The Reading Circle Page 10

  Maura Beth quickly moved into the breach. “That was certainly a speech from the heart, Miss Voncille. You’ve touched on so many good points. Group, shall we discuss any of this further?”

  It was Sarah Key Darwin who spoke up next. “The thing is, the Vietnam War is not a subject that lends itself to such easy analysis. I think the biggest problem most people have in resolving the subject today is that so many soldiers thought they were being patriotic in becoming a part of the military effort. Back then, it was the definition of being an American, and you didn’t ask questions the way people do now about everything. The simpleton aspects of Forrest Gump’s character reflect that precisely. It was what you were supposed to do without thinking.”

  “What are you saying?” Miss Voncille said, her tone tinged with anger. “I’ll have you know my Frank was no simpleton. He was a brave and thoughtful man. He knew what he was getting into, and I know for a fact that he found time while he was deployed over there to weigh the consequences of the war. I have his beautiful letters to prove it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to attack your friend personally. What I meant was, we’d have been far better off if more people had questioned our presence in Vietnam from the get-go,” Sarah Key returned, refusing to back down.

  Miss Voncille got to her feet, even though Locke Linwood made an effort to restrain her. “I just have to ask—how old are you?” she said, pointing her finger directly at Sarah Key.

  “I beg your pardon? What has that got to do with anything?”

  “Never mind,” Miss Voncille continued. “You’re probably one of those people who views history as something to revise constantly, omitting the truth when it suits your agenda. You have no idea what some of us lived through in the last century!”

  “Please, ladies,” Maura Beth said, trying to calm things down. “We don’t need to get personal here. This is supposed to be a polite discussion. Let’s keep that in mind as we proceed.”

  “But she doesn’t even know me!” Miss Voncille insisted, completely ignoring Maura Beth’s plea for restraint. “And she certainly didn’t know my Frank. Here she is forty-something years later with her political hindsight and easy answers that come with it. Implying that the men who signed up for duty in Vietnam were dolts of some kind is completely out of line!”

  Maura Beth was surprised to see that Sarah Key continued to fuel the fire. “No, not dolts, but definitely manipulated. More to the point, I think, is the fact that if we don’t learn from the lessons of history, we are doomed to repeat them. Why, look at all these little wars we still get involved in at the firing of a rocket or bullet? We seem to be a very trigger-happy country.”

  “Please, Voncille,” Locke said to Miss Voncille under his breath. “Don’t get your blood pressure up. This is getting out of hand.”

  “I will not be silenced!” Miss Voncille proclaimed, gesturing dismissively toward Sarah Key. “Who is this person, anyway, Maura Beth?”

  “No, you don’t need to ask her who I am. I can speak for myself. Sarah Key Darwin is the name,” came the curt reply, “and I was not aware that agreeing with everybody was a requirement of participating in The Cherry Cola Book Club. I certainly don’t remember it being on the flyer I read at The Twinkle.”

  “Of course it isn’t a requirement,” Maura Beth put in, determined to restore order but sensing it all slipping away. “No book club worth its salt would ever discourage differences of opinion.”

  Miss Voncille bristled. “This is more than that, I’m afraid. As far as I’m concerned, this woman is going out of her way to be disrespectful to me and to the memory of Frank Gibbons and the many other men like him!”

  Sarah Key rose to her feet, turning up her nose as she faced the podium. “Maura Beth, I’m sorry. But this is not what I had in mind when I decided to come here tonight. You are certainly a lovely person, and I’ve enjoyed meeting most of the rest of you. But if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than be insulted for disagreeing with someone. The last time I looked, this was still America!”

  “Oh, please don’t leave!” Maura Beth cried out.

  But it was to no avail as Sarah Key turned on her heels and marched out of the library in a huff.

  “Good riddance!” Miss Voncille exclaimed, sitting down at last and folding her arms in disgust.

