The Cherry Cola Book Club

by Ashton Lee

  As other hands and voices were raised all over the room, Maura Beth shot up immediately, brandishing the folder she had been so jealously guarding. “Councilman Sparks!” she exclaimed, taking no chance of being overlooked.

  “Miz Mayhew?” he replied, refusing to match her urgent tone and careful to maintain his smile.

  “On behalf of many of the taxpayers of Cherico, I would like to present to you today this folder of petitions requesting that the City Council keep The Cherico Library open. I have taken the time to check the names and addresses of all the signatures on these various petitions and have found them to be residents of our town, each and every one. No made-up or dead people, no jokes, no fakes. These are the taxpayers you represent, and as you will see, I have calculated and compiled the total number on all the petitions for you. Eight hundred and three people have expressed their desire to see The Cherico Library stay open. These signatures came mostly from various businesses around town, all of which are well-known to you, as well as the library itself. Those eight hundred and three signatures represent almost half the number of registered voters in this town—one thousand six hundred forty-five, according to public records.”

  Councilman Sparks was having trouble keeping his smile in place. “That doesn’t necessarily mean those eight hundred or so are all actually registered voters. Some of them could even be children or teenagers.”

  “That might be true,” Maura Beth returned. “Although I think the underage signatures would probably be limited to the library. But in any case, children and teenagers grow up to be voters, Councilman. You above all should know that. Surely that’s not going to be your argument against these signatures.”

  His smile had completely disappeared now. “Hand me your folder, please.”

  She reached over and gave it to him, taking a moment before continuing. Here was Scarlett at her best, daring anyone to take advantage of her.

  “Furthermore, I’d like to say that the library’s present budget is hardly adequate, even for a town of five thousand. But as the director, I’m not asking for an increase or a raise—only to continue to do my job for the people of Cherico. We’ve initiated a number of events recently that have this town buzzing about the library. I hardly have to remind you of that since you’ve attended some of these meetings, such as The Cherry Cola Book Club. I urge you and the other councilmen not to turn your back on what is fast becoming a popular and valuable community resource.”

  “Listen to her, Durden!” Miss Voncille exclaimed, rising to her feet. “You can postpone that industrial park or find some other way to fund it. My parents always told me that there was some slush fund hanging around from the days the library started up originally. I believe there was some question as to what really happened to some of the money the women of the town donated at the time. Wasn’t your father on the Council back then? Being the historian that I am, I’m also quite sure that no one has ever bothered to look into that whole matter. As the saying goes, they just let it ride.”

  Councilman Sparks had gone from being supremely confident to actually looking uncomfortable for all the chamber to see. “Give me a few minutes, please,” he told her, sitting back down and thumbing through the petitions Maura Beth had presented to him. Then the folder was passed around to his cohorts. Finally, after the trio had huddled for a good five minutes with their backs to the crowd, Councilman Sparks turned and rose again, his best campaign smile restored to full glory.

  “It is the decision of the City Council to postpone the industrial park for another year and to fund The Cherico Library for the corresponding year—”

  Enthusiastic applause and cheering erupted across the room. Maura Beth jumped up, embracing Connie and Miss Voncille, who were sitting on either side of her, and the rest of the book club did the same with one another along the front row.

  “If I might continue!” Councilman Sparks cried out, and he had to repeat himself to gain the floor before the commotion died down. “Over the next year, we will be monitoring the library in hopes of seeing increased circulation figures and use of the meeting room facilities by the citizens of this town. It is to be understood that we will be reviewing funding of the library at this same time next year. For the time being, however, we cannot go against the will of the people in this regard.”

  “Thank you, Councilman,” Maura Beth said, nodding his way.

  “Please remember that this is a one-year reprieve, Miz Mayhew. There are no guarantees.”

  “I understand that. Or rather, Scarlett understands that.”

  She watched him struggling to keep his face from turning sour. Ever the politician, however, he somehow managed. But Maura Beth’s smile was genuine and full of the thrill of victory. Above all else, she had played the game and won.

  16

  A Family Feast

  Maura Beth was staring at the clock in her kitchenette and feeling like a million dollars. In less than ten minutes, she would be seeing Jeremy’s smiling face at her door, putting an end to their separation of more than two weeks. The time had come to celebrate the library’s recent victory over City Hall, and Jeremy was driving down from Nashville on this crisp November Saturday afternoon to help her do just that.

  He was on time precisely at three, as she expected a responsible schoolteacher would be. Being late for anything in that profession was a big no-no. When she opened the door to him in her lavender dress, the first words out of his mouth were, “You look amazingly beautiful!” He was standing there dazzled by her with a bouquet of gardenias in his hand.

  Maura Beth smiled and took the flowers, briefly inhaling their perfume as she admired his New Gallatin Academy navy blue blazer and red tie. “So do you, and so do these. Come on—I’m going to put them in water.”

  They headed over to the kitchenette together, and she pulled a large clear vase out of one of her cabinets. “What made you think of gardenias?” she continued, sticking the vase under the running faucet. “I absolutely love them. They’re so delicate.”

