The Cherry Cola Book Club (15 page)

Maura Beth was frowning now, trying to follow the implications of his story. “What made you bring up the crush angle?”

He finished off his port and said, “Because that's my field of study. Psychology is all about predictable human behavior, and I listened carefully to all the emphasis you put on the comments your councilman kept making about your beautiful red hair. The way he carried on about it, and especially that line about your innocence that you said made you feel uncomfortable. It sounds a lot like my experience in reverse, but at a much higher level of expectation. I think it all probably means the man wants you around at all costs, despite this business about closing the library. It's a roundabout way of setting things up in typical male fashion.”

The three other women sitting around the table, all of whom happened to be married, exchanged glances, and it was Becca who finally spoke up for them. “I have to agree with Paul. Regardless of what happens with the library, I think it would be a huge mistake for you to go directly to work for Councilman Sparks. You don't know what kind of pressure he could end up putting on you for—you know what.”

Maura Beth bit her lip as she shook her head. “I can be such a naïve girlie-girl at times. The thought had crossed my mind that he might be hitting on me, but I didn't want to believe it.”

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Connie said. “You did the right thing. You turned him down and told him you were going for the gold. You have nothing to be ashamed of. The big question now is how to get that gold.”

“Right!” Maura Beth exclaimed. “So now it's idea time. First step is to reschedule the
To Kill a Mockingbird
meeting and get into an honest, meaty discussion of Harper Lee's work. No more indulging the war between the sexes. At least Councilman Sparks has promised me he won't be doing that sort of thing anymore—that is, if I can take him at his word. But how do we get more people interested in participating?”

Becca waved her hand in front of her face a few times. “
The Becca Broccoli Show
could go with the downsizing recipes full-time, for starters. And I could keep on pitching
To Kill a Mockingbird
as our upcoming food for thought in the club. Stout Fella could talk about getting his body in shape with my new recipes, and his brain in shape by reading and thinking about Harper Lee's work. I could invite my audience to come to the book club meeting to have a little bite and discuss literature with Becca Broccoli, Stout Fella, and everyone else. Just how far out were you considering scheduling this thing, Maura Beth?”

“A month? Maybe five weeks at the most? We can't wait too long, though, or we'll run up against the budget approval.”

Becca nodded enthusiastically. “That should be enough time to get Stout Fella in some sort of reasonable shape—oh, and to get him to read the novel.”

Then an inspired Connie stepped in. “I was thinking that Douglas and I could talk things up to all our new neighbors out at the lake. We're just now getting to know some of them. But people are pretty much the same all over. Everybody likes to eat, and you never know who likes to read until you bring up a few pop culture references. That's where you separate the TV watchers and moviegoers from the readers.”

Maura Beth's face was suddenly alive with girlish excitement. “And I've just this second thought of something to run past Periwinkle when I get home.” Then she took the time to explain The Twinkle and its congenial owner to the Brentwood McShays.

Susan briefly glanced at her husband after the testimonial to the restaurant. “Now that makes my mouth water—and on a full stomach yet. Looks like we're going to have to visit your brother and Connie more often than we'd planned. If nothing else, I want some of that tomato aspic with the cream cheese in the middle. And I bet I'd get so hooked, we'd probably even want to come back another time to take in a certain book review at the library.”

Maura Beth clasped her hands together. “Are you saying you'd be willing to come for our
Mockingbird
session?”

“What do you say, Paul?” Susan added, winking smartly.

He thought for a moment and then leaned against his brother. “Let me check first with Doug, here. Think you could return the favor and put us up in Cherico now and then?”

“Done deal. Now that I think about it, I could use a fishing partner on
The Verdict
.”

“Wow!” Becca exclaimed, checking her watch. “That was a productive ten or fifteen minutes, wasn't it? Now that all that's decided, I think it's safe to head for the hospital and let Stout Fella know about it.”

“And I'll keep him from getting too antsy by predicting who I think will be in the Super Bowl this year,” Douglas added, rising from his seat with a wink. “You know—the kind of stuff that only us men like.”

