The Cherry Cola Book Club - By Ashton Lee Page 0,46
her Stout Fella was being prepped for travel and there was no more time for visitors that Becca finally gave in, and the vigil officially came to an end—at least in Cherico.
“What time do you think you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Maura Beth asked the McShays on the way down in the elevator.
They exchanged glances and then turned toward Becca. “Six-thirty okay with you? We can go up the Natchez Trace Parkway and be in Nashville well before nine,” Douglas said. “That’s the way we’ve gone back and forth for our vacation time these past six years.”
Becca offered no resistance, nodding slowly while briefly closing her eyes.
“Of course. You have no choice but to get up bright and early,” Maura Beth observed. “And you might need something besides a cup or two of coffee to keep you focused on the way up.”
Connie looked at her sideways. “What on earth are you talking about? Speed? Douglas and I have never gone there, and I worked many an all-nighter at the hospital to tempt me.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s nothing like that. I’ve just had this absolutely inspirational idea, and the closer you get to Nashville, the more excited you’ll be about it,” Maura Beth continued as the elevator doors opened. “I’d like for you to follow me and pop into the library after we leave the hospital. I promise this will only take a few minutes.”
Douglas shrugged. “Okay, might as well. Nothing else has gone by the book this evening.”
It was Connie who accompanied Maura Beth into the library once Douglas had pulled the car up in front of the portico, idling the engine with a drowsy, emotionally exhausted Becca slumped in the backseat. “I hope you’re not going to offer us all the book club leftovers hiding out in your library fridge,” Connie remarked. “If not, I can’t imagine what you could possibly have up your sleeve.”
Maura Beth laughed as she unlocked her office door. “Oh, I assure you, it’ll make all of you feel better once you get to Nashville and get to visit with Stout Fella in his hospital room.” She walked over to her desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. “Aha, I was right. My memory is not failing. I did put them in here.” Then she handed Connie the big bag of balloons she had decided not to use for the Gone with the Wind meeting. “I’d hold off on blowing them up now, but they might make a terrific day-brightener when you walk in and say hello to Stout Fella. You can tell him they’re from everybody in The Cherry Cola Book Club with their very best wishes for a speedy recovery.”
Connie’s face lit up as she stared down at the bag. “In honor of his balloon angioplasty, I presume?”
“There’s no other kind in my experience,” Connie added. “Maura Beth, you come up with the cleverest ideas. Did they by any chance teach you that in library school?”
“I don’t remember the course offering, actually. I think I must have an extracurricular type of brain.”
They both laughed, and then Maura Beth leaned down and retrieved a ball of twine from the drawer. “You might also need this to tie the balloons off and string them together. You can make a balloon bouquet of sorts. I think you have to pay a fortune if you order them through one of those delivery services, but I’m going to set you up from scratch real cheap.”
Next, she picked up a Magic Marker from a coffee mug atop her desk. “Here’s something else you’ll need. You can write, ‘Get Well!’ or whatever you want once you’ve blown them up. Just be gentle with the marker. I popped one of the balloons pressing down too hard once way back when, and I thought someone had shot me at point-blank range. Other than that, all you and Douglas need is a little carbon dioxide. But don’t blow too hard, pass out, and conk yourself on the head. We don’t need you in the hospital, too.”
Connie gave her a heartfelt hug and pulled back. “I can’t believe there’s even the slightest possibility that you might be leaving us. Cherico needs more people like you. And I feel so bad that our meeting tonight got sidetracked. You went to so much trouble, and I was looking forward to getting my teeth into To Kill a Mockingbird again. Actually, I was proud that Douglas was, too. That sneaky man