The Cherry Cola Book Club (23 page)

Maura Beth watched the three of them leave the building, while the Scarlett side of her that she had been cultivating so meticulously seethed with frustration. “Just don't count me out!” she exclaimed finally.

“I never have!” Councilman Sparks returned just before making his exit.

Some of the crowd moved forward to chat with and console Maura Beth, but the words seemed to blend together after a while. One remark stood out, however, when Jeremy said, “I truly wish I could stay a little longer to help you figure out what to do next, but I have to drive the boys over to the hotel in Corinth. Burke Williams wanted to say something to you before we left, though.”

The lanky young poet approached Maura Beth shyly, barely able to look her in the eye, but his message struck home. “I hope you don't think this is out of left field, Miz Mayhew, but I keep thinking about the character of Boo Radley in
To Kill a Mockingbird.
How he quietly saved the day there at the end when everything seemed so desperate, I mean. Maybe someone or something like that will happen for you and your library so you'll stay open.”

Maura Beth gave him a hug and smiled as he blushed crimson. “Thank you for that, young man.” Then she pulled back and turned to Jeremy. “And thank you for bringing these bright young students of yours to The Cherry Cola Book Club. To know that they exist, caring about literature the way they do, gladdens this librarian's heart.”

 

Most of the people left shortly after the unexpected showdown between Councilman Sparks and Maura Beth, but the Brachles, McShays, Locke Linwood, Miss Voncille, and Periwinkle had remained for an impromptu strategy session. Mr. Place wanted to participate as well, but his mother had grown a bit weary, so he understandably drove her home after wishing the core of the book club the best of luck.

“We've got City Hall on the defensive,” Maura Beth was explaining to the group gathered around the meeting room table with their serious demeanors in place. “But we can't let up. All of that testimony we heard tonight on the library's behalf was terrific and reassuring, but what we need now is signatures. I say we circulate petitions to keep the library open and then present it to the City Council. Those signatures represent votes, and if I know anything about politicians, they'll pay attention to that when they ignore everything else.”

Connie was the first to come on board with enthusiasm. “Absolutely. And we have the perfect starter list, since we asked everyone to write their names, phone numbers, and e-mail addresses on the bulletin board sheet. They can be our first contacts.”

Maura Beth smiled and shook her head at the same time. “Well, not quite, Connie. Our patron list will be our first call. But tonight's list won't be far behind.”

The suggestion gathered further momentum. “I could put up one petition at The Twinkle,” Periwinkle added. “And we could ask the other businesses that have been helping us out with the publicity to do the same.”

Maura Beth brightened further. “I bet James Hannigan will make more
P.A.
announcements for us at The Cherico Market. He's a sweetheart, and he really rounded up his troops tonight. I nearly cried when he told that story about his mother.”

“Same here,” Becca added. “But we'll publicize the petitions on the show, won't we, Stout Fella?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answered in his most playful tone.

“And I was serious about contacting my former students,” Miss Voncille added. “I've kept in touch with some of the ones that never left Cherico.”

“Every signature counts,” Maura Beth answered.

“Was it just me, or did y'all think that Councilman Sparks might have softened up there at the end?” Douglas wanted to know.

Maura Beth looked amused and caught his gaze, every inch a Scarlett sizing up a formidable situation. “Douglas, that man is a piece of work. I've dealt with him for six years now, and he has agendas coming out the wazoo. We can't go by what he said tonight because the truth is, I've never seen him not get his way. He's hell-bent on creating that industrial park for his greater glory, so it's my opinion that we need to impress him where he lives and breathes. And that, my friends, is with the votes he prizes above everything else. Those signatures are our best shot at keeping this library open.”

Locke Linwood pounded his fist on the table for emphasis. “I'm all in. I can contact all my former life insurance customers here in Cherico. You know, I was pretty good at selling policies all those years.”

“Go for it, Mr. Linwood!” Maura Beth exclaimed, giving him a wink.

