A Cherry Cola Christmas

by Ashton Lee

  “What’s your hurry, Maurie? As you said, who knows what Councilman Sparks is up to with this party?”

  To be sure, all sorts of thoughts were swirling through Maura Beth’s head as she sat down to apply the finishing touches to her makeup. For the first time ever, she was considering the possibility that Councilman Sparks was actually doing something nice for everyone without expecting anything in return. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head? After all, he and the entire town of Cherico had been euphoric for a week now over the decision that Dillard Mills had made to locate the new Spurs ’R’ Us plant in their little community after all—thanks to the decisive and timely intervention of Waddell Mack. The economic ripple effect had been almost immediate, causing Audra Neely to reverse her decision to close down her antique boutique and tough it out a little longer with the promise of new jobs and new citizens arriving as her incentive; Justin Brachle had further reported that Spurs ’R’ Us was interested in acquiring property out at the lake to build a new apartment complex in order to provide affordable housing for prospective employees. That, in turn, would benefit the local construction industry, and things would trickle on down from there.

  “Well, you have to admit that fortunes have changed for the better here in Cherico, Jeremy,” Maura Beth replied. “And I have this gut feeling that our Councilman Sparks isn’t conducting business as usual these days. I guess we’ll never really know what went on at the hospital that night, but if he’s learned a little humility as well as what true cooperation is all about as a result, then I’ll go to his party, kick up my heels, and drink a toast to the future.”

  Jeremy’s expression remained on the skeptical side, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood for an argument with his wife. “I’d have to agree it would be a trip if you and Councilman Sparks were able to declare a truce once and for all. There’s been way too much energy spent on unnecessary scheming—on his part, of course. You’ve just tried to parry the blows.”

  “Yep, you’re absolutely right,” she told him while standing up and lightly spritzing her neck with perfume. “It would definitely be a wonderful present to find under the tree.” Then she gave a little gasp. “Oh, and don’t forgot to act surprised when Periwinkle and Mr. Place announce their engagement tonight. She phoned me this afternoon and said this was going to be their time to finally go public with everything. It’ll certainly be a relief to have it out in the open at last and not have to keep it a secret anymore.”

  He nodded and quickly crossed his heart. “I promise. And I certainly hope everyone is gracious to them when they get the news.”

  “Don’t be silly. This is the twenty-first century. Periwinkle and Mr. Place are the best of Cherico.”

  His tone was hopeful. “And Christmas is always the perfect time for people to act on their better nature.”

  Maura Beth had never seen City Hall’s Multi-Purpose Event Room this spruced up before. Full of drab, faux-wood paneling and ordinarily reserved for “rubber chicken” awards dinners of a civic nature, it was now in full Christmas drag; there were great holly wreaths at the windows, white votive candles on all the tables, an enormous, fully decorated tree with blinking white lights in one corner of the room, and the scent of pine in the air for that essential holiday touch. Not to mention an instrumental version of “Sleigh Ride” playing in the background as Mr. and Mrs. Jeremy McShay presented their invitation at the door to Councilman Sparks’s secretary, Mrs. Lottie Howard—wearing bifocals, a white wig, and a red and white dress with Mrs. Santa embroidered across her ample chest.

  “Ho, ho, ho, and Merry Christmas. So glad you two could make it,” Lottie told them with an easy smile. “Come right on in . . . have some eggnog or fruitcake or sugar cookies . . . or maybe some bourbon balls and mingle to the jingle.” Obviously taken with her rhyming prose, Lottie burst into giggles like a schoolgirl. “Couldn’t help myself. I’ve already had a little eggnog, you know . . . well, more than a little, if you wanna know the truth. And, yes . . . I can definitely vouch for the fact . . . it’s spiked. Oh, and the bourbon balls . . . well, they’ve got a kick, too.”

  Maura Beth returned the smile but backed up a bit as the whiskey on Lottie’s breath hit her nostrils. “I never would have guessed.”

