A Cherry Cola Christmas (19 page)

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.”

Once again the room exploded with appreciative applause as Maura Beth and Councilman Sparks firmly shook hands and then briefly embraced. It appeared that a new era in Cherico had begun at long last.

Surprisingly, Chunky Badham stepped up to the mike, looking slightly comical in his elaborate Wise Man outfit. There was way too much shiny blue fabric covering him, resembling a floor-length evening gown that had not been fitted properly, and the turban atop his head looked like it might fall off any second. But he quickly got down to business with his comments.

“I just wanted to say,” he began, “that Durden Sparks, he's always been my role model for gettin' things done in our little town of Greater Cherico, as we like to call it. I think it's best to know your limitations in life, and I learned early on when I got into politics that I was a follower, not a leader. That's been Durden's gift to me. Delegatin' what he knew I could do best. My wife and kids've had security because a' that, and I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank him publicly for it.” Polite applause immediately followed.

Apparently inspired by Chunky's testimonial, Gopher Joe Martin—whose silvery Wise Man costume fit him way too snugly—motioned for the mike next. “As long as we're handin' out kudos here at Christmastime, I wanted to tell all a' y'all about somethin' Durden did for me and my family one time. My wife, Lydia, well, she got real sick a few years back. Woman's troubles that I'm sure I don't have to go into, ya know. Well, I got so in the red with it all that I couldn't even afford the insurance deductibles. But Durden—well, he took care of 'em out of his own pocket. Lydia and I've never forgotten his kindness.” He gestured toward his wife out in the audience. “Raise your hand, honey. Let 'em know you're still healthy and happy—and we're solvent because a' Durden. Come on now, don't be shy. We're among good friends here.”

Lydia Martin, a plump, middle-aged woman with helmet hair sprouting reindeer antlers, put her hand up, tentatively at first, but then waved it vigorously to the applause and buzzing of the room.

Councilman Sparks took the mike from Gopher Joe and seemed at a loss for words for what may have been a first during his lengthy political career. “Well . . . umm . . . fellas . . . you really surprised me with all that . . .”

“Don't be embarrassed, Durden!” a voice from the crowd cried out. “I have something I'd like to say myself!”

Mamie Crumpton stepped up in her “large nutcracker” outfit and seized the mike. “The Crumpton family has long been indebted to Charles Durden Sparks. Our families go way back, and our houses are practically next to each other on Perry Street. But that's not the point. There are things that our good councilman has done for Cherico that he never mentions because he just thinks it's part of his job. Taking care of our little town, that is. He's gotten streets and roads paved that were falling apart, he's taken trips at his own expense to visit company CEOs in an effort to get them to move their plants here, and on a personal note . . .”

She paused for an awkward length of time but finally cleared her throat, heaved her chest, and resumed. “Well, the truth is—and my sister, Marydell, doesn't even know about this—I had made some investments with a broker up in Memphis a few years ago who was—well, he was a con artist is what he was—a snake-oil salesman if there ever was one. And he was about to abscond with a huge chunk of the money our parents had left us. When I told Durden about it, he took it upon himself to go up there in person and put the fear of God in this man. To make a long story short, we got our money back. So what I'm trying to say is that come hell or high water, Durden Sparks does care about Cherico, whether they have a little money or lots of money. He's told me more than once that he only wants to be a good steward for us, and I believe that's what he's tried to be to the best of his ability.” Mamie quickly handed over the mike. “And that's all I wanted to say.”

Councilman Sparks momentarily looked stumped, managing a weak smile as the room continued to buzz. “Well . . . that was a mouthful, Mamie. I'm not sure I completely measure up. I'm no George Bailey, you know. Maybe some of you have even thought of me as Mr. Potter now and then. There have even been times lately where I've had a bad day or two and doubted my effectiveness.”

Mamie shook her head vigorously, wagging her finger for emphasis. “Nonsense, Durden Sparks. You're the first person everyone looks to when there's a crisis. They expect you to have all the answers, even if you don't. Every town should have someone like you looking after it.”

Finally, Councilman Sparks came to his senses as his old mojo kicked in. “Well, I'm all about the legacy my father and Layton Duddney left me a long time ago, and that's the truth. From the beginning, I've always been determined to make something out of Cherico one way or another. Maybe I've made my share of mistakes, but I've also learned from 'em.”

Waddell Mack chimed in, enthusiastically patting the councilman on the shoulder. “I like the way you romanced your little town to try and get Spurs 'R' Us to locate here, and by gosh darn, you did it. So I'll be right proud to call it my second home from here on out, or these boots I'm wearin' tonight aren't bright red! Oh, and I'll plan on doin' at least two concerts a year down here in Cherico. And I'll donate all the proceeds to whatever project this little town needs doin' the most. You just let me know what it is, and I'll help you get it done. Now, how's that for a Christmas present to all a' you folks!?”

Out in the audience, Maura Beth was one of many who felt the spirit of the season bubbling up and spilling over. Wherever she looked, right and left, everyone returned her smile effortlessly. Why, she wondered with a certain sense of awe, couldn't it always be like this?

 

Maura Beth was propped up against her pillows, catching her breath after a very satisfying session of Christmas Eve lovemaking with her Jeremy. He was content to wind down in silence as well, staring over at her affectionately. Then she grabbed a sheet of paper from her nightstand and held it in front of her face, looking virtually mesmerized.

“Now what have you got there?” Jeremy asked, inching a bit closer to her to get a glimpse.

“It's the Christmas newsletter we received from Locke and Miss Voncille. It made quite an impression on me when it came a few days ago. I wanted to read it again before falling asleep tonight.”