Connie and Douglas exchanged glances, and he said, “We don't know that many people, but we'll keep our neighbors in the loop. They were interested enough to show up tonight, so I don't see why they won't help us out with this. They could certainly network with their friends who care about the library.”

“You just design those petitions, and I'll have them printed up for you,” Connie added.

Maura Beth took a deep breath while she quickly scanned the room, admiring her very own fearless army of library soldiers. That was yet another course they should have taught in library school—Introduction to Going to War for the Patrons. “I couldn't ask for more support, but we simply can't fail in this. When that budget is approved a couple of weeks from now, the library must not be removed as a line item.” There was momentary silence, but then Maura Beth summed it all up. “We're The Cherry Cola Book Club, and we're just not going to let that happen.”

T
he instant Maura Beth opened the front door of the library the next morning, she found herself entertaining a dark premise. What if all the petitions they were about to circulate failed to excite people or made no difference, no matter what? In that case, this carefully cultivated turf of hers would suddenly become alien terrain. It would no longer be hers to manage and manipulate, to try and improve, or simply to inhabit with professional pride. Six years of hard, mostly thankless work would then be discarded like dead flowers in a vase of stale, discolored water.

But when she plunked herself down at her desk a few minutes later, she chided herself out loud for her pessimistic ramblings. “You, Maura Beth Mayhew, are being most un-Scarlett-like today. Have you no confidence in your ability to pull this out of the fire and keep the enemy at bay?”

Perhaps the long-distance conversation she'd had with her mother when she'd gotten home from the confrontation with Councilman Sparks the evening before had coaxed her doubts out of hiding. “Come on home, honey, just come on home,” her mother had said in response to hearing about the possibility of Maura Beth losing her job. “You can find something better down here where you're closer to your family. We've all missed you so much. Just pack your bags and come back where you belong. You know we'll take care of you.”

Maura Beth had long known that William and Cara Lynn Mayhew had never approved of her moving to North Mississippi, especially when she had told them what she would be earning. Apparently, it had never occurred to them that they should be thrilled she had gotten a directorship on the heels of her graduation, applauding her moxie.

Instead, “We'll send you money anytime” had been their initial mantra; followed by the overly dramatic, “Don't worry about getting by. No child of ours is going to clip coupons and go to thrift shops.”

Except for the rust-colored sofa—which she had not asked for—and the brass bed—which she had—Maura Beth had resisted financial assistance from her parents. Cherico was her big chance to prove herself, to make a mark on her own. Now she must bear down harder than ever if she intended to achieve the goals on page twenty-five of her college journal.

She had, in fact, just hung up with Connie about the logistics of putting the petition together when Renette knocked at her door and asked to speak with her.

“What's on your mind?” Maura Beth said, once Renette had taken her seat.

“It's what happened last night at the book club meeting,” she began, hanging her head. “I never realized politicians could be so scary.”

“Dealing with Councilman Sparks in particular is never easy,” Maura Beth explained. “Don't let him upset you, although I realize you haven't had as much practice as I have.”

But Renette started tearing up anyway. “It's just that if the library does close down—well, I know it will be hard on you. I've seen how much running this library has meant to you. I've seen how hard you've worked at it, and it's inspired me to be the very best front desk clerk Cherico's ever had. Plus, I'll never find a boss as good as you are if I have to get another job.”

Maura Beth quickly explained the decision to create the petitions and then moved to Renette to give her a warm hug. “That's sweet of you to worry about me, but you may not even have to do any job hunting. But if the worst happens and you do, you'll probably find a boss that's even better. Now I want you to run to the ladies' room and dry your eyes. After all, we're still up and running, and you're the first impression our patrons get when they walk into the lobby. We don't want them thinking you've been up all night crying. Oh, and get those girlfriends of yours to come in and sign that petition in the next two weeks. And tell them to tell their friends, too.”

Renette smiled even as she sniffled. “When are you going to put it up on the bulletin board? Seems like every minute counts.”