  The uneasiness in the air was palpable as everyone else sat stupefied, and Maura Beth quickly glanced at the front desk clock. Perhaps it was time to pull the plug before more confrontation reared its ugly head. These meetings of The Cherry Cola Book Club had been cut short all too often by something unforeseen. Would they ever go according to plan?

  “Well, I certainly hadn’t anticipated anything like that,” Maura Beth began, forcing herself to smile. “But maybe we’ve accomplished all we can here tonight.” She brandished and then thumped her notes for all to see. “We certainly got around to the football angle—or angles I should say—and, of course, the controversial Vietnam angle; and a couple of other things emerged as well about Winston Groom’s work. Unless anyone else has something to add, shall we adjourn?”

  “If you don’t mind, there was something I wanted to contribute,” James Hannigan said, timidly raising his hand. “And it was about football being a religion and all. It was just that I have this friend who is a big Arkansas Razorback fan, and it used to be that the Texas Longhorns were their biggest rival back when they both played in the old Southwest Conference. My friend Johnny told me about this sign he saw once on a church marquee up in Fayetteville that read, ‘FOOTBALL IS ONLY A GAME. SPIRITUAL THINGS ARE ETERNAL. NEVERTHELESS, BEAT TEXAS.’ ”

  The pall that Miss Voncille and Sarah Key had generated quickly dissolved into easy laughter, and when it finally died down, Maura Beth said, “Thanks, Mr. Hannigan. We definitely needed that. So, on that note, shall we adjourn?”

  “Fine by me,” Miss Voncille said, obviously still holding on to her pique. This was followed by similar utterances from the others.

  It was Connie, however, who reminded Maura Beth of something important. “Don’t we need to discuss our next read? Or were we just going to resurrect The Robber Bridegroom ? We’ve had Eudora Welty waiting in the wings for her cue for what seems like forever.”

  Maura Beth chuckled and immediately went back to her notes. “Good catch, Connie. I had another suggestion, however. Since I’m originally from Louisiana and we have quite the flamboyant reputation for politicians down in the Pelican State, I thought we might consider reading All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren. It’s another Pulitzer Prize winner like To Kill a Mockingbird. Some of you may know that the novel takes its inspiration from the reign of Louisiana Governor Huey P. Long, who was assassinated on the steps of the capitol in Baton Rouge. The same thing happens to the fictional Governor Willie Stark in this novel. Naturally, our very own Councilman Durden Sparks came to mind, particularly all the trouble we’ve had lately with him and his cronies. Of course, I trust all of you know I’m not encouraging any gunplay here on the steps of City Hall.”

  More much-needed laughter erupted. But when it finally died down, it was Connie who reacted first. “Poor Miz Eudora, a Southern legend being swept under the rug twice now.”

  “Well, how about this?” Maura Beth said, thinking on her feet. “We could go ahead and approve our next two reads, if you’d like. First, All the King’s Men, then The Robber Bridegroom. ”

  There was general buzzing throughout the room, but soon enough they were taking a vote on Maura Beth’s suggestion. It won unanimously, and the date for the next meeting of The Cherry Cola Book Club was set for the second Sunday in May.

  “You’ve been keeping things from me, haven’t you?” Maura Beth was saying to Periwinkle as the two of them visited in her library office after everyone else had left. For his part, Harlan had headed out to pick up a few odds and ends he needed at The Cherico Market and would return in about a half hour for his ex-wife. Meanwhile, Maura Beth’s curiosity had been ratcheted up several
more notches. “I thought the deal was, we were supposed to keep each other up to date about the men in our lives.”

  Periwinkle looked down at her lap, entwining her fingers in a display of nervous energy. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. Things just moved along a lot faster than I thought they would. I mean, it was just a drink here, another little dinner there, not to mention lots and lots of phone calls, and I guess he just wore me down after a while. I was going to tell you everything sooner or later, though.” There was an awkward pause, and somehow Maura Beth sensed what was coming next. “And, yes, I’ve gone to bed with him—after all these years. In fact, that’s why we were late. Can you believe it?”

