A Cherry Cola Christmas (8 page)

Mamie seemed somewhat chastised but still maintained her haughty posture as she continued. “Oh, the words people use these days! Chilling is for food in the refrigerator, my dear. But anyway, what about going back to the significance of shelling peas? That was my original comment, and I think it was a good one.”

“Yes, it was,” Maura Beth added, clearly seeing the way to keeping the peace. “Let's examine it a little further. I do think Mamie has a valid point to make here. It's my opinion that shelling peas for the Addams household to eat is Berenice's way of displaying her affection for the family—actually one of many ways she does it. Anyone care to comment on that?”

It was Becca who ran with the request. “Well, if you think about it, shelling peas takes a lot of patience. And Berenice needed boatloads of patience to deal with Frankie's fantasies and threats to run away from home—not to mention little John Henry's constant whining and complaints.”

“Yeah, but that Berenice didn't have the patience when it counted,” Justin Brachle pointed out. “She didn't listen to John Henry when he said his head hurt that time. She didn't believe him is the way I read it. And then the poor little kid ended up dying from meningitis.”

“He cried wolf once too often,” Connie continued. “She had tuned him out over the years, and it ended in tragedy. But it was sweet the way Berenice had that cute nickname for John Henry, calling him Candy.”

“Shelling peas can be fatal sometimes,” Miss Voncille observed. “Didn't Idella in
Driving Miss Daisy
keel over while doing just that?”

“Now you know good and well that that wasn't what did her in, Voncille!” Mamie added. “It was just her time to go. She could just as easily have been washing the dishes!”

Maura Beth allowed herself a moment of rare satisfaction where the book club was concerned. Everyone was pitching in and doing the book justice, even if some of the exchanges were a bit trivial and heated. The notes in her head were serving her well now.

“So how did y'all view Frankie's attempt to go on the honeymoon with her brother and his bride?”

“It's the heart of the story, of course,” Jeremy said, entering the discussion for the first time. “Frankie so desperately wants intimacy of some kind in her life that she obsessively attaches herself to her brother's wedding. The concept of a third wheel hasn't occurred to her yet. None of us likes to think of ourselves that way, but it happens. It sneaks up on you most of the time. That part of the novel is very painful to read—imagine if you were witness to a twelve-year-old being pulled out of the backseat of a honeymoon getaway car. At that point she's just a lot of background noise and clatter—like the tin cans that have probably been attached to the back bumper.”

“Calling someone background noise is rather cruel, I think,” Mamie said, eyeing Jeremy with skepticism.

“You should know, Sister,” Marydell added. “You've called people much worse than that over the years.”

Finally, Mamie shot up from her seat, dropping her paper plate with its half-eaten chicken breast to the floor with a muffled thud. But instead of taking on her sister any further, she directed her hostility toward Maura Beth. “I think I've had just about enough of The Cherry Cola Book Club. I'm positive my sister wouldn't have turned into such a loose cannon but for all this outside-the-box prodding you've done, Maura Beth. Marydell simply won't shut up around the house anymore. She's driving me crazy, and it's all your fault. You've created a monster!”

“Tit for tat, Sister!” Marydell replied, wagging her finger as Mamie grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“Oh, let her go, Maura Beth,” Miss Voncille said, barely able to suppress her amusement. “She's stormed out of a few of my ‘Who's Who in Cherico?' meetings just like that. She'll be back as if nothing ever happened. You just wait and see. She craves the spotlight too much.”

Mamie turned on her heels, staring down her rival. “I most certainly will not be back. Y'all can eat all the picnic food and review all the books you want until there's nothing left to cook and read, but you'll do it without me!”

And then, over Maura Beth's sincerest protests, Mamie was gone.

“Well, I certainly didn't see that coming,” Maura Beth said, as everyone else sat stupefied.

“I didn't either,” Marydell added. “And I'm truly sorry to have caused such a big row.”

