by Ashton Lee
“Councilman Sparks,” Maura Beth answered, “was that grand speech you just gave out at the lake a bunch of hollow words? It certainly seems that way to me right now. You went on and on about how Cherico would be getting a state-of-the-art building. Do I need to remind you that this library will bear your name?”
“So what?”
“So it will reflect poorly upon you if this facility ends up actually not being state of the art. Your legacy will be tarnished, I can assure you, and I know you don’t want that to happen.”
That seemed to give the councilman pause, if only for a moment. “I can appreciate that. But these are legitimate questions I have here, Miz Mayhew. Please indulge me for a moment. For instance, what about this large space dedicated to . . . what was the term you used again, ‘technicalities’? What the hell does that mean? Are you talking about unforeseen emergencies or something? This isn’t a hospital, you know. We’ve got Cherico Memorial for that.”
Maura Beth couldn’t help but crack a smile. “As I explained previously, that would be technical services, Councilman. I don’t just wiggle my nose like Elizabeth Montgomery to get the books on the shelves where they belong. Many’s the long day I’ve wished it could be like that, but unfortunately it’s not. The books have to be processed so we can scan them at the front desk and keep track of them. We have to add things like bar codes and MARC records—that’s how we get them into the collection so the public can use them. We’ll be hiring a full-time tech services librarian, and we’ll need more book carts and tables and computers, for starters. But it’s long overdue. I’ve had to do this all by myself the past six years, so I’m truly looking forward to delegating that responsibility.”
Councilman Sparks whistled and then gestured over his head with a Whoosh! that let Maura Beth know everything she had explained had fallen on deaf ears. “I don’t know about all this. I feel like you’re the mechanic insisting that my car needs some part I’ve never heard of. Somehow I think you’re taking advantage of us with all these fancy terms and stipulations.”
Maura Beth felt something inside snap. If there was something akin to a composure bone in her body, it had just been shattered. But she wisely took a deep breath to let the crisis pass. She had no intention of taking this latest pronouncement lying down or letting it push her over the edge. “Since I came to Cherico six years ago, I’ve never been in a position to take advantage of anyone. My parents already think I’m crazy to stay here at my salary and do all the things I have to do to keep the library halfway up and running. But this new facility we’re building out at the lake has been a silver lining for me. It’s what’s keeping me going. That and my upcoming marriage.”
“Yes, that is a bit of good news for you,” Councilman Sparks said with an exaggerated smile that quickly disappeared. “To that Mr. McShay you introduced me to today under the tent, I understand. And a fine-looking, responsible young lad he is, I’m sure. What was it he was going to be teaching out at the high school? Shop? Soldering? Or maybe woodwork? I know it must be rewarding teaching students how to make mailboxes.”
Maura Beth recognized the dig but refused to let it bother her. “No, he’s teaching English, as a matter of fact. He has some wonderful ideas about bringing literature to life for his students. He calls it ‘Living the Classics in the Real World.’ He first got the idea when he was teaching up in Nashville.”
“Fancy,” Councilman Sparks said with a smirk. “But I do feel I should warn you that our principal, Obie Hutchinson, is somewhat of a traditionalist when it comes to the curriculum. Readin’, writin’, and ’rithmetic, as he might put it. I certainly wouldn’t put our Obie on the cutting edge of educational ideas.”
Maura Beth gave him a fleeting smile but was determined to stay on point. “I’m sure Jeremy will work things out. He’s going to be very patient about it all. But back to the subject of our blueprints, gentlemen. I can assure you that a tech services room and a teen room are not frivolous suggestions I’ve invented just to spend more money. I fully realize we have a fixed amount to work with, but when we accepted the bid of Thomas Grayson and Sons Construction, we all agreed that it came in under our ceiling by quite a bit. Doing things on the cheap at this stage is just not the way to go.” The look of disdain on Councilman Sparks’s face convinced Maura Beth that she needed to show her ace in the hole once again.
“Besides,” she continued, raising her voice slightly, “Nora Duddney and I have agreed that we need to keep an eye on all things regarding the library, past and present. I’m sure you understand what I mean, Councilman.”
While Rogers Jernigan looked puzzled, Councilman Sparks immediately conjured up his best reelection smile and did not miss a beat. “City Hall has always appreciated your point of view, of course.”
“Then are we finally agreed that the teen room, along with the tech services room and librarian, will be an integral part of our wonderful new facility? No fudging the plans and second-guessing down the road?” Maura Beth concluded with a saucy tilt of her head.
Councilman Sparks rose from behind his desk, leaned over, and offered his hand. “I think you’ve answered our questions to our satisfaction, Miz Mayhew. Hasn’t she, Rogers?”
Still looking mystified, Rogers managed a perfunctory, “Uh . . . yes.” And that was the end of that.
“This has been quite a day for both of us,” Maura Beth said, back at her efficiency on Clover Street. She and Jeremy were seated next to each other on her rust-colored sofa, holding hands and gazing affectionately at one another. There were many times they found themselves doing that and saying nothing. But this time they had much to discuss. “We were both tested but came through with flying colors.”
