“We’re, uh, kind of dating. Actually, more than kind of.” Kennedy smiled and changed the subject. “Wow, you really have been gone from here a long time, haven’t you?”
“Pretty much,” Conley agreed.
“I hope this doesn’t make me sound like a total loser,” Kennedy confided, blushing slightly, “and I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker, but I’ve kind of been following your career for years now.”
“Really? Why?”
“You were a hotshot eighth grader when I was in fifth grade,” Kennedy said. “All the teachers used to talk about what an amazing student you were and how you were going to be an important writer someday. I was a nerdy little bookworm who aspired to being a famous writer someday, so you were sort of my hero.”
“Mama?” Graceanne poked her head out from behind the sofa and held out the iPad. “More.”
“Just one more,” Kennedy said, tabbing over to an icon and pressing a key to restart whatever video the child was watching, before handing it back.
Conley found herself blushing now. “I think that’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me. I was such a loser in middle school. I wanted desperately to hang with the cool kids like Grayson, but I didn’t fit in anywhere. It was almost a relief when my grandmother insisted on sending me away to boarding school in Virginia.”
“I was the exact opposite,” Kennedy said. “Iwasone of the cool kids in high school, unfortunately. Cheerleader, homecoming court, all that crap. No more nerdy bookworm for me.”
“But you went to college, right?”
“Kinda. All my friends were going to Florida State, so that was a no-brainer, as far as I was concerned. I pledged the right sorority, dated the right jocks. Got a degree in advertising and followed my college boyfriend to Orlando. Got a job with an agency, married the boyfriend.”
“What brought you back to Silver Bay?” Conley asked.
Kennedy yanked a thumb in the direction of Graceanne. “This one. My husband split. Just walked out on us. I tried the whole solo single-mom thing, but it’s so damn hard! I don’t know how women do it without family. My mom finally talked me into moving back here, and I have to say, it’s been a huge relief.”
“I’ll bet,” Conley said.
“You probably think it’s weird, raising a kid in a funeral home,” Kennedy said.
“You live here?” Conley didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
“Upstairs. My dad’s parents raised him and my aunts and uncles here, and they turned out okay. The whole second story is one huge apartment. Way more room than we ever had in our crappy little rental in Orlando. And it’s free, so the price is right. My mom watches Graceanne while I’m working, and she spoils her rotten.”
“But what do you do here? I mean, you don’t actually…”
“What? Embalm bodies?” Kennedy chuckled. “God, no. I do all the marketing, some of the bookkeeping, anything that doesn’t involve mortuary science.”
“That’s what it’s called?” Conley was intrigued, despite herself.
“Yup. My grandfather and my dad graduated from a mortuary school in Atlanta. Dad made noises about sending me, but I said hell to the no.”
“And you like it? Working in the family business?”
“Yeah,” Kennedy said, sounding surprised at her own answer. “I actually do. What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. What’s it like, coming home and working for your family business after working for a big-deal daily newspaper?”
“This is only a short-term thing,” Conley said. “I’d taken a job with another publication, but things didn’t work out as planned. So I’m back in town, staying out at the beach with my grandmother, sending out résumés.”
“And working at theBeacon,” Kennedy said. “Must be kind of a letdown, huh? The last scandal we had around here was when the high school football coach left his wife for the girls’ basketball coach. Nobodywould have cared except that he had a losing season that year. Nothing exciting ever happens in Silver Bay.”
“We’ll see,” Conley said. “I’d better hit the road. But before I do, could I get another copy of the Robinette funeral notice?”
“Give me your business card and I’ll email it to you,” Kennedy said.
Conley scribbled her contact information on a page of her notebook and handed it over. She stood up and peeked behind the sofa, where the little girl was busily stripping off her shirt and shorts again. “Bye, Graceanne.”