At the moment Becca was glancing at the second helping of her own green pea recipe on her plate. “Who knew veggies could be so controversial? Maybe this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't fixed them. But the truth is, I've had this incredible craving for them lately, haven't I, Stout Fella?”

Justin smirked. “She's tellin' y'all the truth. Our freezer has practically nothing in it but those plastic packages of frozen green peas. I halfway think we've cleaned out The Cherico Market. I betcha anything Mr. Hannigan over there has had to reorder out the wazoo. Well, at least Becca doesn't put them on her chocolate ice cream and baked custard when her sweet tooth kicks in.”

“But I wouldn't hesitate to if that's what the baby needed. They say that's how those cravings work, you know.”

A wave of much-needed laughter swept across the room, and then Maura Beth said, “I hope no one else is going to walk out like that. I'll say this much. Mamie Crumpton is just about as headstrong as Frankie Addams was when it comes to making impulsive decisions.”

“Trust me. She'll be back,” Marydell insisted. “Probably not tonight. But eventually. She won't want to miss the opportunity to let everyone know what she thinks about everything under the sun—which she thinks rises and sets on her. Why, what would we all do without that?”

But Maura Beth was determined not to let it happen again. Another Cherry Cola Book Club meeting was simply not going to be derailed by something unfortunate and unforeseen. No heart attack, thunderstorm, or people storming out incensed—none of those would send the rest of the members to the exits early. This time, her ace in the hole was the idea that had been intriguing her for so long. She was convinced that not only the club but also the entire town needed it very much.

“With or without your sister, we'll continue to be a force to reckon with,” Maura Beth began, putting her plate on her chair and taking the podium at last. “We'll continue our discussion of
The Member of the Wedding
in a few more minutes. But first, I wanted to run something else by all of you. I've been thinking about mentioning it before now. We know that our little town is going through a rough patch. We thought we had the Spurs 'R' Us factory coming to the new industrial park, but it looks as if that's going to fall through. Some more of our stores and businesses are closing downtown and all around, and some of our citizens are moving away to find better jobs. We've even had a bit of criminal activity that we haven't been able to figure out yet, and it's got us all wondering what'll happen next to disturb our peace of mind.”

Here, Maura Beth couldn't help but pause, remembering what she now suspected to be true. But it was only for an instant, since she had not yet had the showdown with Emma to prove it.

“So, what would y'all think about holding a special meeting of our club in December to buck up our spirits? My idea right now is that we don't actually review a book. We would still bring our potluck dishes, of course, but this time, we'd all exchange inspirational and spiritual stories. Something to lift us up and get us all on the same page and pulling together. They say there's power in that kind of group effort. Now, don't misunderstand. I'm not talking about holding a religious service here at the library. Our churches can do that quite well. This would be an ecumenical exchange of anecdotes and stories that would make us feel good about ourselves and Cherico as we wind up this year and move into another one. Any reactions?”

Becca was the first to clasp her hands together. “Oh, I love the idea. You have my vote!”

“Mine, too!” Connie cried out.

“Are you asking for any spooky experiences we've had?” Miss Voncille said. “I'm not sure I've seen any apparitions.”

Maura Beth maintained her good-natured tone. “Oh, no. We're not going to be telling ghost stories like we were sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows at summer camp or anything like that. I meant that we should share experiences that have perhaps changed our lives in some way. Things that have enabled us to glimpse the big picture, so to speak.”

Miss Voncille cocked her head smartly. “And what is the big picture, Maura Beth? Sometimes I wish I knew what it was for certain. But I can tell you that I distrust people who walk around saying they have all the answers while looking down their noses at you because you don't believe as they do. I started out life as a Presbyterian, but I'm not sure where or what I am now. I don't feel bad about that, either. Live and let live is pretty spiritual in my book.”

“We don't have to come to any definite conclusions on our spiritual views. There are so many to choose from. It's one of our greatest freedoms. That's the American way, isn't it?”