Maura Beth took a deep breath as Becca and Douglas headed into the house. “I think I'll head back to Cherico tomorrow. For the first time in a while, I really believe The Cherry Cola Book Club has a chance to make a name for itself.”

W
hen Maura Beth hit the town limits of Cherico upon her return from Nashville the next day, she couldn't believe how much it felt like home to her. It truly mystified her how that could be, since she had spent most of her life growing up in Covington and all of her college years at LSU. Yet there was no question in her mind that she was glad to be back, even after a mere couple of days away.

What was more, she was even happier to see
her
library. Funny, how possessive of it she had become ever since Councilman Sparks had cast it in those terms during the unveiling of his ultimatum several months earlier. She also now knew that she had officially embraced an either/or situation: Either she kept the library open through the book club and other measures, or she left town. As she and her friends had all agreed up in Brentwood in no uncertain terms, there would be no “working under” Councilman Sparks in any capacity whatsoever.

The informal report Renette had prepared for her boss's perusal on her first afternoon back was uneventful for the most part, but a couple of items took a bit of explaining.

“Exactly what is this notation here?” Maura Beth wanted to know, pointing to the second scribble on the list as they reviewed it in her office. “What does ‘V15 Damage' mean? Please tell me it doesn't have anything to do with the one and only Mr. Barnes Putzel.”

Renette looked down at her lap while fidgeting in her seat. “Unfortunately, it does. We ran out of peanut butter crackers, and Mr. Putzel threw Volume Fifteen of the
Encyclopaedia Britannica
all the way across the room and broke the spine. It was actually the only exciting thing that happened all day.”

Maura Beth covered both eyes with the palm of her right hand. “Oh, I knew there was something I forgot to do before I left. I meant to go down to The Cherico Market and buy some more crackers. I had even made a note to myself that we were running low. Well, did he do any more damage, or was it just Volume Fifteen?”

“Just that one. Do we have the money to replace it?”

Maura Beth flashed a sarcastic grin. “We barely have enough money to replace the crackers. I'll call his sister and tell her to write us a check.” Then she moved down the list with her finger. “And what was this ‘Complaint from Mr. Parker Place'?”

Renette had a guilty expression on her face. “I, uh, was really late putting out the most recent edition of the
Commercial Appeal.
”

Maura Beth shrugged. “Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. You put it in the newspaper rack eventually, didn't you?”

“Yes, of course. But Mr. Place told me he comes every day to go through the classifieds looking for a job, and he said he was annoyed that he had to wait three hours. I got sidetracked by some phone calls and stuff. He was polite about it all, but I could tell he was stressed out.”

“What does this Mr. Place look like?” Maura Beth wanted to know, reviewing a mental slideshow of their regular patrons.

“Oh, we've both seen him in here a lot recently. He's that handsome black gentleman who's always dressed in a coat and tie. Only he says he's out of work now and comes to the library for job leads in the Memphis paper.”

Maura Beth pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I tell you what. Next time he comes in, let me know. I'd like to talk to him. Do you know what kind of work he's looking for?”

“He didn't say.”

“Well, you just keep an eye out for him, okay?” Then she ran down the rest of the list, looking up with a smile. “I think I understand the rest of this. All things considered, you did extremely well being in charge. Now, the next thing I want you to do is take some money out of petty cash and run down to The Cherico Market for those crackers. We've got to keep Mr. Putzel from destroying the rest of the encyclopedia.”

 

For Maura Beth, it had come down to this: The
To Kill a Mockingbird
potluck and review had been rescheduled one week after Halloween, and The Cherry Cola Book Club had two weeks after that to build toward either the ultimate sizzle or a final fizzle. But the momentum that had been rekindled in Brentwood must not be squandered, and Maura Beth was so excited about it all that she was practically hatching schemes in her sleep. One that particularly intrigued her involved meeting Mr. Parker Place and finding out what his story was. Who knew? He just might turn out to be the perfect example of someone successfully using the library for job leads, and that also might impress and sway Councilman Sparks there at the end.

