Winnie and G’mama had a new jigsaw puzzle spread out on the dining room table. It featured snow-covered mountains, delicately frosted trees, and a variety of snow-loving birds and other wildlife.
Conley peered down at it. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s either the Alps or Maine,” Winnie said, slotting together two corner pieces. “I get all those cold places mixed up.”
G’mama picked up the box top and waved it in her friend’s face. “It’s Alaska, you old fool. Pay attention.”
“We saw you on television tonight,” Winnie said excitedly. “You looked real cute, once I got over how awful the yard looks at the house.”
“Gray said the contractor doesn’t think the house can be saved because of all the termite damage,” Conley said. She glanced over at her grandmother, who was sipping her drink and studying the puzzle.
“I gave myself exactly an hour to feel sad about it, and then I made up my mind that I won’t be sad anymore,” Lorraine said. “Termites didn’t take the things I care most about. So we’ll sell the lot and use the money to put some air-conditioning in this house.”
“And a dishwasher, praise baby Jesus,” Winnie added.
“You did look cute on TV,” G’mama said. “Should wear your hair like that all the time.”
She paused, then continued. “By the way, I talked to your sister before you got home. She tells me you’ve got something important to tell me.”
“She’s such a tattletale,” Conley said. “I guess she also told you I’m planning on staying on to work at the paper.”
“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 you need to do is sauté some 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.
Conley plopped down onto the swing and patted the seat beside her as an invitation.
Skelly crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head, trying to read her expression. “No sunset beach walk before dinner?”
“Not enough time,” she said, pointing toward the horizon, where the sky was streaked with vivid violet and orange and periwinkle and half a dozen other colors whose names she couldn’t currently remember.
“Just look at that,” she said softly. The Gulf had turned from green to deep blue, but it was lavender now, barely rippled, and the fading sun cast a reflected orange stripe on the surface of the water.
Skelly sat down and stretched his arm around her shoulders. “I know how you love your sunsets. But is there something special about this one tonight?”
“I hope so,” she said. She lifted his hand from her shoulder and kissed the palm of it.
He looked startled for a moment. “Seems like you have something important on your mind.”
“Very important,” she agreed, laying her head on his shoulder and snuggling close beside him.
She stayed like that, listening to the rise and fall of his breathing, studying the curve of his jaw, his profile, the barely gray stubble of his beard. She reached up and removed the sunglasses perched on his nose.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I want to see your eyes,” she said.
He blinked rapidly. “They’re the same eyes you’ve been looking at your whole life.”
Skelly’s eyes were brownish-greenish with flecks of black and luxurious lashes that she’d never appreciated until lately.
“You’re right,” Conley said. “Maybe it’s my eyes that have changed. Maybe I’m finally seeing you the way I should have seen you all along.”
He kissed her. “About time. Now what’s all this about my eyes?”
“I want to be looking right at them when I tell you I love you, that’s all.”
He grasped her shoulders with both hands. “You love me?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I did all along. Maybe I was waiting all this time, to come back home and finally discover the man of my dreams was actually the boy next door.”
Skelly pulled her closer and was about to kiss her again, when she put a finger to his lips.
“Hold on,” she said. “Isn’t there something you want to tell me?”
“Oh.” He gave it a moment’s thought. “Is this the part where I tell you that I’ve been here all along, trying to convince myself I could somehow be happy with somebody else but at the same time patiently waiting for you to finally come home and fall in love with the skinny guy down the block who broke your heart a million years ago but who was secretly in love with you all along?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around him and fell into him, and they kissed. When she looked up, fifteen minutes later, the sun had set, and a million tiny stars spattered the dark velvet sky.
“We missed the sunset,” Skelly pointed out. They were reclined on the sand now, and his arm cushioned the back of her head.
“I know, but there’ll be others,” she said.
“Does this mean you’ll marry me?” he asked.
“I think I have to,” Conley said, kissing him again. “Because if I don’t, G’mama will.”