“Well, do you want any outright denominational experiences?” James Hannigan added. “I mean, I have a funny story I can tell about my First Communion after trudging through catechism. It's not exactly uplifting, but it definitely is funny. At least it is now in retrospect.”

“Save it for our meeting, then,” Maura Beth told him, nodding approvingly. “I just think we should have a free-form get-together where everyone's insights are welcome. I'd be willing to bet the time of the year will bring out the best in all of us. We could even think of it as our very own Cherry Cola Christmas party—but without the foolishness that usually happens on such occasions.”

“That's refreshing—an intellectual, inspirational, spiritual Christmas party. I'm all for it,” Marydell said. “And when I tell Sister about it, I can guarantee you she won't want to miss it.”

“Then how about a display of hands?” asked Maura Beth. “Those in favor, raise 'em up high.”

Everyone present followed through, and there were no dissenters when Maura Beth asked for them.

“Good deal. So the next thing we need to do is pick out a date. I've been looking at the calendar, and I think we need to go with something in early December so as not to conflict with any organized church activities later in the month.”

Nora Duddney raised her hand again. “Don't forget about December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day. We don't want to conflict with that, either—just in case there's some veterans' celebration or something.”

“Good catch, Nora.”

When it was all over and done with, December 6th had won the vote for the meeting date, and Maura Beth said, “Becca, I want you to be honest with us. Are you still feeling up to coordinating the food assignments for us?”

Becca rubbed her growing belly gently, something she never tired of doing. There were times she could have sworn she could feel the baby's life force flowing into the palm of her hand. “Oh, I believe so. All I think about these days is food, food, and more food. Stout Fella knows where to find me when he gets home from the real-estate office. Tell 'em, honey.”

Justin snickered, nodding agreeably. “She's always hypnotized in front of the refrigerator, lettin' all the cold air escape. No tellin' how long she's been there when I walk in and bring her outta the trance.”

“I can't make up my mind, that's all. I just know the baby needs this vitamin or that one, and I hunt and peck on the shelves until I find it.”

“And if we don't have it, I have to go jump in the car and get it,” Justin added. “I think that's the time-honored way for all husbands.”

“That's the way it worked out for me,” Douglas added, enjoying a chuckle. “With Connie, she just had to have those little pearl onions you put in martinis. I have no idea what that was about.”

Connie perked up considerably. “The sodium, maybe? I remember I put salt on everything when I was carrying Lindy. Even on desserts.”

“She was just ahead of her time,” Douglas said, gently squeezing his wife's arm. “Now, they put a dash of sea salt on just about everything sweet—even ice cream. They get away with calling it gourmet, too. I think what happened was, somebody spilled some salt while they were whipping up a dessert somewhere and tried to make the best of it.”

“Well, if somebody's pregnancy cravings have led them to an ‘Aha!' moment or some other insights worth sharing, we'll be happy to hear about them on December 6th. And be sure and spread the word—this could very well attract new members who weren't interested before.”

Maura Beth felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment as
The Member of the Wedding
review continued and the evening began to wind down. Now that Mamie Crumpton was no longer there to stir things up, everyone was able to contribute their insights in a friendly manner. The give-and-take was completely under control. Maura Beth also noted with some relief that this was the first Cherry Cola Book Club meeting that had not been dismissed early as the result of some controversy caused by such culprits as Councilman Sparks, the mysterious Sarah Key Darwin, and even Maura Beth's meddling mother, Cara Lynn Mayhew. Or a medical crisis in the case of Justin Brachle. Even so, Cherico and many of its citizens were hurting and needed to feel better about themselves as the holiday season approached.

Would the December 6th meeting be just the balm they all needed?

