I dug around in the knapsack, pulled out a bag of penny candy I bought at Zemp’s Drug Store yesterday, and tilted the bag toward Miss Emily. While she always fussed about Miss Lurleen’s sweet tooth, she was the real sugar addict out of the two. She fished around in the sack and pulled out three pieces, the only Hershey’s Kisses in the bag, and handed it back to me. “Thank you,” she said, popping one in her mouth. “Next time we stop, I hope there’s a diner so we can get some sweet tea in Lurleen.” “Do you think that’s a good idea? She drank a Coke just now, and I know she hates having to go to the bathroom all the time.” Before Miss Emily could answer, the little boy a few seats ahead of us spilled an entire cigar box full of crayons and began to wail. But Miss Lurleen didn’t stir. His mother chased the colors down the aisle as they rolled everywhere. I waited until Miss Lurleen’s head shifted back to Miss Emily’s shoulder, picked up the handful that landed at my feet, but couldn’t reach the ones by Miss Emily.
