A Cherry Cola Christmas

 

 

“If Fannie Flagg and Jan Karon's Mitford were to come together, the end result might very well be Cherico, Mississippi. Ashton Lee has created a magical town with characters who will inspire readers and bring them back to a simpler time and place.”

—Michael Morris, author of
Man in the Blue Moon
and

 

“Down-home and delicious,
The Cherry Cola Book Club
combines everything we love about Southern cuisine, small-town grit, and the transformative power of books.”

—Beth Harbison,
New York Times
best-selling author

 

“Lee's buoyant David-versus-Goliath tale zestfully illuminates a real problem confronting libraries and cities of all sizes.”

—
Booklist

 

 

“Charm, wit, and a cast of characters so real they could be your next-door neighbors make
The Reading Circle
a surefire winner. Ashton Lee's authentic Southern voice shines in the latest addition to
The Cherry Cola Book Club
.”

—Peggy Webb,
USA Today
best-selling author

 

“Lee has crafted another pleasurable and diverting tale.”

—
RT Book Reviews

 

 

“
The Wedding Circle
is the perfect completion of librarian Maura Beth's adventures. I have loved immersing myself in the charm of Cherico's small-town doings and feel as if all the characters are people I know well. What a happy read!”

—Gloria Loring, singer, actress, and author

 

 

“
A Cherry Cola Christmas
is filled with the quirky, funny and charming characters we've grown to love and whose poignant tales become the true blessings of Christmas. This book belongs under every tree this season.”

—Christa Allan

 

“An intrepid librarian, a book club feast, and a cozy, heart-warming Mississippi mystery—what's not to love?”

—Jamie Ford,
New York Times
bestselling author of

Books by Ashton Lee

THE CHERRY COLA BOOK CLUB

 

THE READING CIRCLE

 

THE WEDDING CIRCLE

 

A CHERRY COLA CHRISTMAS

 

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

A Cherry Cola Christmas

ASHTON LEE

KENSINGTON BOOKS

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

In addition to the help I continue to receive from my agents at Jane Rotrosen Agency, Christina Hogrebe and Meg Ruley, and from my editor at Kensington Books, John Scognamiglio, I have some special thanks to give for this, the fourth installment of the Cherry Cola Book Club series.

 

First, to Jerry Flowers, of Nashville, Tennessee, for his invaluable information on the country music industry and some of its inner workings as I developed the character of Waddell Mack.

 

Next, to Judy Douglas and Lisa Moonfire Kirchner, of Ashville, Alabama, for their delightful library anecdote, which helped make my chapter of inspirational stories that much more interesting. And to Weaver Cain for his law-enforcement input.

 

Lastly, to David Gammill, of Fat Mama's Tamales, in my hometown of Natchez, Mississippi, for his willingness to share his hot tamale recipe with the world; as well as to host the debut signing of
A Cherry Cola Christmas
in his nationally famous restaurant. I am very proud of the Gammill family for making such a success of this Natchez enterprise and was happy to work Fat Mama's Tamales into the plot of this novel.

1

Bad News Travels Fast

W
ho would have guessed that everything would go south so fast in Cherico, Mississippi, during the two weeks Maura Beth and Jeremy enjoyed their honeymoon in Key West? Their sunny, carefree days were filled with hand-holding strolls along Duval Street, a mandatory visit to the Ernest Hemingway House and Museum with its lovely lacework balconies and extra-toed cats lounging around like royalty, and frequent appearances at Sloppy Joe's for margaritas and the Schooner Wharf Bar for shrimp and lots of live music before retiring to the joys of their creative and athletic lovemaking. The bride and groom had a few surprises for each other, but none that was not wickedly delightful and worthy of return engagements. Amazing what a little salt air and lots of salted rims could do for the imagination and libido!

Of course, it was not like they had left things in bad shape prior to their departure. Nor had Maura Beth received any cautionary cell phone calls or e-mails from her trusty assistant, Renette Posey, that The Cherico Library or any other institution was in trouble. Instead, their stay in Florida had tumbled by all too predictably like the tide ebbing and flowing and without a thought of the extreme northeast Mississippi corner of the world that they shared.

To be sure, it had taken a great deal of patience and all the compassion she could muster for Maura Beth to resolve her lifelong issues with her mother, Cara Lynn, which the wedding had brought to a head like an annoying prom night pimple that refused to pop in time for the festivities. But the two women had embraced in tears and exiled their conflict once and for all, and Maura Beth had fully expected to return to Cherico rejuvenated and ready to tackle such ongoing issues as the new library under construction and the always-devious behavior of Councilman Durden Sparks.

In fact, it seemed to be a very good sign that Cara Lynn Mayhew was reasonably restrained in demanding the details of her daughter's honeymoon over the phone that first evening back. “Of course, you know your father and I will want copies of all the pictures you and Jeremy took. But take your time. I remember that it took me forever to wind down after our honeymoon ended.”