  “A conceit from an English major, I guess,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders and looking utterly charming in the process. “Gardenias, like women, bruise easily, but that never takes away their beauty or their fragrance.”

  She smiled brightly as she finished arranging the flowers and found a spot for them on the counter. “No wonder your students like you so much. I would have loved to have had a teacher like you.”

  Jeremy pointed to his watch and wagged his brows. “We better scoot. We don’t want to be late.”

  Once they were on their way, Maura Beth shifted into an even more flirtatious gear. “I wanted to tell you just how much all your calls and e-mails have meant to me these past two weeks. I was under such pressure, I don’t think I could have made it through without you. Today, I was half expecting you to show up in shining armor.”

  He drove for another quarter mile or so toward town before turning briefly to snap his fingers. “Darn it! I knew I forgot something!”

  She reached over and gently rubbed his arm several times. “Never fear. The flowers did the trick just fine.”

  They had reached Commerce Street now, and Jeremy began searching for a parking space. “Small town, not much parking,” he observed as they passed The Twinkle. They waved to Becca and Stout Fella as they were walking down the sidewalk toward the restaurant for the grand celebration.

  “They obviously found one somewhere around here,” Maura Beth answered. “I don’t mind walking a bit, do you?”

  He turned the corner and was immediately rewarded with a space on the right side of the street. “Not at all. We can get a head start on working off this wonderful feast Miz Lattimore has fixed for all of us.”

  “This is where it all began a few months back,” Connie was saying as she and Maura Beth were sitting at one of The Twinkle’s corner tables sipping their wine. “I remember dashing in to pick up my aspics that blazing June afternoon and mentioning The Music City Page Turners to you.”

&nbs
p; “Ah, yes,” Maura Beth mused. “We almost became The Cherico Page Turners, didn’t we? By the way, you must bring your granddaughter down sometime from Memphis. I’d like very much to meet the little sweetheart, since she ended up changing our name.”

  “Lindy almost came down with her for our meeting last Sunday, but Melissa wasn’t feeling well at the last minute. Some bad cough that just wouldn’t go away,” Connie explained. “But don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of time now for her to shake your hand and take full credit.”

  Periwinkle headed over to the table with the bottle of good Merlot she was offering to the group, lingering briefly. “Are we all still sufficiently wined up here?”

  “I think I’d like another swallow or two,” Maura Beth said, feeling on the wild and wooly side.

  Periwinkle poured a little more into her glass and wagged her brows. “I see your adorable designated driver not having any over there across the room. Are you and Jeremy definitely becoming an item?”

  Maura Beth gave Connie a conspiratorial glance and said, “We’re going to be working at it, I think. So you can retire your camera phone.”

  “No way, Jose. I’m still looking, remember?”

  A few minutes later it was time for every member of The Cherry Cola Book Club to take their seats around the big table Periwinkle had configured out of two smaller ones. “Mr. Place and I will join you after we’ve served the first course,” she told them.

  Maura Beth perked up and ran her tongue over her lips. “Icepick salad?”

  “What else would I serve?”

  “Now you’re talking!” Douglas exclaimed. “I think we’ve practically lived on that since we moved down here.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Connie added. “I wish The Twinkle had a delivery service.”

  “Not a bad suggestion. I’ll think about it,” Periwinkle said, nudging her gently.

  Over Periwinkle’s entrée of grilled salmon with dill sauce, the conversation turned toward the next meeting of The Cherry Cola Book Club.

  “I don’t suppose we’ve selected our next novel, have we?” Miss Voncille inquired.

  Maura Beth’s sigh clearly contained a hint of frustration. “How could we? We never seem to be able to finish the one we’re reading. Something earthshaking always happens and sends us to the exits. But I think things will settle down now. Anyone got a brilliant suggestion?”

  Connie was first up. “Something by Eudora Welty? Or have we put Harper Lee to bed?”

  “I think we’ve had enough of Mockingbird,” Becca observed. “Not that it wasn’t overflowing with drama and portent from the very beginning.”

  “Sorry about that,” Stout Fella added.

  “No, no, no,” Maura Beth continued, wagging a finger. “Your little incident, if you will, brought us all closer together.”

  Becca put down her fork and chuckled. “You might even say our friendships ballooned from there.”

  There was laughter all around; then the subject of the next novel resurfaced quickly. “Seriously, though,” Connie offered, “what about Eudora Welty? We had quite a session up in Nashville with The Robber Bridegroom. Specifically, is it or is it not a fairy tale?”

  “I definitely like that theme,” Maura Beth replied. “What do the rest of you think?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Locke Linwood put in while Miss Voncille nodded approvingly.

  One by one, the others agreed to the choice, and Maura Beth declared that the subject of the January session of The Cherry Cola Book Club had been decided. “And this isn’t exactly a prayer, but may we get through it without interruption this time around.”

  Then slices of one of Mr. Place’s scrumptious desserts, Mississippi mud pie, came out to put an exclamation point on the meal.

  “I can see myself getting addicted to this,” Jeremy was saying after his first bite. “Kudos to you, Mr. Place.”

  “My pleasure,” he returned, smiling graciously.