8

A Short Walk to the Truth

I
t was one of those autumn days in the northeast corner of Mississippi that couldn't decide where it belonged: just enough warmth to imitate spring or summer, but not nearly enough chill in the air to pull off genuine winter weather. Halloween had come and gone uneventfully, and November would be staging its big Thanksgiving number in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile—and only after carefully considering any number of face-saving alternatives—Maura Beth believed it was past time for the truth to emerge. Not that the neighborhood watch posters Sheriff Dreyfus and his deputies had posted all over town were necessarily a bad thing. But her best instincts had been telling her for quite some time now that a genuine crime spree was not something Cherico needed to worry about at all.

“Come walk with me. Let's go get some exercise together. Miz Marydell will continue to watch the front desk for us,” Maura Beth told Emma after the two of them had eaten their lunchtime homemade sandwiches in the library's cramped little break room. Maura Beth had brought tuna on wheat, while Emma had fixed ham and cheese on white.

As for the break room itself—it summed up everything that was wrong with Cherico's woefully outdated library. It consisted of nothing more than an old refrigerator that made terrifying humming noises off and on, a microwave oven whose bell no longer rang when the food was ready, a small wooden table with salt and pepper shakers and a bottle of ketchup in the middle, and a couple of patio furniture chairs for the final mix and mismatch touch! Maura Beth could hardly wait until they moved into the spacious kitchen with its state-of-the-art appliances that she had designed for the new library out at the lake. But that would just have to wait until next summer and the projected Fourth of July grand opening.

Emma looked somewhat surprised by the request as she wiped her mouth with her paper napkin and then threw it into the plastic trash can. “Well, where do you wanna walk?”

“Oh, just up and down Commerce Street. I've been doing it a lot lately, trying to keep an eye on things like the sheriff asked us to. Haven't spotted anything yet, though. Have you?”

Emma's expression went from surprised to uncomfortable. “Uh . . . no. But I always go home to Leonard straight from work to see how he's doin'. I really don't have time for much else.”

“Anything new to report from home?”

“Wish there was. But things are about the same. Leonard, he's doin' the best he can, I guess.”

“And I'm sure you are, too. But come on now. A little walk in the fresh air will do us both good,” Maura Beth added, leading the way out of the break room. She stopped briefly at the front desk to inform Marydell of their plans, and soon they were out on the sidewalk, facing a light, “sweater weather” breeze as they headed down Shadow Alley toward Commerce Street.

“It's such a shame we're going to be losing more of these downtown stores,” Maura Beth observed, as Cherico's busiest street came into view. Even though it didn't look that way at the moment. Perhaps it was just a random snapshot, but no one else was out on the sidewalk on their lunch hour, and there was nothing approaching traffic congestion in the street. “Things really are dead in Cherico these days. Somehow, we've got to turn it around. During all my wedding hoopla, I finally got my mother to understand why I care so much about Cherico the way I do, but no matter what, Jeremy and I intend to stay for the long haul.”

Emma turned her head with a grateful smile. “That's nice to hear. Of course, me and Leonard, we was born here, so we never had a choice. It's our home, and I guess we're just stuck with it.”

They had reached the cozy wooden bench in front of Audra Neely's antique store, and it was there that Maura Beth stopped and gestured. “Let's sit here for a moment, why don't we? I have something important I want to discuss with you.”

The alarm clearly registered in Emma's voice. “You're not gonna fire me, are ya, Miz Maura Beth? Is that why we're on this walk? I figured somethin' was up 'cause you've never asked me to do it before.”

“No, indeed. Nothing is up, Emma. At least not the way you mean it. I hope I've made it clear that you have job security. Whatever gave you that idea?” Maura Beth quickly took her seat and Emma followed her lead, nervously rubbing her fingertips together.

“I don't know exactly why I said it. Guess you could say I was just followin' my instincts.”

Maura Beth reassuringly patted Emma's arm a couple of times as she continued. “I'm so glad you put it that way. I like to follow my instincts, too. Of course, they told me from the very beginning that you weren't telling me the truth about stealing those tips from The Twinkle. It was just too out of character for you with the way you feel about going to your Church of Christ every Wednesday and Sunday. And now, I know for sure you didn't take that money, Emma. You couldn't have.”

