Page 53 of Hello, Summer
She nodded enthusiastically. Skelly wiped his hands on a cotton towel, then added a juicy red slice of tomato and a sprinkling of shredded lettuce. Finally, he added the top bun, spearing the whole thing with a pickled okra slice on a long wooden toothpick. He heaped potato chips alongside the burger, then presented the plate to Conley with a flourish.
“Lunch is served,” he announced.
She bit into the burger, chewed, and sighed happily. “Now I can tell all those snippy eighth-grade girls I finally went all the way with Sean Kelly!”
Skelly, mid-bite, choked, then began laughing. “As if.”
They worked their way through their lunch, laughing and trading reminiscences about their childhood exploits.
“How’s the headache?” he asked, polishing off the last potato chip on his plate. “Any better?”
“A little,” she said. “That burger was definitely a good idea for the headache, but the main problem I’m experiencing is a pain in the ass called Grayson Hawkins.”
“You two knocking heads again? What’s Gray done now?”
She filled him in on her sister’s opposition to the story she wanted to write.
“Seems to me Grayson has a point,” Skelly said. “Maybe Robinette wasn’t a saint, but so what? He’s dead now. Let it alone, why don’t you?”
She drained the last of her Cherry Coke and considered his question. Why couldn’t she let it be? Why did she have to keep turning over rocks and poking at trouble?
Before she could form an answer, June Kelly drifted over, slipping onto the barstool next to hers at the lunch counter.
“What are you two talking about?” she asked. “You both look so serious.”
Skelly shrugged. “Sarah’s been working on a story for the newspaper, Mama. About Symmes Robinette.”
Miss June’s face clouded, and her eyes narrowed. “Him! What’s he done now?”
“He’s dead, Miss June. He was killed in a car crash over in Bronson County, Monday night,” Conley said.
“I’m glad,” the older woman said. “Serves him right for how he did Toddie.”
“Mama!”
“He was a horrible, horrible man.” Her soft voice rose in indignation. “He got that girl pregnant, and then he divorced Toddie so he could marry that whore. And then Toddie moved away and took the children.” She turned to Skelly, looking perplexed. “Son, where did Toddie go?”
“I don’t know, Mama. That was a long time ago.”
“Maybe she’s at the farm,” Miss June said. “The children love that farm. Hank and Rebecca. They had horses and a mule. You tried to ride the mule one time, remember, Seanny?”
“Maybe,” Sean said. “I was just a little kid back then, and all Toddie’s kids were older than me.”
“Where was Toddie’s farm, Miss June?” Conley asked, intrigued.
Her face clouded, and tears sprang to her eyes. “I miss my friend so much.”
“What about the farm?” Conley repeated.
“Don’t!” Skelly said sharply under his breath. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?”
Conley’s face flushed with shame. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.” She took out her billfold to pay for her lunch, but Skelly waved the money away. “On the house.”
She pressed a five-dollar bill into his hand anyway. “I always like to overtip the help. And Skelly? I really am sorry. I got carried away.”
He shrugged. “Five minutes from now, she won’t remember you were here.”
“Bye, Miss June,” she said, touching the older woman’s arm. “I’ll see you soon.”