On Maura Beth's second day back from her Nashville trip, in fact, Mr. Place was ushered into her office by a smiling Renette, who had invited him over the minute he had finished with the paper. At close range, Maura Beth found him even more attractive than she had whenever she'd spotted him from a distance. His smooth, ginger-colored skin and generous smile made it easy to linger over his strong, angular features. In addition, there was a maturity about him that was both reassuring and titillating.

“My assistant tells me you're looking for work, Mr. Place,” Maura Beth said, after they had exchanged greetings and other pleasantries.

“I am,” he told her. “And I never thought I would be at this stage of my life.”

“What do you do?”

Discernible pride was clearly evident in his smile and tone of voice. “I'm a pastry chef. And a first-rate one, too. I worked for nearly thirty years at the Grand Shelby Hotel over in Memphis making desserts fit for royalty. Provided the king or queen can practice moderation. What I make is good for your sweet tooth, not necessarily your figure.”

Maura Beth chuckled briefly, but then there was a sharp intake of air. “Didn't I read in the
Commercial Appeal
that the Grand Shelby Hotel was torn down about a month ago?”

“Sure was, I'm sorry to say. It went belly-up in this economy, and they couldn't find a buyer for it. So they just tore it down and sold the land off for a parking lot. There's too much of that going on these days. Unfortunately, the hotel was also my home. I had a very nice, spacious suite all to myself on the second floor. So here I am back in my hometown of Cherico after all these years living with my mama until I can get back on track. I check the classifieds every day to see if there's an ad for anything up my alley. I have to say, I wish your library had a computer so I could go online and look for leads that way.”

Maura Beth was unable to suppress her frustration at his last comment. “I wish we had one for the patrons, too. More than one, actually. But the City Council keeps turning down my requests for terminals. They're dead set against them, and I've asked for funding every year I've been here. It's just not a priority of theirs.”

“That's a shame,” Mr. Place answered, scowling momentarily. “If I was still in Memphis, I could use their computers, but down here, I guess I'll have to plunk down for one of my own. I have a little savings to tide me over until I find something that really suits me, though. I left this little town in the first place because there were lots more jobs in Memphis, you know. I'm a native Chericoan, as I said. Born over there at Cherico Memorial in the middle of a hailstorm fifty-four years ago. My mama always said I was a ‘hail' of a baby—nine and a half ounces and bouncing all over the place.”

Maura Beth leaned in and laughed. “That's cute. Your mother has a delightful sense of humor, and you do, too. I guess it runs in the Place family.”

He slowly shook his head, smiling all the while. “Oh, we're not Places. We're Bedloes. I was christened Joe Sam Bedloe, but I changed it legally to Parker Place once I started working for the Grand Shelby Hotel. And yes, I had a good reason for doing that. When I was growing up, Mama gave me a Monopoly game one Christmas, and whenever my aunties would come over with my little cousins, we'd wear that game out. I liked all the names of the streets, particularly Park Place. It sounded so classy, and everybody knew it was where all the imaginary rich folks hung their hats. And if you could buy that deed and Boardwalk and put hotels up, you stood a great chance of winning the game, which I usually did. Made my cousins so mad every time. So here I am—Mis-ter Park-er Place of Cherico, Memphis, and Monopoly fame, pastry chef extraordinaire.”

“It all has a nice ring to it, I must say.”

“Yep, high-rent district all the way.”

Maura Beth then flashed her warmest smile as she decided to tell him all about the book club. “While you're waiting for the right job to come along, maybe you'd consider joining us and coming to our next meeting in about five weeks? And why not bring your mother along with you? I'd love to meet her.”

He looked as if he might be seriously considering her invitation. “Yes, I've seen your sign-up sheet. And I have to admit I have a little history with
To Kill a Mockingbird
. So does my mama.” He rose from his chair and pointed to the front desk. “Maybe I'll just make my way right over there and sign up now.”

Maura Beth could barely contain her delight. “That's fantastic, Mr. Place! And do you have a current library card?”