“But I did, Miz Maura Beth!” Emma insisted, fidgeting in her seat. “Why would I lie?”

“That's what you need to tell me now. I promise you that whatever you say, I'll handle things with Miz Periwinkle and Lalie Bevins. I just want you to tell me the truth so I can put my instincts to bed and things can get back to normal in my brain. I can't help it, you know. Being so detail-oriented comes with being a librarian. We're natural-born processors of books and just about everything else.”

“But why do you say I couldn't have took the money? You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

Maura Beth drew herself up, even looking smug about it all. “Because there was something about your little confession that bothered me from the beginning, but I could never quite put my finger on it. Then I went back later and confirmed things with Periwinkle about the timeline that day. I remembered she said those tips were stolen at the end of the lunch service—close to two o'clock—and you said you walked down to The Twinkle on your lunch hour. You know as well as I do that you always take it from eleven to twelve—just like the two of us did together today. So there's no way you could have taken that money like you said you did. It's time for you to tell me why you made up that story and where that money you gave me came from. I'm assuming it didn't come out of your own pocket.”

Maura Beth had not expected Emma to break down, but she did—tearing up as she turned her head away. Then she started sobbing quietly, and Maura Beth had to wait until Emma had gotten it all out of her system.

“Take your time, dear. I'm not going anywhere.”

“I didn't know about the money at first,” Emma began while sniffling. “I mean, I heard people talkin' about it, but that's all I knew. Then one day I was puttin' Leonard's sock drawer in some kinda order—it was just too messy for my taste and you know how organized I am at the front desk—and there the money was just as plain as could be. So I went to Leonard, and said, ‘Where did this come from, honey?' And he says to me, ‘That was supposed ta be a surprise. It's my birthday money for you. I'm gonna spend it all on your party.' ”

Maura Beth was squinting now, trying her best to follow along. “Your birthday party?”

Emma exhaled with a great deal of force and continued patiently. “Don't you remember I told you how Leonard was carryin' on about my sixty-fifth birthday and singin' to me all the time?”

“Oh, yes, now I do. You said he was driving you crazy.”

Emma managed an odd little chuckle as she glanced at the overcast sky. “You don't know the half of it. Anyhow, I asked Leonard where the money come from, and he says, ‘It was left behind.' ‘Left behind where?' I says to him. And that's when it all come out. Oh, Miz Maura Beth, he's so confused all the time—I can't blame him for what happened. But I wudd'n gonna let him take the blame for it, neither. It was one of those times Leonard got out of the house and wandered around without a thought in his head. He told me he walked all the way down to Commerce Street and back, and at one point he just happened to look in the window at The Twinkle, and that's when he saw that money just settin' around on the tables. ‘I'll just go in and take it for my Emma's birthday party,' he says to me.”

Emma briefly broke down again but steadied herself more quickly this time. “He didn't really know what he was doin,' Miz Maura Beth. He told me he figured no one needed the money since they just left it there. It's his brain, ya know. It's just on the blink, and there's nothin' the doctors nor anyone else can do about it. I sure wish I could snap my fingers and make it go away.”

“I understand,” Maura Beth said as soothingly as possible, putting her arm around Emma's shoulder. “Although I have to say that this wasn't the explanation I was expecting. Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't know what I was expecting, but I would never have guessed you were covering for your Leonard. I just knew you weren't telling me the truth.”

“But you believe me now, don'tcha? I swear I'm not makin' any of it up. It took me by surprise as much as I bet it did you just now.”

“Of course, I believe you. Now that I think it through, it's the only explanation that makes any sense.”

