The Reading Circle (9 page)

W
hat a cornucopia of delicious aromas and bright colors graced the buffet table of the March Cherry Cola Book Club meeting! First and foremost was the shrimp in deference to
Forrest Gump,
and it came in all varieties: garlic, barbequed with shell on; grilled; and finally, boiled with new potatoes and lemon wedges. Of course, all manner of dipping sauces, from red with ketchup to white with horseradish, were on hand as well. Then there were the football tailgating offerings: fried chicken wings and drumsticks, hot dogs, pulled pork, mustard and sweet pickle potato salad, smoky baked beans with bacon, taco makings, and all kinds of sandwiches from turkey and cheese to tuna fish, and for dessert—brownies, chocolate-chip cookies, fruit pies, and cheesecakes. To be sure, healthier fare was also available, so that Maura Beth was certain no one could possibly go hungry.

She was also pleased to see that the numbers of The Cherry Cola Book Club had held fairly steady since the
To Kill a Mockingbird
review back in November. Just about everyone who had attended then was present now for
Forrest Gump
—the Brachles, the McShays, Miss Voncille and Locke Linwood, the Crumpton sisters, Terra Munrow, and James Hannigan of The Cherico Market, just to name a few. She was especially thrilled to find Nora Duddney present, after having tracked down an unabridged audio copy of
Forrest Gump
for her listening pleasure and participation in the review. She even found a moment to take Nora aside to chat with her about it.

“Now that was one sure way to give dyslexia the old heave-ho, right?” Maura Beth said.

“It was a godsend,” came the cheerful reply. “I can't thank you enough. I'm feeling more and more connected to the world every day.”

Indeed, Nora Duddney's transformation from nearly mute bystander to interesting and involved human being had progressed by leaps and bounds since the two women had met earlier in the year. Maura Beth was quick to note Nora's choice of wardrobe—she had clearly gone shopping and bought an outfit that didn't look like a drab hand-me-down from her mother's closet. It consisted of a blouse dotted with sunflowers and an earth-toned skirt. Could the heart of spring be far behind? And was that lipstick and foundation skillfully applied to the woman's face?

“Well, I just wanted to say that I think you look fantastic. I love your new look!” Maura Beth told her after she'd wrapped up the impromptu fashion assessment. “And I hope you'll feel free to give your input in our discussion this evening.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I feel like I can take on anything now. I won't be afraid to express my opinion.”

There were also a couple of fresh faces to learn besides. The most intriguing was a tall, attractive, forty-something woman wearing a slinky, floor-length black outfit with her long black hair parted straight down the middle. The ensemble suggested an aging hippie who had spruced herself up just a tad bit for a cocktail party. She introduced herself to Maura Beth just after the two of them had finished serving themselves in the buffet line and found a couple of chairs next to each other.

“I'm Sarah Key Darwin,” she said, balancing her plate on her knees and offering her hand. “No relation to the evolutionist that I know of, of course. Please call me Sarah Key. All my friends do. This is my first meeting, and I'm very excited.”

Maura Beth thanked her for showing up, shook hands while identifying herself, and then rattled off a brief history of The Cherry Cola Book Club. “Are you from Cherico? I don't believe I've seen you around town.”

Sarah Key swallowed the bite of mushroom and asparagus casserole she had just speared so carefully and then energetically tapped her fork on the edge of her plate a couple of times. “Oh, this is scrumptious! And I can't wait to try the boiled shrimp! But to answer your question, I just came up from Jackson to look after my brother, Lanny, for a while. I'm sure I don't look the part tonight, but I'm actually a nurse. When I left Lanny's apartment this evening, he told me I looked just like a vampire. Or would that be a vampiress? Anyway, he's healing up after a terrible motorcycle wreck he was in. He's out of the hospital now, but I volunteered to look after him until he's back on his feet again.”

“Then the prognosis is good?”

Sarah Key nodded eagerly. “It is. But you wouldn't have thought so if you'd walked into the emergency room and seen him right after it happened. He cracked a couple of ribs, and his face was a mass of abrasions and contusions and—” She briefly glanced down at her food and then looked up with an apologetic expression on her face. “Oh, we're eating, aren't we? I probably should stop right this second with the gory details.”