He told her he didn't as they headed out of her office.

“Well, let's go get you fixed up all around, shall we?”

 

That evening Maura Beth decided to have a late dinner at The Twinkle to tell Periwinkle all about her impromptu trip to Nashville, as well as the promotional idea that had come to her during the Brentwood brainstorming session with everyone. In fact, the two of them closed the place down, sending Lalie Bevins, the waitress, home to her family, before truly engaging each other.

“So what's this great concept you hinted at when I served you your grilled chicken and pineapple salsa?” Periwinkle began, finally taking a seat at Maura Beth's table after a hard night's work. “By the way, did you like it? It's the first time I've offered it. I don't want to get into a rut, you know. Expanding the menu is something I'd like to do.”

“It was delicious, of course. Everything you serve always is.” Then Maura Beth briefly outlined all the decisions that had been made in Brentwood before finally getting to Periwinkle's initial question. “Here's my concept. Why don't we cross-promote my library and your restaurant? I've come up with a perfectly brilliant way.”

“I'm all ears.”

Maura Beth went all girlish and giggly for a few moments. “We use library cards. If one of my patrons presents his or her library card to you when they order, they can get a free drink or dessert.”

Periwinkle looked stoic and went silent for a while. “Hmm. I have to think about my margins, you know. What about half-price drinks or desserts?”

Maura Beth felt like negotiating. After all, it would surely be good practice for dealing with Councilman Sparks. “Two-for-one drinks or a half-price dessert?”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Periwinkle said, extending her hand to shake on it. “But okay, it's a deal. I have more customers who prefer sweets over liquor anyway.”

But Maura Beth kept on pressing. “I figure it makes my library card a more valuable commodity and encourages people to drop by The Twinkle even more than they do now. I'll have some new flyers printed up. I'm sure Connie will go along with it.”

Periwinkle was chuckling now. “Okay, girl, you've sold me. You can let up. Besides, I only have two desserts on the menu—my sherry custard and my bread pudding. They're pretty cost-effective.”

Then it flashed into Maura Beth's head that she had other work to accomplish at The Twinkle on this autumn evening, and Periwinkle's mention of expanding the menu had triggered it. “You know, I think it's ambitious of you to want to offer more dishes to your customers as time goes by. All successful restaurants do it, and The Twinkle certainly qualifies as successful.”

“Yes, I'm doing better than I ever dreamed, and much sooner than I thought,” Periwinkle admitted. “It's got my ex-husband, Harlan, green with envy that he let me get away. And what I have to say to him is, ‘Tough pork chops!' ”

“I love it!” Maura Beth exclaimed, enjoying a big laugh. Then she leaned in and gave Periwinkle her most studied gaze. “I know a way you can expand your menu right now and get raves in the process—no hit or miss dishes, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

Periwinkle stopped her gum. “Now this I have to hear.”

“No, I'm perfectly serious. Cherico is once again the home of the Memphis Grand Shelby Hotel's former illustrious pastry chef, Mr. Parker Place. The hotel was recently torn down and he's flat out of a job, but more importantly, he's dying to get back to work making his fabulous desserts for some lucky restaurant and its customers.”

“And you know this how?”

Maura Beth recanted her morning visit with Mr. Place and went straight for the payoff. “Do you think you can take on a pastry chef? You said yourself you only had two desserts on the menu.”

Periwinkle began mulling things over, but Maura Beth could discern the interest in her face. “I can certainly afford to take on a pastry chef, if that's what you mean,” she said finally. “I guess it would just be a question of Mr. Place's salary expectations. I probably can't afford to pay him what the Grand Shelby Hotel was paying him.”

“But you'll never know what he'll accept until you ask him.”

“That's true. Girl, are you his agent or something?”

They both laughed, and Maura Beth said, “No, it just came to me a few minutes ago. I didn't even think of it this afternoon when he was sitting in my office. So, will you interview him and see what happens? I have his phone number from his book club sign-up today. I'll get it to you tomorrow.”