Page 53 of Poison Wood
“My dad told me,” she says.
I nod. Just like he told my father.
“Summer, I’m sure you knew,” I say. “It would make sense the governor at the time would be notified.”
Of all the important parents at that school, Summer’s sat at the top of the power pyramid, in the governor’s mansion in Baton Rouge. Her father in his signature Italian suits and her mother in her cream silk pantsuits. Unlike Kat’s mother, who never bothered to come to the school. Only her dad, the DA, would stop in on occasion, flashing his bright smile and dark stare.
Summer nods. “I’m sure the other girls’ parents got word too.”
“I doubt they got word before the news conference. And no other girls were at the school the week Heather disappeared,” I say. “Just us.”
“Y’all ready to order?” our server says, making Summer jump. She sets our drinks on the table.
“I’m just having water,” Kat says, handing back her menu.
“I’ll take the garden salad,” I say. “Dressing on the side.”
Summer smiles up at her. “I wonder if you can get me something not on the menu,” she says.
“Here we go,” Kat says under her breath.
“I’m a diabetic, so I need to be extra careful about what I eat. Is there any way you can have them make me a plain turkey sandwich with gluten-free bread. No white bread or wheat bread. It has to be gluten-free. And it needs to be deconstructed. Turkey and bread separate. With a side of spicy mustard and one pickle slice. But just one.”
Kat scoffs.
Bangs gives Kat a sour look and refocuses on Summer’s upturned face. “Of course.” She gives Summer a wink. “I got you, sweetie.”
“You’re a doll,” Summer says.
I stare at Summer. I don’t remember her being diabetic.
Once our server has left, Kat says, “Pretty privilege at work.”
“Kat,” I say.
Summer shrugs. “She’s just jealous.” She gives Kat a smile, and Kat smiles back.
“She’s jealous you’re diabetic?” I say to Summer.
“Oh, I’m not a diabetic.” Summer sips her water. “My mom is. I’ve learned it’s a way to make sure the order gets done properly.”
The three of us look at each other for a moment, but no one speaks.
“How is your dad?” Kat says, breaking the awkward moment. “My dad told me about the ... that he’s in the hospital.”
“Yeah,” Summer says. “Sorry about that.”
“He’s okay. Thanks,” I say. Then I add, “You know what brought me to town. What brought you two to town?” I look between them.
“Are you kidding? No way Summer and I would miss a front-row seat to whatever is about to go down with that school.”
From the look on Summer’s face, I’d say she wouldn’t mind missing it. That makes two of us.
“I’m sure your dad’s freaking out,” Kat says. “You know better than anyone the media is going to eat this up. I mean, we all better get ready.”
She seems like the one who’s eating it up. But she’s not wrong.
“He’s got me to help him,” I say.