“Well, that's why me and Cissy have been keepin' such an eye on him now. He's liable to wander off anywhere and do anything if we don't. But I hope you see why I didn't say nothin' to you about Leonard when you first come back from your honeymoon. I didn't know he'd done it then. I found out later, and that's when I decided to give you the money and take the blame and ask you to help me out with Miz Periwinkle. No way was I gonna let my Leonard go through havin' to deal with the law. He's no criminal—no way. So, no—I didn't steal nothin'. But I did break me another commandment when I lied. I hope you don't think I'm a bad person doin' what I did. It weighed heavy on my heart.”

Maura Beth took her arm from around Emma's shoulder and then gently squeezed her hand. “There's no way I could ever think that about you. A good wife and mother always protects her own.”

“I'm glad you put it that-a-way. That's exactly why I did it. I've always been fierce as a lion when it comes to my family.” There was a thoughtful pause. “So, are you gonna tell Miz Periwinkle everything?”

“I'll handle it, and I'm sure she and Lalie Bevins will understand about what Leonard did. Nobody would ever hold that against him.”

“But whadda we do about the law? Won't the sheriff and the police keep tryin' to solve it?”

Maura Beth's expression was determined, her voice brimming with confidence. “I know Periwinkle will explain what happened to the sheriff, and that should be the end of it. It was one of those quirky things that no one could ever foresee. I'm even inclined to think your Leonard wasn't caught doing it because he didn't have any malice in his heart. Who knows what his world is really like on a daily basis? He's bound to see and hear things differently than the rest of us.”

“Oh, you're an angel from heaven, Miz Maura Beth!” Emma declared, leaning in for a spontaneous hug. “Leonard's doctors, they've given me all these brochures to read about what to expect and how to deal with it, and you sound just like what I've been readin'.”

“I'm glad to help in any way I can. And I have a great suggestion for you. I want you and Leonard to come to the December book club meeting where we'll all share some inspirational stories with each other. It'll do him good to get out, and this time you won't have a problem keeping an eye on him.”

Emma hung her head and didn't speak for a while, and for a moment, Maura Beth thought she was going to be turned down. “I've been wonderin' if I'd be able to get in the Christmas spirit this year with all I've been goin' through. This was about the time last year that Leonard really began actin' up, and I think I was in denial for too long. So I believe I'll take you up on your invitation. I know Leonard won't mind—I'll just tell him we're goin' to a Christmas party at the library.”

“Well, it is, actually. Maybe a little fancier than most, but we need something out of the ordinary with everything that's been happening.”

Just then the front door to the antique store opened and out stepped Audra Neely herself, looking perfectly coiffed and stylishly attired, but also perplexed. “What on earth are you two discussing out here so intently? Are you trying to solve all the world's problems or what?”

Maura Beth laughed and stood up quickly. “How are you, Audra? No, we weren't tackling the world—just a few odds and ends that needed a little attention here in Cherico.”

The two women embraced warmly, and then Audra and Emma exchanged pleasantries as well.

“I've been meaning to come by and tell you how sorry I am that you'll be closing your wonderful shop soon,” Maura Beth said, gesturing toward the window display that featured vintage lamps, vases, and even a Chinese cloisonné sideboard. “I think it added so much to downtown, and I kept telling myself that when I could afford it, I'd come down and actually buy something from you. But now that I can finally do that, I find you're taking off for greener pastures.”

“No one's more disappointed than I am, but I've been sticking it out as long as I can,” Audra explained. “I thought things might get a little better when there was talk of that cowboy boot manufacturer moving to town. New jobs would bring new blood, and maybe some of it would plunk down their money with me. But that didn't happen, and I've discovered the hard way that this is the wrong market for my antiques. Maybe any antiques. Believe me, I went to every estate sale in Mississippi trying to find a variety of pieces that would fit into every budget. Whenever some antebellum home would go by the wayside in Natchez or somewhere else historic, I was there, ready to bid with a vengeance. But Chericoans just weren't buying what I was selling. I may try again over in Corinth, but only after I take a little vacation from the business to get my spirits back up.”