  Then Lottie cleared her throat and assumed a more serious demeanor, even though she was obviously still under the influence. “Councilman Sparks . . . asked me to tell you to be sure and track him down when you got here. He . . . uh . . . especially wanted to speak to you tonight. Of course, I have no idea what it’s about. Not even a little bit. Because . . . he’s been acting so peculiar lately . . . and by that I mean he’s been downright pleasant to be around at the office. Yes . . . it’s true. It’s been quite a while since he’s barked at me about anything the way he usually does. Why, it’s almost seemed like a Christmas present to me . . . from him, of course.” She suppressed a small belch. “Do you . . . think maybe I should write him a little thank-you note?” She giggled again and wagged her brows in exaggerated fashion.

  “Well, that’s up to you, Lottie. But I wouldn’t even think of missing the opportunity to find out what’s on the good councilman’s mind,” Maura Beth answered. “This whole thing tonight—this party—it’s most unexpected.”

  Lottie looked around briefly, then leaned in and lowered her voice just above a whisper. “Isn’t it, though? Why . . . I nearly fell out of my chair when he gave me a list of things to go out and buy for . . . umm . . . the decorations. You know . . . I even asked him why he was doing this, since it’s never happened before. It really hasn’t. And . . . guess what? He wouldn’t tell me a thing. Uh . . . nothing. But . . . I think he’s gonna make some kinda speech tonight.”

  “No doubt. I can’t remember a time when he hasn’t on these auspicious public occasions.” Then Maura Beth caught sight of Justin and Becca Brachle over by the eggnog table and waved at them, giving her the excuse to escape Lottie’s incessant meanderings. “Well, I do believe it’s high time for us to go and do a little of that mingling you mentioned, Lottie.” And then she and Jeremy headed over to greet the Brachles.

  “Merry Christmas, you two. And I like those antlers on your heads, Becca,” Maura Beth said as they reached the table.

  Becca smirked and pointed to her husband, who was taking a generous swig of his eggnog. “Merry Christmas right back to you. And, by the way, this was my Stout Fella’s idea of a costume. I went along with it because I really couldn’t find anything that looked halfway Christmas-y in maternity clothes. Everything I tried on made me look like a gigantic maraschino cherry.”

  Everyone laughed as the two men shook hands; then Jeremy ladled two cups of eggnog, handing Maura Beth hers. “Well, what’s the latest on your blessed event, my real-estate friend?” Jeremy wanted to know. “You two still on schedule for mid-January?”

  Justin shrugged. “It might be before then, though, the doctor says. Because of that false alarm and Becca’s bladder infection, he says he won’t rule out the possibility of doing a C-section to make sure nothing happens. Not that he thinks anything will. It’s just that we all want him to get here safely, you know.”

  Jeremy exchanged glances with Maura Beth. “Him?”

  Becca spoke up quickly. “Well, we both finally broke down and went for it. We told the doctor we just couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. So, yes, we’re having a little boy—Mark Grantham Brachle.”

  “If he weighs as much as I did when I arrived in my birthday suit, he’ll be one big boy,” Justin proclaimed, standing tall and looking every inch the proud father. “Hey, my Becca dudd’n call me Stout Fella for nothin’, you know!”

  Congratulations, hugs, and handshakes quickly followed between the two couples, and Maura Beth said, “You should have included such exciting news in your Christmas cards, especially to his godmother.”

  “Oh, I would have, but I’d already mailed them before we found out, sweetie,” Becca explained, keeping the smile in her voice. “But we’re going to spr
ead the news right here at this party, and you’re practically the first to know. We’re so excited to have you as Mark’s godmother, of course. We couldn’t possibly have picked anyone better for the job.”

  Maura Beth winked. “You might as well know that I’m absolutely going to spoil him. Plus, I promise to attend every school play and athletic event he’s in.”

  “Why do you think Justin and I chose you?”

  “Fair enough.”

  Just then, Miss Voncille and Locke Linwood walked up, formally dressed but without a hint of a Christmas theme to their apparel.

  “What, no costumes tonight?” Maura Beth asked, after everyone had exchanged greetings.

  Miss Voncille managed an impish grin. “We opted for the optional option on the invitation. I’m afraid we’re just not the type of couple that goes in for cutesy, right, Locke?”

  “My beautiful and sensible wife speaks the truth. When you come right down to it, we’re just two old fuddy-duddies,” he answered, nudging her affectionately. “My tuxedo and her gold cocktail dress will just have to do.”