  Maura Beth leaned back in her chair and scratched her head, trying her best not to sound as surprised as she was. “Wow! It seems things really have moved along fast for you. The last time we chatted about this, you were more impressed with Mr. Place than Harlan.”

  Periwinkle gave a sweet little shudder and her eyes went all dreamy for a second or two, reminding Maura Beth of a teenager getting ready to share her innermost secrets with her slumber-party girlfriends. “Oh, Parker is still attentive in that professional way of his, but things have changed dramatically with Harlan. I know this sounds crazy, but it was like it used to be when Harlan and I were first dating. It was like no time had passed at all. I really believe he’s a changed man, I really do. Despite everything that was said here tonight about men and women not getting along for the most ridiculous reasons, I think there are times they can come together for all the right reasons. When that happens, there’s nothing better in the whole world.”

  Maura Beth considered her reaction carefully. She had never seen Periwinkle acting this way and must not give her friend the impression that she was cynical or disapproving. “Well, what can I say? I’m very happy for you.” Then she reached across the desk and patted Periwinkle’s hand a couple of times—a completely unconvincing display, as it turned out.

  “Something’s bothering you, I can tell. I know you too well, Maura Beth.”

  “No.” Then Maura Beth decided to tell the truth. “Yes, I just have one question, and then I’d like to give you a real, honest-to-goodness hug, no matter what.”

  “Shoot!”

  “You two didn’t do it back in that . . . you know, that god-awful room you decorated, did you? Oops, I meant the room was god-awful, not your decorating.”

  Periwinkle produced her usual hearty laugh and waved her off. “I knew what you meant, girl. And absolutely not—he was telling the truth. He really did convert that little sex den of his into more pantry space—all extra jars of relish and bottles of ketchup galore. I got to see for myself when he gave me the grand tour. No, we got reacquainted, so to speak, back at his new place. Which I have to admit, he’s done up right nicely all by himself.”

  Maura Beth got to her feet, feeling tremendously reassured. “That’s good enough for me. You come right around here pronto, and let’s have that big hug.”

  “So what’s the latest with you and Jeremy?” Periwinkle said, after they’d pulled away from each other a few seconds later.

  Maura Beth plopped back down in her chair and sighed while Periwinkle again took her seat. “No change. Oh, I’ve had my moments of weakness when I picked up the phone and started to punch in his number. And just the other day, I composed this spectacularly emotional e-mail, asking him to give us a chance to start over. But I didn’t have the guts to send it. I guess tonight tells me everything I need to know.”

  “Which is?”

  Maura Beth gently massaged her eyelids with the tips of her fingers and then brought her hands together prayerfully in one smooth motion. “Which is that he knew well in advance about the review tonight and how much I wanted him here, even if he never opened his mouth. I told him how much his presence would mean to me, but it appears it meant nothing to him. So I have to conclude that it’s really over between us. He’s obviously not interested anymore, and it’s high time I got that through this red head of mine.”

  Periwinkle moved to her side quickly, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry, girl. Nobody knows better than I do how tricky things can be in this battle of the sexes. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.”

  10

  Youthful Indiscretions

  Councilman Sparks was seated behind his plush office desk, biding his time while playing tic-tac-toe against himself on his notepad. It was about a quarter to nine, and he knew his proxy would be arriving any minute with her report. This was fun, playing games with Maura Beth and her busybody friends, but he fully intended to enforce the terms of the one-year reprieve he had reluctantly granted to her precious library. Voter petitions be damned—he knew what was best for Greater Cherico and how to continue the sort of tangible legacy his father and Layton Duddney had begun. Charles Durden Sparks would leave his name on some building or project in the general vicinity for posterity, or there was no justice in the world!

  After all, it was resourceful politicians, not inconsequential librarians like Maura Beth Mayhew and her predecessor, Annie Scott, who had put money into the infrastructure that today’s Chericoans took for granted. True, the Sparks and Duddney families had siphoned off a percentage for themselves and their posterity here and there. But they had been careful not to leave a paper trail and had never neglected the public good.