  As everyone was finishing up their pie and coffee, Maura Beth rose from her seat with her wineglass in hand. “I don’t know why we didn’t do this before the appetizers, but I’d like to make a toast, please.” She waited for the group to stand up and hoist their glasses before continuing. “I can’t tell you how grateful I will always be to all of you for your generosity of spirit in standing behind me and the library. The thing is, I truly believe that we have already become more than just an ordinary book club. We’ve gotten involved in each other’s lives in ways that we would never have expected—and without even half trying. It just seems to have evolved naturally, as if something we don’t fully understand has been driving it and making sure that we all stay connected. You’re like a real family to me.” She surveyed the table once more and smiled. “I’ve been told I can go to a long-winded, hammy place at times, and I hope I haven’t overstated my case just now. But I think the future looks so much brighter than it did last week, and I want to thank you all again from the bottom of my heart for helping to make it possible.”

  Everyone leaned this way and that to clink rims and sip, and there were lots of cheerful responses such as, “It was our pleasure,” and “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” to go around.

  “And, Periwinkle,” Maura Beth continued after all the commotion had finally died down, “you outdid yourself this afternoon with this very special dinner. So, long live both The Cherry Cola Book Club and The Twinkle!”

  There was more clinking and sipping; then Periwinkle added the capper, gazing around with great pride at all her fanciful spinning mobiles. “The one and only Restaurant of the Stars!”

  “I’m already settled in with Aunt Connie and Uncle Doug at the lodge for tonight, but they told me they weren’t coming straight home,” Jeremy explained as he and Maura Beth drove through town in the general direction of the lake house. “There were a few logs blazing when I left to pick you up. Would you like to sit and watch them turn to soot together for a while?”

  She reached over and patted his knee a few times. “I think I’d like that very much.”

  “I know that I don’t want to rush things,” he continued, “but I’ve always liked telling stories by the fire, ever since I was eleven having a blast at summer camp on Lookout Mountain. It was always chilly after nightfall up there, and it was easy to imagine monsters lurking in the woods as the counselors would try and scare us with their spooky voices and tall tales. I remember everything from deranged farmers on out-of-control tractors to maniacal lumberjacks running around the forests sawing people in half while they were sealed up tight in their sleeping bags. None of us slept a wink after that one. I guess boys grow up with a lot more visceral thoughts in their heads.”

  Maura Beth had a resigned expression on her face. “I’m afraid my experience at summer camp was a lot tamer. Just us girls allowed, and the most daring thing we ever discussed was makeup and who was being allowed to use it. Or who wasn’t and why. The whole summer was an all-out ‘my mother is a monster’ vent, so in that respect, there was a bit more drama than I first remembered.”

  They drove on along the two-lane road that wound its way to the lake from the outskirts of town. There was a full moon rising ahead of them, filling up the windshield with such luster and swollen size that it appeared the night had been completely vanquished, difficult to detect even with peripheral vision. There was only the prospect of looking up into the heavens and wanting to drive straight up to eternity immediately. It was all mesmerizing and therefore distracting.

  “Oh, my God, here comes Peter Cottontail!” Jeremy suddenly exclaimed, swerving the car slightly to avoid a rabbit scampering across to the safety of the opposite shoulder.

  “I’m so glad you missed him,” Maura Beth said, smiling gratefully. “If it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird, I’m sure I’d feel even worse about being a party to flattening a bunny rabbit.”

  Jeremy waited for the slight rush of adrenaline his wildlife encounter had produced to subside. “No hint of roadkill here. I’m quic
k at the wheel. I’ve even been known to brake for falling leaves.”

  Maura Beth sighed quite audibly. “Oh, brother!”

  “A little too poetic?”

  She just smiled and raised her eyebrows, enjoying the ride.

  He pressed on. “I’d really like to know what you’re thinking right now, though.”

  Once again, she sat there, looking mysterious and utterly irresistible. “We’ll get to the details later on. For now, I’ll just tell you that I was thinking happily about page twenty-five.”

  Recipes for Loyal, Hungry Readers

  No trip to Cherico, Mississippi, and the inner workings of The Cherry Cola Book Club would be complete without a few convenient recipes so that readers can duplicate the delicious dishes of some of their favorite characters. For sampling at your leisure, therefore, we present the following pages as lagniappe in hopes that you will enjoy many a satisfying meal with all good wishes in the years to come. Just turn the pages, pick out something you like, and get cooking!

  Becca Broccoli’s Easy Peasy Chicken Spaghetti

  Ingredients you will need:

  1 whole chicken

  1 package of thin spaghetti

  1 stick of butter

  1 chopped onion

  ½ cup chopped green pepper

  1 cup chopped celery

  1 large can of mushroom soup

  1 can of diced pimentos

  2 cups grated cheddar cheese

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Cook chicken in salted water until tender. Remove chicken and dice the meat. Use chicken broth to cook spaghetti until tender. Sauté butter, onion, green pepper, and celery until onions are translucent. Add veggies to pasta; then add large can of mushroom soup, chicken, and pimentos; pour into casserole dish and sprinkle cheese over top. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit until golden bubbly.