  “You most certainly are not fuddy-duddies!” Maura Beth protested. “I think the two of you are an inspiration to those of us who believe in second-chance romance, and I won’t hear anything to the contrary.”

  Then Becca shared her news about the baby with Locke and Miss Voncille, and there were more congratulations all around. “It certainly seems to be a night for big news,” Miss Voncille added when the excitement had died down. “Periwinkle Lattimore and Mr. Place are going around announcing their engagement as we speak. They just told us over there by the Christmas tree. I’m very happy for them. They’ve made quite a success of The Twinkle together.”

  As promised, Jeremy sounded surprised and delighted. “Well, that is big news. I think we’ve all hoped they would finally make it official, and now they have. Good for them!”

  Maura Beth quickly backed him up. “I’m such a sucker for a good, old-fashioned romance. Of course, they’ve both been through so much lately. It’ll be nice to see them settled and helping each other out even more.”

  Then Maura Beth and Jeremy continued to make the rounds, encountering in order: Renette dressed as one of Santa’s diminutive elves; Marydell Crumpton in a long, flowing white gown and insisting she was The Ghost of Christmas Past; Mamie Crumpton, who caused Maura Beth to nearly do a spit take with her eggnog when she obliviously announced, “I’m a large nutcracker!”; Nora Duddney and her beau, Wally Denver, as Salvation Army bell ringers, thankfully with deadened clappers; Chunky Badham and Gopher Joe Martin, daring to describe themselves as two of the Three Wise Men—to Maura Beth’s great amusement; and Connie and Douglas McShay, duplicating the outfits of several others in attendance as Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.

  It was more than heartwarming to Maura Beth, however, to encounter Emma Frost with her Leonard on her arm—the two of them sporting a pair of red-and-white checkered Christmas sweaters that looked exactly like serviceable tablecloths at an Italian restaurant.

  “Oh, my,” Maura Beth said, embracing Emma warmly and then leaning in to give Leonard a peck on the cheek. “I didn’t think it would be possible for anyone to outdo what I’ve got on. But I do believe you and Leonard win the Christmas Sweater Contest hands down.”

  Emma looked around the room, obviously taking Maura Beth’s comment seriously. “Did we really win?”

  Maura Beth laughed spiritedly. “I was just joking, sweetie. But I think your costumes suit you both perfectly.”

  “We . . . won somethin’?” Leonard suddenly added, looking hopefully at his wife.

  “Not exactly,” Emma began. “It was just . . .” Then she exchanged smirks with Maura Beth. “Yes, Lenny, we did. Maura Beth says we won us the best costume at the party. How ’bout that?”

  “Heh. Good for us.”

  Maura Beth reached across and patted his hand. “Absolutely, Mr. Leonard. Good for you both.”

  “I’m glad Christmas is almost here,” Leonard said with a big smile. “I seem to remember things better this time of year.”

  All the socializing came to an end, however, when Councilman Sparks stepped up to the microphone with his Evie at his side. Somehow and somewhere, he had managed to find a red tuxedo with a green cummerbund and bow tie for the occasion, and she had matched his seasonal extravagance with a green silk evening gown dotted with bright red poinsettias.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, after clearing his throat several times. “If I may have your attention, please.” It took a bit longer for the various conversations to die down before Councilman Sparks launched into his prepared speech. “Evie and I are so delighted all of you could be here tonight for what we trust will become an annual event here in Cherico. We trust you will enjoy the food and drink and catch up with each other as the year comes to an end. For 2016 will be a time of great optimism in our little town by the lake. Construction has already begun on our new library out there, which is scheduled to open on the Fourth of July. And then, construction will begin in January on our new Spurs ’R’ Us cowboy boot plant, which will give our economy the boost it’s needed for a long time now. This time next year, Spurs ’R’ Us hopes to be rolling those boots off the assembly line, and that’ll give all of us a new lease on life. Greater Cherico will rise like a phoenix!”

  He was interrupted by generous applause. “I know, I know. Some of you here tonight could end up working for this great company in various capacities. And along those lines, I want to welcome our surprise special guest for this evening—one of the owners of Spurs ’R’ Us and a country music star in his own right.” Councilman Sparks raised his voice noticeably as he turned on his heels and gestured dramatically toward a door on the back wall. “Mr. Waddell Mack!”

