The Cherry Cola Book Club - By Ashton Lee Page 0,19
cookbook is forthcoming anyway,” she pointed out, proceeding carefully. “For now, though, I believe we need to concentrate on our famous Southern female writers and get firmly established. We can make the rest up as we go along.”
Becca settled back in her chair, offering up a pleasant little nod. “I’ll just keep everyone posted on the progress of my cookbook, then. And I’ll be more than happy to autograph copies when it comes out.”
“Very good. We’ll look forward to that,” Maura Beth continued, returning to her notes with a decided sense of relief. “Now, the next item I have down here is our club name. Are we all in agreement on The Cherico Page Turners? May I have a show of hands?”
Everyone except Councilman Sparks raised their hand briefly, but Connie continued to wave in the studied manner of Queen Elizabeth on the balcony at Buckingham Palace or a newly crowned Miss America walking the runway.
“Yes, Connie? Do you have something to add?”
“Well, I was just thinking, Maura Beth . . . maybe we should consider going with something original instead of copying somebody else.”
“But you were the one that told me all about The Music City Page Turners.”
“Yes, I know. But if you’ll bear with me. Something happened recently that I just have to share with y’all.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts, obviously amused by what she was about to reveal.
“Our daughter, Lindy, has been visiting us from Memphis with our little granddaughter, Melissa. We told Lindy we weren’t quite ready for visitors yet, but she wanted to come anyway. She said, ‘Melissa misses her Gigi and Paw.’ That’s what the little angel calls my husband, Douglas, and me. Anyway, she’s just eight, and she still has trouble with certain words—like Cherico, for instance. So after a few days, she said, ‘Gigi and Paw, I just love visitin’ with y’all here in Cherry Cola, Mis-’sippi! ’ We just thought it was the cutest thing ever. So I was wondering if we might consider calling ourselves The Cherry Cola Book Club instead of The Cherico Page Turners? What do you think?”
Subdued oohing, ahhing, and nodding rippled through the half-circle, and it was Miss Voncille who spoke up first. “I like it. It gets my vote. Locke, you’ll go along with it, won’t you?”
“Whatever you ladies prefer is fine with me,” he said, patting her hand. “I’m only here because of Sadie Hawkins sitting next to me.”
“But you didn’t say no to me, Locke Linwood!” Miss Voncille exclaimed, looking smug.
Becca then offered her approval, and finally Maura Beth chimed in. “It’s highly original, if nothing else. And since I haven’t had any logos printed up yet, I don’t see why we can’t change our minds. Ladies’ prerogative, as they say.”
All the women were chuckling or rolling their eyes, but it was Maura Beth who truly offered up the exclamation point. “As they also say—out of the mouths of babes. So, many thanks to your precious granddaughter, Connie. Looks like we’re now officially The Cherry Cola Book Club. Maybe the name alone will intrigue people enough to join.”
“And we could add the cherry cola part to the menus,” Becca suggested. “I mean, nothing spruces up a soft drink like dropping a few ice cubes and cherries into a tumbler and then giving it a shake or a stir with a swizzle stick. Add a twist of lime, and you’ve got a cola to remember—especially in the summer heat.”
Connie gave Becca a gentle nudge and chuckled softly. “That sounds marvelously refreshing, of course, but did anyone ever tell you that you talk like a recipe?”
“I’d be in trouble if I didn’t, considering the thousands of shows I’ve produced!” Becca exclaimed. “Oh, yes, my Stout Fella says all the time that I’m very fluent in listing ingredients!”
“What I want to know is how you keep that cute little figure of yours while hanging around the kitchen so much?” Connie continued. “Mine blew up on me years ago. My figure, not my kitchen, of course.”
Everyone present enjoyed a good laugh, and Becca said, “No big secret. I do all the cooking, but Stout Fella does all the eating around our house. He’s gained about forty-five pounds since we got married ten years ago. I really should put him on a diet for his own good. Last time he went to the doctor, his cholesterol was up in the stratosphere. If I could just stop him from ‘islanding’ his ice cream, for starters.”