“It's probably for the best, Sarah Key,” Maura Beth said, wincing noticeably. “I'm a bit squeamish about such things. But don't get me wrong, as I told my good friend Connie McShay—oh, she's a retired nurse by the way and she's here tonight—I appreciate all you medical professionals so much. I couldn't even begin to do what you do. But I pretty much get dizzy at the sight of blood.”

Sarah Key swallowed more of her casserole and made a quick hissing sound. “It doesn't come naturally to a lot of us, believe me. It's an acquired taste.” She paused, widening her eyes and repressing a grin. “Well, that really does make me sound like a female vampire, doesn't it?”

“No, but I like your sense of humor.”

The two women continued to eat and chat, but Maura Beth was unable to keep a peculiar sensation from nagging at her every now and then. She couldn't seem to maintain her focus the way she usually did. There was something about the conversation with this Sarah Key Darwin that was vaguely unsettling, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She shrugged it off soon enough, however. It was probably just her usual discomfort with anything even remotely connected with medical trauma and emergencies.

“I assume you're a reader, or you wouldn't be here,” Maura Beth was saying by the time they had finished. “I'm just curious, would you mind telling me how you found out about the club?”

“Oh, at The Twinkle on Commerce Street. I dropped in one evening for a quiet little dinner. Lanny was having a good day, and that sweet brother of mine told me I needed to take a break away from him. So I did. The minute I walked in the door, that very nice lady down there gave me a flyer along with the menu.”

Maura Beth was beaming. And then she took the time to explain her shared history with Periwinkle Lattimore.

“She sounds like most of the people living in Cherico,” Sarah Key said. “Lanny really likes it here. He works as a mechanic at Greater Cherico Ford, and he swears by how friendly everyone is. He's not a reader, though. I'm the booklover in the family. I read everything I can get my hands on, so when I found out about the book club, I didn't have to think twice about coming. Except I did ask Lanny about it, and he told me not to worry about him, and to go and have a good time.”

“Well, once again we're really glad to have you with us,” Maura Beth told her, glancing at the clock behind the front desk. “And it's nearly time to get the meat of our meeting under way. I hope you enjoy it.”

Maura Beth moved to the podium and was just about to open the proceedings when two latecomers walked through the front door. Periwinkle, she had been expecting, even though she had also been wondering why her best friend hadn't shown up earlier for the buffet and all the socializing. The woman knew how to cook food with the best of them, but she also liked to enjoy it, particularly when other people gave her a break from the kitchen and had to prepare it themselves. No dainty, picky, “Oh, I couldn't eat another bite,” girlie girl, she! The big surprise, however, was the tall, rugged man in jeans and boots trailing her with what looked like a copy of
Forrest Gump
in his hands. Now that had to be a last-minute development of some kind, since Periwinkle had not mentioned bringing anyone with her to the meeting.

“Sorry we're bringing up the rear like this,” Periwinkle announced, as the two of them found a couple of seats on the back row and quietly settled in. “Harlan and I got a little sidetracked.”

Maura Beth caught Periwinkle's gaze and playfully arched her eyebrows. There would be plenty of time after the review to extract the latest from her on what was going on with her “ex.”

Then she put that out of her mind but soon found herself replacing it with another, more personal and painfully emotional speculation. Why couldn't it have been Jeremy who had walked through that door at the last minute, giving her hope that their relationship was not over and done with? More to the point, why hadn't she just sent that e-mail she had spent the better part of an afternoon composing and offered him an olive branch of her own?

 

“Welcome to The Cherry Cola Book Club, and our first review and potluck of the year,” Maura Beth announced from her position behind the podium a few minutes later. “I know we've all enjoyed this delicious food that some of the members were kind enough to contribute. By the way, if you'd like to bring something for our next gathering, our very own Becca Broccoli Brachle is the person you want to talk to. Stand up so that everybody will know who you are, Becca. I'm sure she'll be happy to get together with you later and explain the ‘double-broccoli thing' if you're one of the few who doesn't know who she is or what on earth I'm talking about.”