“This is just round one for me with Obie Hutchinson,” Jeremy added. “But at least I let him know who I am.”
Maura Beth drew herself up proudly. “Well, I think it’s finally beginning to dawn on Durden Sparks that his glory days of intimidating me have come to an end. He got away with it for far too long; but as far as I’m concerned, I think I’ve slain that dragon. Or at least put out his fire.”
Jeremy leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “You are my princess warrior, Maurie.”
The phone rang and Maura Beth hurried over to the kitchenette counter to answer it. She covered the receiver and loudly whispered the words “My mother!” in Jeremy’s general direction as the conversation began.
“Were you in the middle of something?” Cara Lynn Mayhew asked at the other end.
Maura Beth enthusiastically gave the details of the groundbreaking ceremony in response.
“Sounds like something exciting went on up there for once,” Cara Lynn continued. “I’m happy for you.”
Maura Beth drew back in surprise but quickly recovered. “I can assure you I’m very happy, Mama. So, what’s up?”
When Cara Lynn finally spoke up after a significant pause, she appeared to be playing a game of twenty questions. “Well . . . I was wondering . . . how I should dress for this upcoming Cherico outing? I mean, will I need any formal clothes? I’m thinking I probably won’t. Does anyone ever dress for dinner up there?”
Maura Beth shot Jeremy an exasperated glance as she exhaled. She could picture her mother exquisitely coiffed and accessorized at this very moment, sitting at her antique writing desk; her makeup skillfully applied, and her tall, trim figure shown off to perfection by whatever designer outfit she was wearing.
“Mama, I know for a fact you have clothes for every occasion in that walk-in closet of yours. I’ve never seen you inappropriately dressed. You even look ready for the runway in your bathrobe with your hair dripping wet after you shower. Plus, everyone who is anyone at all knows you’re the unquestionable fashion maven of the entire metropolitan New Orleans area.”
“Thank you for that,” came the perfunctory reply, “but this little Cherico of yours cannot possibly be anything like the Crescent City. Why, there’s no comparison whatsoever. I was thinking I could get by
with a few simple frocks if all I’m going to be doing is staying at a fishing lodge and visiting a library.”
Maura Beth was growing weary of the gamesmanship and decided to turn the tables. “So you’re thinking of appearing in something off the rack?”
The gasp at the other end of the phone was quite audible and genuine. “Maura Beth, what on earth would make you say a thing like that to me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the redundant nature of this phone call. We keep having the same conversations about everything, and you know good and well neither one of us is going to change her mind.”
Another gasp followed. “So you’d rather not hear from your mother? Is that what you’re saying?”
In spite of everything, Maura Beth indulged a smile. If she could back down Councilman Sparks no matter what he threw at her these days, she could handle her mother’s trademark manipulations. “Now, you know that’s not what I’m saying. Mama, I just wish you would try to be a little more open-minded when you and Daddy come up here. Why don’t you pack like you were going to Europe for the summer? You’ve done that enough over the years.”
The laughter that followed had a derisive edge. “Oh, surely you’re not comparing Cherico to Europe, Maura Beth!”
“Mama, I don’t know what else to say to you. Your hosts, the McShays, are perfectly lovely, generous people. All my friends are. You’re going to have a wonderful time up here, if you’ll just leave your preconceived notions at home.”
There was hopeful silence. Then, “Well, perhaps there’s no harm in that. But I had another question for you. Do you think your father and I should actually read The Robber Bridegroom, or can we just kibitz? I did all the book reports I ever intended to do in high school and at Tulane.”
“Whatever you prefer. We have members of The Cherry Cola Book Club who come to eat and socialize, while others take the literary aspects very seriously. And then we have some who do both. If you’d be more comfortable just observing, then that’s fine by me.”
Cara Lynn’s sigh was clearly plaintive. “Then I guess we’ll just sit on the sidelines. I’ll just think of it as another dull party. But I have to be honest and tell you that we’re not looking forward to the long drive up. Five and a half hours of plowing through Mississippi.”
“Mama, you’re too much,” Maura Beth said, more amused than disappointed. “They don’t let the kudzu completely cover the interstates up here, you know. A few feet of concrete are still exposed so you won’t lose your way. And if you don’t feel like driving, you can always fly to Memphis and rent a car.”
“No, thanks. The planes these days are like buses with wings. And they even charge you for the peanuts now. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less.”
“Then it’s all settled,” Maura Beth added, wanting more than anything else to end the conversation before things got too out of hand and she was tempted to say something she might regret. “You and Daddy will drive up in two weeks for all the festivities and become the smash hit of Cherico. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”
“All right, then,” Cara Lynn said, though not sounding wholly convinced. “If this is what you really want.”
“Trust me, Mama. It really is.”
There was no response at the other end, but Maura Beth could tell from the sound of her mother’s breathing that she had something else on her mind. Finally, it came out.
“About your wedding dress . . .”
“Oh, I’ve narrowed it down to two since we talked about it last,” Maura Beth said. “I’ll have pictures of both of the ones I like best from Bluff City Bridal in Memphis. When you come up, you can help me make the final decision. One’s an A-line design, and the other is an Empire.”
