver Bay since graduating from college, but she knew the Robinette family, particularly the congressman’s son, C. Symmes Robinette Jr.—or Charlie, as he liked to be called—on a personal—and painful—level.
“I can’t believe it,” Lorraine said.
Grayson went to the bar cart and deftly assembled another cocktail, handing one to Conley, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, fixing a replacement drink for their grandmother.