“We'll get you a copy of the CD soon,” Maura Beth told her, pleased with her mother's understanding tone.

“Make that two copies while you're at it,” Cara Lynn added. “Your Cudd'n M'Dear wants a copy, too. It's the least you can do after she gave your library that enormous endowment. I assume you've written your thank-you note to her.”

“Of course I have. It was the first one I wrote. Not to mention all the postcards I sent her from Key West. So, two copies of the CD it is. And what is our dear cousin up to now?”

“Something outrageous as usual,” Cara Lynn continued, practically hissing through the phone. “She's apparently called up all the New Orleans television stations and demanded that they give her time for a telethon to—get this—eliminate static cling and static electricity!”

“What?!”

“I know. And of course, they're having absolutely nothing to do with her, so she's bending my ear all the time about what a serious issue this is and how she's sick and tired of getting shocked after walking across the shag carpet and having her delicates clinging to her thighs and backside when she pulls them out of the dryer. Face it, Maura Beth, she needs something to do with her life, and this is her latest attempt.”

“Well, I'm just happy she gave me the wedding present to end all wedding presents. The library will never want for anything now.”

“Isn't that the truth!”

Thus, a new day had truly dawned between mother and daughter. Maura Beth had never gotten off this easy in any long-distance conversation since her college days, and it made her feel like there was nothing out there she couldn't overcome.

Imagine her dismay, then, when the first thing that greeted her upon her return to work was a breathless and anxious-looking Renette, who did not even offer so much as her usual girlish smile or ask for any of the delicious honeymoon details.

“Councilman Sparks wants to see you in his office as soon as you get settled!” Renette told her, the urgency clearly registering in her voice.

“And it's good to see you again, too, Renette!” Maura Beth replied, still managing a smile. Then she welcomed her sweet-natured, teenaged assistant into her open arms for a heartfelt hug.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Miz Mayhew—I mean, Miz McShay. I'm gonna have to get used to your married name now,” she continued as the two women walked into Maura Beth's crowded little office and sat across from each other. “It's just that so much has happened since you left—and none of it good.”

“Really? I can't imagine what could have you this upset. Although I understand the part about Councilman Sparks. I should have had you wear a garlic necklace until I got back. Did he tell you what he wanted with me?”

“No, he was just very rude with me over the phone. He told me to tell you the moment you got back from Key West, and I quote, ‘To get your little gallivanting, honeymooning, librarian self over to his office.' It's not a stretch to say he's probably up to no good as usual.”

Maura Beth shrugged, tossing her auburn curls with definite nonchalance. She had been there and done that more than once with Councilman Sparks. She had won a year-long operational reprieve for the old, worn-out library she still occupied, and then with a little help from her friends had boldly finagled the construction of a brand-new, state-of-the-art facility from Cherico's virtual dictator.

So, what could she possibly fear now? Surely Councilman Sparks could not even be thinking about scuttling further construction of the new building! Why, the foundation had already been poured out at the edge of Lake Cherico, and even before she left for Key West, the first of many concrete pillars had risen to outline her pride and joy and the legacy she would leave to the quirky little town of Cherico.

“Of course, whatever Councilman Sparks has in mind is not the only bad news you'll have to deal with,” Renette continued after an awkward pause. “Some more stores are closing, and there's also been some unexpected criminal activity since you left. It's almost as if someone was waiting for you to leave to go into action. It happened down at The Twinkle when no one was looking—some big tips right out on the tables were stolen. It makes me so nervous since I was broken into once and had all my electronic stuff carried off. I don't think I could stand going through that again—I couldn't get a good night's sleep for weeks!”

“Yes, I remember you telling me about what happened to you,” Maura Beth said. A thoughtful frown broke across her forehead. “But why didn't you let me know about any of this while I was in Key West?”

Renette drew back, giving her a thoroughly skeptical glance. “And ruin your honeymoon? Now, Miz . . . McShay—ha, got it right this time! I was not about to call your cell and tell you stuff you couldn't do a thing about way down there at the tip of Florida—at least not until you got back!”

Maura Beth's laugh was brief and gracious. “Good point. I'm sure I would have been annoyed if you'd actually done that.” Her frown lines grew even deeper as she reflected. “Wow! Was anyone hurt at The Twinkle? Is Periwinkle okay?”

“Yes, she's fine. Everyone down there is fine, except for the missing money.”

“Have they started investigating it?”

“Yes, they have. It's the talk of the town. Miz Periwinkle can give you all the details when you catch up with her, but I can tell you she's really upset that someone would do somethin' that mean and low-down!”

Maura Beth was squinting now, trying to visualize criminal activity at The Twinkle, of all places, but there was a complete disconnect in her mind's eye. “These days, I'm surprised nothing's been caught on someone's security camera.”

“Miz Periwinkle doesn't have one. But she was in here the other day asking if I'd heard anything from you, and she said she was seriously considering adding a camera to protect her restaurant. But she was shaking her head all the time about it and saying things like, what was the world comin' to with people nasty enough to snatch up Miz Lalie Bevins's tips!”

