The Cherry Cola Book Club - By Ashton Lee Page 0,69
here’s the big question: Is it a lot of trouble to prepare?”
“That’s the beauty of it. It’s quick and easy and guaranteed to help get and keep you in shape. By the way, Stout Fella, I know our listeners will want to know how many pounds you’ve dropped since we started you on our ‘Downsizing with Comfort Food’ regimen.”
At last, his sincerity broke through. “Twenty big ones and counting in a little more than five weeks, and I have to say, I don’t miss an ounce.”
“Wow! That’s quite an achievement. But my Stout Fella has also been improving his mind. As I’ve been telling you, he’s been reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the November 6th, seven-o’clock meeting of The Cherry Cola Book Club in the library. And now he’s finished it and ready to review it with his fellow Chericoans.”
“Yes, I am, and I just wanted to say how much fun I’ve had getting back into reading. You can, too, by using your library card. Let’s shake hands, have something good to eat, and talk about it on November 6th, why don’t we?”
Becca gave him a thumbs-up for the enthusiasm he was finally showing. “Great suggestion, Stout Fella. But for now, why don’t we get those turkey burgers started by listing all the ingredients you’ll need? First, of course, you’ll want to pick up some lean ground turkey at your supermarket. Be sure it’s fresh, and remember to leave time to thaw it if you buy it frozen. You want your meat to be pliable when you form your patties. Next, some seasoned salt, pepper, paprika, bread crumbs, honey mustard—”
Stout Fella’s cell phone suddenly buzzed on the kitchen counter, and he jumped up to answer it, cutting short their rehearsal. Despite the early hour, Becca knew it would be pointless to continue. He was talking to whoever was on the line in his real-estate, negotiating voice that had returned full force scarcely a week after his hospitalization.
But at least she had gotten him to take all his medications regularly, chew his food more slowly, get more rest, and go for those thirty-minute walks the doctor had recommended. Leaving nothing to chance or indifference anymore, she had wisely chosen to accompany him so it wouldn’t feel so much like work; and she’d dropped a couple of pounds herself in the process.
“I don’t care who that was at this ungodly hour or how close you are to a deal,” Becca admonished after he had hung up, clearly on one of his negotiating highs. “You and I are still due at the studio in twenty-five minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “Can’t disappoint my public. And for the record, I’m nowhere close to a deal yet.”
She finished her last bite of cereal and gave him a warm smile. “As long as you take your time.”
He returned to the last of his yogurt and then looked up with a quizzical expression. “Do you think all these plugs you’ve been giving the book club will actually work?”
“Judging by the e-mails I’ve been getting, I have to say it looks promising. Some of my listeners say they’ll drop by and see what all this hoopla is about. But one lady said she didn’t know the library was still open. That’s not good. I’m not about to tell Maura Beth about that one. So my opinion is that we can’t plug away at this enough.”
In the weeks leading up to November 6, no one in the club worked harder at promoting the Mockingbird event than Maura Beth did. Picking up on her theme of an under-the-radar political campaign, she explored every nook and cranny of Cherico with her flyers and unflagging charm. She was out of the library more than she was in, but the ever-dependable Renette always covered for her beautifully, and the small cadre of loyal patrons never knew the difference.
On one of her appointments at her trendy salon, Cherico Tresses, Maura Beth talked up a storm to her tall, blond stylist with the edgy, geometric cut, Terra Munrow, after getting permission to leave a stack of flyers on the faux-marble front counter. To be sure, this was not your grandmother’s beauty parlor, given over largely to henna and blue rinses. The clients were mostly younger women, many of them single and therefore still searching for a suitable partner. Perhaps, Maura Beth reasoned, a decent percentage of them might also be readers.
“My goodness,” Terra told her favorite customer as she applied a towel to her dripping-wet