There was muted laughter and a sprinkling of applause as Becca popped up briefly, nodding her head and waving.

“But now it's time to get down to club business,” Maura Beth continued. “As you all know, we will be reviewing and commenting on Winston Groom's
Forrest Gump.
First, let me call your attention to the movie posters we've placed around the room.” She began gesturing broadly. “On one side we have Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump sitting on that iconic bench by the bus stop, just waiting for someone to come along and listen to his stories. On the other side we have Tom Hanks accepting the Oscar he won for his outstanding portrayal.” She turned and pointed to the circulation desk. “And there at the checkout counter we have a capture of that celebrated actress Sally Field as the devoted Mrs. Gump.”

Connie McShay quickly raised her hand, jangling her multicolored, beaded bracelet to get everyone's attention. “And just for the record, folks, those posters didn't cost the library a cent. That was an issue last time out with certain local politicians who shall remain nameless but who are well-known to one and all.” Then she glanced around the room. “And unless they're hiding in the closet, none of them is present tonight.”

“Thank you, Connie,” Maura Beth said, winking at her friend smartly. “So back to our review tonight. We like to say here in the club that outside-the-box angles make for a livelier and more personal discussion, and we hope we'll achieve that once again.” She glanced down to consult her notes. “A couple of our esteemed members have already proposed questions, so I thought we would go ahead and tackle those first.”

She pointed toward Justin Brachle and Douglas McShay, who were sitting next to each other on the front row. “These two fellas here proposed that we discuss the football aspects of the
Forrest Gump
plot since the character played the game for Bear Bryant. From that starting point, I believe they intended to apply the old adage that football is indeed a religion here in our Deep South.”

“Who can deny that?” Becca said, shrugging her shoulders with a resigned expression on her face. “Our husbands are living proof. Certain wives, for that matter. Okay, I'll confess—I'm probably an example of football worship myself to a certain extent. But we women are nowhere near as bad as the men down here. They might find the time to go to church maybe once a year around Christmas if we nag them enough. On the other hand, you better believe they don't miss a college or pro game during the regular season, the bowl season, the playoffs, and, of course, they wouldn't dare miss the Super Bowl. That would be a betrayal of their gender.”

Justin raised his fist. “Super Bowl rules! Right, Doug?”

“Right!” But Douglas kept his hands in his lap as Connie gave him a skeptical stare.

“Maybe I should just come up there to the podium and remove all doubt about this,” Becca said, gesturing toward Maura Beth. “I have this little tale to tell. And it's all true, I swear.”

Maura Beth smiled back. “By all means. Enlighten us.”

Becca took the podium and in no time was in the midst of her story. “Well, to cut to the chase, I've kept in touch with some of my Chi O sisters since I graduated from Alabama.” She paused, took a deep breath, and let out a modest, “Roll, Tide!” There was a mixed reaction to her subdued cheer from the crowd, many of whom were fans of the two SEC schools in Mississippi, but Becca brushed off their lack of enthusiasm and continued.

“Sorry. I couldn't help it. As I said, it's not like I haven't taken part in this pigskin worship, too. I like to think that I've been more reasonable about it, of course. Anyway, back to the contact with my sorority sisters. You know the type of thing I'm getting at—you exchange Christmas cards with the newsletters that fall out when you open them up, birth announcements with pictures and so forth. Well, as it turns out, three of the girls I've kept up with somehow all managed to marry LSU grads, and the six of them do practically everything together. Now, what are the odds of that, I ask you? Sounds like some sort of lame reality show, doesn't it? But in the world of football, it's what's called a mixed marriage, and it's every bit as difficult to manage as one that involves race or religion, believe me. Sometimes it can get even worse. Perfect example was the 2011 season. It was for all the marbles for the 'Bama and LSU fans. LSU beat 'Bama during the regular season in Tuscaloosa, but my Tide beat the Tigers the second time when it counted down in the Superdome for the National Championship.”