“I don't blame her. Here I was thinking that Cherico, Mississippi, would be the last place on earth to worry about crime of any kind,” Maura Beth observed, her face a study in disbelief. “Looks like even we aren't immune to it way up here in the middle of nowhere.”

Renette took a deep breath, exhaling the weight of the world she'd been carrying around on her shoulders all the time she'd been in charge of the library. More than once, she'd told Maura Beth that she really didn't like the responsibility, but she'd never had any choice in the matter. The library had no assistant director—not even a children's librarian who could take over in Maura Beth's absence. “So when are you gonna up and go see you-know-who at City Hall?”

“I think I'll keep our favorite councilman waiting a tad bit,” Maura Beth said. “I see I have tons of mail to sort through, and I'm sure I have lots of e-mails to answer and so forth. Besides, I don't want him to think he can just snap his fingers and I'll appear like something out of
I Dream of Jeannie
to grant his wishes. I know how he views all women, including that submissive wife of his, but I decided long ago that that just wasn't part of my job description.”

They both leaned in and laughed like girlfriends. “Yep, you've really stood your ground with him and the other councilmen, Miz McShay—and it's paid off. You've always been my role model, you know.”

Maura Beth's wink reflected the genuine camaraderie the two women had generated in a very short time; then she sighed. “Well, the honeymoon's over, literally. Back to work—and then over to City Hall to deal with the devil.”

Renette wagged her brows, but a frown soon followed. “Oh, I forgot some more bad news. Emma's husband is still taking tests to find out what's wrong with him. She's so afraid it might be Alzheimer's. It's got her so upset, she just isn't herself. She said she might have to consider quitting to keep an eye on Mr. Leonard. She said she needed to talk to you as soon as you got back.”

Maura Beth suddenly felt even more deflated. Mrs. Emma Frost, her other front desk clerk, was not particularly knowledgeable or educated, but she was always on time and never complained about the long hours or being on her feet during her shift. Plus, the plain-faced, sixty-something grandmother was a holdover from Miz Annie Scott's library regime, and Emma had made a point of emphasizing that she definitely needed her paltry salary to help make ends meet. And she had been very thankful to get the recent raise that had been provided by Cudd'n M'Dear's extremely generous library endowment—Maura Beth's ultra-spectacular wedding present from the most eccentric of her New Orleans relatives.

“I'm so sorry to hear it,” Maura Beth said. “I was afraid of something like that when Emma kept saying that Leonard couldn't seem to remember the simplest things these days and would even wander around the backyard looking for something. But he could never tell her what it was. She said he'd even wandered out of the house now and then, and she had to track him down out on the sidewalk, thankful that he hadn't been hit by a car. So, she's taking it all really hard?”

Renette looked completely distraught. “Honestly, Miz McShay, there are times when I've heard her mumbling things to herself during the shifts we shared while you were gone. I know something like Alzheimer's isn't contagious, but she's doin' an awful good imitation of someone who might have it, too. And then, when I've asked if there's anything I can do for her, she just shrugs and kinda pushes me away.”

“That isn't like her. She's always worn her emotions on her sleeve here at work, the way she'll get upset if she tells the wrong thing to a patron and comes to me all flustered until I tell her to calm down and that everything'll be just fine.”

“I think she's just worried to death about her husband. I'm sure I prob'ly would be, too.”

“Same here.” Maura Beth paused to gather her thoughts, genuinely worried. “I'll see what I can do to comfort her when she comes in tomorrow. Meanwhile, Councilman Sparks is over there at City Hall, busy spinning his web. But this is one little fly that won't get trapped!”

 

The magic spell that Key West had cast over Maura Beth was beginning to fade with each City Hall front step she climbed. The three-story white columns towering above almost seemed to be frowning down upon her. For a brief moment, she actually contemplated how convenient it would be to return to that laid-back, semitropical environment—perhaps permanently. There would be nothing more difficult to deal with down there than the swaying of royal palms in the constant breeze off the Gulf—unless one of those frequent hurricanes came roaring in during the season. Unfortunately, she was about to face Cherico's very own hurricane in the form of Councilman Durden Sparks—always plotting, fomenting discord, and pitting folks against one another in the manner he had perfected over the past several decades. The man had “storm warning” written all over his face.

Before Maura Beth knew it, she was sitting across from the charming rascal himself in his spotless, designer showroom-like office with the smell of the rum-flavored cigar he was smoking lingering in the air. That was a new touch, she observed. Perhaps he thought smoking cigars made him even more of a good ole boy than he already was. Of course, getting all the meaningless pleasantries out of the way as fast as she could was the first order of business.

“Yes, Councilman, you're absolutely right,” she was saying, sounding a bit bored. “Jeremy and I thoroughly enjoyed our honeymoon. It was everything we hoped it would be and more. But I'm sure you'll understand what I mean when I say that it was over all too soon.”