Perched somewhere between sitting and standing, Earl F. "Billy" Kelley pushed away from a four-legged stool as another pickup truck rolled to the fuel pump outside his store.

With the cheapest gas around on a recent rainy day, the pump at Kelley's Country Store brought a few extra customers to the 1931 frame building off U.S. 301 near the Hanover County Courthouse. Kelley's lunch special, however, was a much tougher sell.

"What's good today?" David Fitzgerald asked brightly as a faded screened door slammed behind him. Kelley floated behind the counter, tidying up and sorting receipts.

"Italian wedding soup," he replied without further explanation.

"What is it?" Fitzgerald said.

"It's good," Kelley insisted.

"I'll pass. How about nice ham and cheese with lettuce, tomato and a little mayonnaise on wheat, toasted."

"You don't need that," Kelley said. "What you need is a cup of Italian wedding soup with a nice gourmet sandwich."

Fitzgerald, the store's gasoline distributor and one of many regulars, took a seat beside shelves displaying cereal, Knox gelatin and Borax as Kelley disappeared to the back.

Minutes later, Kelley returned with a cup brimming with steamy golden broth, noodles and miniature meatballs.

"You say it's divorce soup?" Fitzgerald ribbed.

"Italian wedding soup," Kelley said slowly. "It's delicious."

Fitzgerald dipped his plastic spoon into the brew and cautiously gave it a taste.

"It is good, I hate to admit," he said.

Kelley laughed and returned to the kitchen.

As Fitzgerald savored his lunch, a young out-of-town couple strolled in and marveled at the curious décor. Long-retired farm tools, model airplanes, a banjo, lanterns and baskets hang from the ceiling. Tin gas station signs, wind-up toys, pedal cars and vintage cigarette advertisements cover the walls.

Out for a little antique hunting, Matthew Leichty and his wife, Sunny, were disappointed to learn that little of the country memorabilia in the store is for sale.

"It looked like an antique store," a puzzled Leichty said, returning to his car. "It makes you wonder what type of business it is when you walk in and don't see any prices on anything. We were trying to figure out, 'Is it a grocery store, a gas station?'"

Since purchasing the store in the 1971, the 62-year-old Kelley said he has enjoyed filling it with "stuff people don't see anymore" -- from an antique cider press to half bottles of Coke to glass jars filled with rock candy, chews and peppermint sticks.

"I've had a lot of fun collecting all this stuff and dealing with the people. I love being here, but I have seen a lot of changes," Kelley said. "I tell you the truth, I'm getting too old to have all this stuff."

When she's not working part time at the courthouse, Kelley's wife, Catherine, helps ring up groceries, gasoline and sandwiches.

Although the couple's only child, 23-year-old Amanda, is away studying optometry in Pennsylvania, her old dolls and lunchboxes are displayed lovingly on both ends of the store.

A uniformed sheriff's deputy browsed a soda case stocked with bottles of Coca-Cola, Royal Crown, Nehi and TruAde. Two assistant commonwealth's attorneys relaxed near the wood stove with butter pecan and chocolate ice cream cones.

Steve Wright, a retired sheriff's official, spent the morning sipping Diet Mountain Dew and browsing classifieds ads.

Wright comes in the store at least three days a week to meet with a group of friends that calls itself the ROMEO Club, short for Retired Old Men Eating Out.

"We talk about what we did yesterday and lie about what we're going to do today," Wright said.

A favorite among the courthouse crowd, Wright said the store gives him a chance to stay current with politics and other talk of the town.

"You can fill your tank, fill your mind and fill your belly in one stop."

Contact Melodie N. Martin at (804) 649-6290 or mmartin@timesdispatch.com