“Connie McShay is having it printed and copied later today,” Maura Beth told her. “She'll be dropping by to tack it up. Then the countdown begins.”

After a couple of hours had passed, Maura Beth was pulled away from her petition networking by another knock at her door. “Come in,” she announced, wondering if Renette needed further reassurance.

But it was loyal, matronly Emma Frost who appeared instead. “Excuse me, Miz Mayhew. I know I'm prob'ly intruding, but Renette called me up this morning to tell me what went on here last night. I'm sorry I couldn't come, but my husband has a real bad cold, and I don't want it to go into the flu. We just can't afford to have him miss any more workdays. So I had him all bundled up last night, stuffing him with my best home remedies. I know it's not my day to be here, but I just couldn't let this news about the library pass without coming in to say something to you.”

“I completely understand. But have a seat for a minute.” After Emma had pulled up her chair, Maura Beth continued, “I trust Renette didn't tell you that the library was definitely being closed.”

Emma worked her hands into a nervous tangle as she spoke. “Well, I sorta got that impression. And I know we've had our share of days without a soul showing up, but I need this job in the worst way to help my family make ends meet. Do you think we really will be shut down?”

Maura Beth gave her an engaging smile, realizing that this was definitely an occasion to bring out the best of both Melanie and Scarlett as she had once promised to do. “You have faith, Emma. We'll do everything we can over the next two weeks to prevent that from happening with the petitions we're circulating. Meanwhile, there's something you can do to help. Tell all your family and friends to come to the library and sign that petition to keep it open. You march straight home and get things started.”

Emma thanked her for the pep talk and left, after which Maura Beth sat back in her chair with a sense of accomplishment. She and her staff must keep it together and plug away at the end game. In fact, every member of The Cherry Cola Book Club must meet that challenge without flinching.

 

Connie and Douglas McShay were sitting in front of their great room fire discussing their efforts on behalf of the library exactly one week before the budget approval.

“There's got to be more we can do,” Connie was saying, frustration creeping into her voice. “We've got everyone we know out here covered, but that's only half a dozen people. Maybe a dozen if the Brimleys, the Milners, and the Paxtons follow up with a few of their friends.”

Douglas gave her a little hiccup of a chuckle and wagged his brows. “Surely you're not suggesting we go around badgering strangers at their front doors like Jehovah's Witnesses?”

She punched his arm playfully and snickered. “No, but Maura Beth actually
is
going door-to-door on Commerce Street. I offered to help, but she insisted she had it covered. Meanwhile, Becca and Stout Fella are mentioning the petition every day on the radio show, Miss Voncille and Locke Linwood say they've heard from lots of her students and his customers, and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Douglas said, holding his hand up in surrender. “Listen, it's not like we haven't pitched in all along. We've paid for posters and flyers and printing up the petition and that monster seafood party we had out here. I don't think you should be beating yourself up as if you've done nothing.”

Connie shrugged with a pleasant smile. “I'm not really. I just want to collect as many signatures as I can for Maura Beth.” Suddenly, she snapped her fingers and bore into him with her eyes. “Of course. The Marina Bar and Grill. At last, something useful will come of your haunting that place.”

“Haunting? Come on, I go for an occasional beer, that's all,” he insisted.

“Do they like you out there?”

He drew back in disbelief. “Uh—yeah. I'm not the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Although I felt like it sometimes in the courtroom.”

“I've been thinking about that since we retired here,” she began, gently rubbing his arm. “I guess all this fishing really does help you forget some of the legal stunts you had to pull over the years.”

Douglas looked suddenly uncomfortable, and he did not answer her for a while. “I suppose you could make a case for that. A guy can put up with only so much stress in his life, you know; and it's not like you didn't have plenty of it in the hospital day and night.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you've always had your books to read to keep yourself on an even keel, right?”