  The country singer emerged on cue but was hardly recognizable. A wave of laughter accompanied the applause as Waddell Mack headed toward the councilman dressed in a slimmed-down Santa Claus outfit with a big red cowboy hat and matching red Spurs ’R’ Us cowboy boots. He was also carrying an acoustic guitar but had nixed the great white beard.

  “Howdy, folks!” he called out. “Or should I say, ‘Howdy Christmas to y’all!’?” He waited for the laughter to subside. “What I thought I’d do tonight is take some Christmas carol requests and then play and sing ’em for you. I know just about every one of ’em, since I’ve always been someone who loves the Christmas season. So, who wants to make the first request?”

  A forest of hands went up. Waddell quickly scanned the room, finally picking Maura Beth’s familiar face out of the crowd. Her request was “Away in a Manger.”

  “That’s one of my favorites, too,” he announced.

  Then the audience grew very quiet as he began strumming and singing. There was a simplicity to his acoustic stylings that evoked an immediate response in Maura Beth, which she whispered to Jeremy standing beside her.

  “I can almost smell the hay in the barn. He’s singing like he was there witnessing it all.”

  It was clear that Waddell had the entire room hanging on his every well-crafted, if slightly twangy note, and several requests followed: “Silent Night,” “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” and “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Waddell brought them all to life masterfully, rivaling the efforts of any church choir.

  Then, to everyone’s surprise, Leonard Frost raised his hand and his voice at the same time. “I’d like to hear . . . ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas,’ if you don’t mind.”

  “Why, Lenny!” Emma said, leaning in to him with all the affection she could muster. “You remembered it was always our favorite.”

  He winked at her. “Christmas . . . it makes me remember all the good things. They seem to . . . come back to me for a while.”

  And then Waddell came through with an interpretation for the ages. His inflections were sunny and welcoming, yet also conveying a depth of emotion. Practically everyone in the room knew about Leonard Frost’s Alzheimer’s, and smiling through tears became the fashion
of the moment. Except for Leonard himself, whose eyes remained dry and sparkling, his chin lifted proudly. Why, he looked like he’d won the lottery as he listened intently!

  When the impromptu concert was finally over to the appreciative applause of the gathering, Maura Beth took a deep breath and gently nudged her Jeremy. “Well, that was quite a workout, wasn’t it?”

  “Check out my tear ducts,” he told her, pointing to his face with a generous smile. “That man up there can really sing from the heart.”

  Councilman Sparks took control of the floor once again, taking a big, gold plastic key out of his pocket and brandishing it high above his head. “And now, will Miz Maura Beth McShay come forward, please?”

  Completely taken by surprise, Maura Beth shot Jeremy a puzzled glance but dutifully approached the microphone. “Miz McShay, I’m going to do something tonight that is long overdue. You and I, we haven’t always seen eye to eye on library issues these past few years. But I want it known publicly that Councilman Durden Sparks fully appreciates the efforts Maura Beth McShay has made to ensure that Cherico will be offering a first-class, state-of-the-art library to its citizens. For that reason I present to her this evening the key to the city of Cherico. Perhaps some of you will think this is only symbolic. But I want Miz McShay to know that my door will always be open to her and that she can expect the full cooperation of City Hall for the foreseeable future on any project she deems worthy.” Then with a little bow, he handed over the key to a blushing, speechless Maura Beth.

  It took her a while to compose herself, but she finally came through as she stood behind the mike. “I will try my best not to start off with something trite like, ‘I don’t know what to say.’ ”

  There was brief, muted laughter and then she continued. “Because I do know what to say. I accept this key in the spirit in which it was given. For a job well done. Since I came to Cherico nearly seven years ago, fresh out of college but without an ounce of real-world experience, it has been my goal to be the most professional librarian I could possibly be. And I do feel I’ve taken that to another level by working hard to bring a twenty-first-century library to Cherico. Mission accomplished. And I can’t wait for all of you here tonight to start using this great new facility next summer when we’ll open it with a flourish—fireworks and all.” She turned to face Councilman Sparks and nodded graciously. “Thank you for truly being on board with this project and for finally being aboveboard with me, Councilman. You have no idea what it means to me. I truly consider Cherico my home now.”