The Cherry Cola Book Club - By Ashton Lee Page 0,31

both laughed. Then Maura Beth said, “I was thinking that you could use our audio books to liven up your travel. Our selection is modest due to our budget, but the patrons that use them swear by them. So, what do you say? How about joining the club officially by being a good listener?”

Periwinkle was all smiles. “I think you should recruit for the Army, girl. I’m all ready to sign up under those circumstances.”

“Wonderful!” Maura Beth exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “We’ll finally get you a card, and we can take it from there.”

“And how about if I send over something extra to the buffet this time? Like my aspic.”

Maura Beth cut her eyes to the side with a saucy smile. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Of course, I’ll keep handing out your flyers to my customers. I assume you’ll be printing up a new one for the Mockingbird book?”

“That’s the plan.”

Then Periwinkle grew serious, briefly stopping her gum and leaning in. “So do you think all this’ll be enough to keep those weasels at the City Council from shutting you down?”

Maura Beth sighed plaintively. “Too early to tell. It’s very hard to predict Councilman Sparks. All I can do is plug away.”

6

Back in the Saddle Again

Miss Voncille’s tidy cottage on Painter Street was one of two dozen or so homes in Cherico built around the turn of the twentieth century in the Queen Anne style and had been the only thing of value she had inherited from her parents, Walker and Annis Nettles. It was graced by a small but immaculately manicured front yard featuring a mature fig tree on one side of its brick walkway and a fanciful, green ceramic birdbath on the other.

“Isn’t this quaint!” Maura Beth exclaimed, as she and Connie stood in front of it early one humid August morning.

“Exactly the sort of place I would expect Miss Voncille to live,” Connie added. “Very spinster schoolteacher-ish.”

Just then Miss Voncille spotted them and flung open the front door. “You’re right on time, ladies!” she called out. “Come on in. I’ve got coffee, hot biscuits, and green-pepper jelly waiting for you. We have about fifteen minutes to eat before Becca’s show starts!”

Once inside, Maura Beth was surprised to discover a veritable jungle of potted palms set in sturdy ceramic containers. Some were enormous and obviously quite mature, their fronds spreading out like great, spraying fountains. Others were much smaller and newer, but there was hardly a nook or cranny in the front part of the house without them. Nor were they absent in Miss Voncille’s bright yellow kitchen, where the three ladies eventually sat down to breakfast in a cozy little nook.

“I’ve got the station tuned in and everything. All I have to do is turn it on,” Miss Voncille explained, as she poured steaming coffee all around. “Please, help yourselves to biscuits. Everything’s homemade, including the jelly. I grow the peppers myself in the backyard.”

After everyone had sufficiently fussed enough to fix their plates, Maura Beth began making small talk. “I just think it was so generous of you to invite us over here for Becca’s first ‘Downsizing with Comfort Food’ show. She called me up yesterday to tell me how pleased she was that we were all getting together to hear it. She’s a bit nervous about it.”

“Oh, I know, but it’s the least I could do since I put the idea in her head,” Miss Voncille said, after swallowing a bite of biscuit. “Besides, she’s given me so many great cooking ideas over the years, I want to support her any way I can.”

“We all do,” Connie added. “From what she’s told us, she needs every bit of help she can muster in getting her Stout Fella into shape.”

Miss Voncille took a sip of her coffee and drew herself up with great authority. “Ladies, I just love the way we’re getting to know each other. I don’t have to tell you that I haven’t been terribly social over the years. And I don’t consider pontificating about genealogy to qualify, either. That’s why participating in the club is doing me so much good. It’s just what I need, and I thank you again for prodding me to join, Maura Beth. So, I wanted to take the bull by the horns and explain all these potted palms in the house.”

The comment took both Maura Beth and Connie by surprise. Neither would have dreamed of bringing up the subject, but it was Maura Beth who found something to