She nodded dramatically, widening her eyes. “Going to the library to check out my novels has always been my great escape. I get to explore someone else's mindset for a while. It's a very sane exercise. More people should try it.”

“So what do you want me to do out at The Marina Bar and Grill?”

“Ask the owner if you can put up the petition, at the very least,” she began. “And then talk it up with your drinking buddies. Well-lubricated people are more apt to listen to what you have to say.”

He gave her a little smirk. “Or forget it.”

“Never mind that. Don't you guys bond watching football games and other sports out there all the time?”

Douglas laughed out loud. “You make The Marina Bar and Grill sound like one of those tree houses that little boys build where little girls aren't allowed. There are wives and girlfriends on the premises. Women fish, too.”

“I can't believe you just said that!” she exclaimed, turning to face him directly now.

“Why? You don't believe me? You don't think women can bait hooks?”

“Don't be absurd. Of course I believe you. It was the perfect segue for something else I wanted to discuss with you. It's about the details of our retirement. I feel like we're leading two separate lives again, just the way we did in Nashville when we put everything we had into our careers. This was supposed to be a new start for us.”

“But I think last night at the library went well for us,” he pointed out. “Maybe not at the end there for Maura Beth with Councilman Sparks jumping down her throat the way he did, but you and I had a good time together, didn't we?”

“That begs the question. We still spend most of our time apart. You're out there with your beer and your fish, and I'm here inside waiting for you to get your fill. The truth is, the rain brings you in more often than the sound of my voice does. If this is the way it's going to be, I'd rather go back to Nashville where I had Susan and Paul and so many other friends to do things with.”

Douglas turned to her with a puzzled expression, briefly shutting one eye. “I thought you considered these Cherry Cola people your friends. You've just finished saying how much helping Maura Beth means to you. Matter of fact, I think we've both made some nice new friends in the book club. Paul and Susan like them, too.”

“They are our friends, and I'm thankful for them and the things we've done together. But they can't fill up all of my days or any of my nights. We can only expect so many visits from Lindy and Melissa or Susan and Paul. You and I have to manage the rest of the time together. Since we moved, it's almost like retiring has given us permission to stop working at our marriage.”

He folded his arms and made a brief hissing sound. “I don't think I'm such a slouch in bed, if that's what you're implying.”

“I'm not talking about that,” Connie said, throwing up her arms in frustration. “Your true passion now is fishing, and that wall of photos across the room is proof. Retiring down here has made me realize that I come second.”

“Now you're really exaggerating,” he said, the annoyance clearly evident in his voice. “But if you truly think that way, then let's talk about what we can do to turn that particular perception around.”

Connie straightened up, patted her hair, and surprised him with a pleasant grin on her face. “I thought you'd never ask. Here's what I'm proposing. I know you'll never be a reader the way I am, and two people can't read together anyway, except to sit in the same room and turn pages in silence. So, why don't you teach me how to fish? You've always said you needed a partner out there in
The Verdict
. Why not have a good time with your wife? I'm not too old to learn new tricks.”

He jerked to attention, almost as if he had been pricked with a needle. “You're serious? You'd actually be willing to learn about different baits and lures and how and where to cast? You know there's so much more to reading the water than most people think.”

“Well, I have to start somewhere. Maybe we'll both be reading together after all. Then we can negotiate what else we can do with our retirement from my point of view.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it affectionately, followed by a sweet little kiss. “I can handle that. So, being the reader that you are, can you tell me if we're back on the same page again as husband and wife?”

Connie chuckled softly even as she pulled back. “I'm going to say yes, but with an important caveat.”

“And what's that?”

“You take over cleaning what we catch and keep for a while. I'm so over fish guts, it's not funny.”

“You got it,” he said without a moment's hesitation. Then he extended his hand and they shook on it firmly. “Meanwhile, I'll take one of the petitions out to the lake this afternoon to Harlan Lattimore. Why don't you come with me and make friends with a few of the women? Who knows? Maybe some of them will even be readers, and you can talk best sellers.”