“Empire?!” The disapproval in Cara Lynn’s voice almost took on a life of its own. “Please tell me you aren’t pregnant and that’s the reason you didn’t want to have the wedding down here!”
Maura Beth’s initial surprise soon turned to exasperation, but she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Of course not, Mama. You know me better than that. I just like the high waist, that’s all.”
There was more silence—at least thirty seconds of it—and Maura Beth even began to wonder if they’d lost the connection. “Mama? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Listen, if you think the Empire dress will make people talk, we’ll go with the A-line.” Maura Beth was careful to keep a smile in her voice, but Cara Lynn seemed determined to channel the drama queen inside.
“There was . . . something else I’d like you to consider. I didn’t bring it up last time because, well, I was so distracted by all of your other wedding decisions. I’m just the mother of the bride, you know.”
Maura Beth continued to extend the olive branch. “Mama, you’re so much more than that, and you know it. So please go right on ahead and tell me what’s on your mind?”
“It’s just that you and I are the same size. And I was thinking that maybe you might consider wearing my wedding dress. It’s in wonderful shape since it’s been in cold storage all these years with my winter furs. You’ve seen it in my wedding pictures, of course. It’s sort of A-line-ish. And if you wore it, that would bring at least a little of our New Orleans tradition into the ceremony.”
Well, there it was—full-blown. Maternal pressure as only Cara Lynn Mayhew could conjure up. What to say and what to do? Delaying tactics definitely seemed the order of the day.
“Could I mull it over a bit and get back to you?”
“Yes, of course you can. I just thought I’d go ahead and put the bug in your ear.”
“Oh, it’s there, Mama. I can feel it crawling around.”
Finally, a note of laughter from the both of them lightened an overwhelmingly leaden conversation. “Yes, well, you think about it and let me know. I could even bring my dress up on my visit and let you see it up close.”
“Okay, Mama. I promise I’ll get back to you soon.”
After they’d hung up, Maura Beth stood beside the kitchenette counter frowning for the longest time. She wasn’t even going to tell Jeremy about this latest development. It was just between herself and her mother, and she needed to dig down and make the right decision. An old, A-line-ish dress versus something brand-new and sparkling. Her mother’s approval versus pleasing herself. Which was it going to be?
It was after Maura Beth’s candlelight dinner of spaghetti, French bread, and tomato and avocado salad an hour or so later that Jeremy got the idea. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before,” he began, while helping Maura Beth clear the cozy dining table that still managed to take up half of their living room. “I mean, all this time we’ve been focusing on your parents coming up for The Robber Bridegroom review. But sooner or later, the Brentwood McShays and the New Orleans Mayhews have got to get together. It’s probably a good idea to get that over with before we leave for the honeymoon, don’t you think?”
Maura Beth tried her best not to smile at his attempt at humor but couldn’t help herself. “There you go again, Jeremy McShay. Such a grasp of the obvious.”
“So, why not invite my parents down from Brentwood for the book club meeting, too? Let’s be optimistic for a change. Maybe our mothers will really hit it off. For instance, they could talk about Mom’s craft boutique down at the Cool Springs Galleria. It’s exactly the kind of upscale store you said your mother likes.”
Maura Beth began her task of rinsing off dishes. They had agreed to take turns, and this happened to be her night. “I don’t know. Mama’s not too much of an artsy-craftsy type, although she does love jewelry. She’s more of a ‘shop ’til you drop’ girl—particularly when it comes to the right clothes.”
Jeremy handed her another plate and snickered. “Well, then, they could talk fashion. That would give them something in common. Plus, Mom went to Sweet Briar, and you said your mother went to Tulane, right?”
“Only until she got engaged. She’d never admit it, of cour
se, but that’s why she enrolled in the first place. And sure enough, she met Daddy there while he was in law school.”
Jeremy lifted his right eyebrow smugly. “So what’s the big deal if she was on safari? You were the result, Maurie, and as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t get any better than you.”
She turned to him briefly and flashed a flirtatious smile. “It’s just that I was very serious about becoming a librarian at LSU. I had a completely different approach to my education. I knew exactly where I was going, and my parents haven’t really gotten that into their heads to this day.”
“Well, look at it this way. Dad taught psychology at Vandy for decades. That’s three very good private schools among the in-law résumés right there. Chances are, they’ll all hit it off.”
“I certainly hope so. But do Connie and Douglas have enough space to accommodate the four of them out there?”
“They’ve got three huge bedrooms,” he told her, “and you’ve seen how high the ceilings are downstairs. Uncle Doug always claims there’s an echo in the place whenever anybody walks in and says, ‘Hello!’ No, I think our parents couldn’t bump into each other if they tried.”
Maura Beth turned from the dishes and caught Jeremy’s gaze firmly. Neither of them was afraid to look the other straight in the eye when something important needed to be said. “I want you to understand one thing, though. You and I will bend over backward to welcome my parents and try to assure them that we know what we’re doing. But if they still balk when all is said and done, it won’t change my mind about our marriage. Sure, it would be nice to have their blessing. But if that doesn’t happen, it’s their loss. Not to mention, it’s our life.”