  Momentarily, the attractive woman who had attended the meeting of The Cherry Cola Book Club at his clandestine bidding appeared, posing in come-hither fashion against the door frame. What could only be described as a wicked smile dominated her face.

  “Is that what you wore, Sylvie?” Councilman Sparks said, looking her over from head to toe. “You remind me of either a witch or a vampire. Inspired by what all the kids are reading and watching on TV these days, were you?”

  “Funny you should say that. I used that line about the vampire myself, as I recall,” Sylvie said, sitting down across from him and leaning in to better present her cleavage for his inspection. “And for the record, I was Sarah Key Darwin for the evening. I had a really tough time keeping a straight face every time I heard your librarian friend call me that. Can you imagine? Such a name and they believed it? Don’t know how I came up with it. Except I’ve always thought Charles Darwin was a marvelously adventurous soul, and someday I’d like to travel to Key West. Wouldn’t mind retiring there, as a matter of fact. Do you think you could arrange it for me one fine day?”

  He muttered something under his breath.

  “Was that a ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Durden?”

  “That was a ‘we’ll see.’ But please, your summary of the evening.”

  “First, I will admit your Maura Beth’s a looker. I can see why you’re smitten; that is, if redheads are your type.”

  “Never mind that. How many people were there?”

  “I counted forty-five.”

  He was gazing at the ceiling now, finally nodding his head sharply when he had finished his mental review. “Good. That’s not quite as many as they had in November for To Kill a Mockingbird. I knew that was a dog and pony show Miz Mayhew went all out to stage. They can’t sustain that momentum. By the end of the year, I’ll have all the ammunition I need to shut her down.”

  Sylvie Louise Morgenthal, as she had been christened by her late parents, then began recounting in earnest everything pertinent that had occurred, while Councilman Sparks listened intently, taking a few notes along the way.

  “You came up from Jackson to nurse your biker brother? He was in a really bad wreck, was he?” he interrupted after she’d gotten to that part. “The things you come up with. I think I’d believe it, though. You always did have a good imagination.” But he perked up considerably when she reached the argument she had managed to provoke with Miss Voncille about the Vietnam War.

  “It was a walk in the park,” she was saying. “You’d have thought she was addressing the United Nations the way she went on and on with her moral high ground approach and ever
ything. Oh, she couldn’t be bothered with a different viewpoint. Not that one with the prim, salt-and-pepper hair. It wasn’t too hard to zero in on her soft spot.”

  “Good deal. Miss Voncille Nettles was just as prickly as her last name when she taught me in school way back when. I know she resented my abilities. I could debate the pants off anyone who ever went to Cherico High School, but she was always about putting a damper on me and holding me down. I bet you really got under her skin with the Vietnam thing.”

  Sylvie tossed back her long hair as she enjoyed a laugh. “Oh, you should have seen me. It was an Oscar-winning performance the way I spewed political rhetoric and then stormed out of there like a whirling dervish. You could have heard a pin drop in the place as they all watched me leave. I hung around outside in my car for a while, and the place emptied out not too long after I made my grand exit. All in all, I think I was effectively rude and subversive, take your pick.”

  “I know the feeling,” he said. Then he furrowed his brow ever so slightly. “But for future reference, nurses don’t generally go out dressed like that. They’re serious people, and they have their reputations to consider. Florence Nightingale may be turning over in her grave even as we speak.”

  “Florence Nightingale may have had her own secrets. Who knows? Most people do, including you.” Then she rose and turned to point her shapely, black-clad posterior at him, wiggling it with abandon. “Too bad you’re so hung up on redheads these days, Durden.”

  “Stop that, Sylvie.” He sounded like a drill sergeant barking orders. Then he lowered his voice as she reluctantly obeyed him. “That part of our relationship is way over, but I’ve always appreciated what you’ve done for me and Chunky and Gopher Joe when we needed you.”

  She shrugged, her eyes looking glazed and lifeless, better suited to a mannequin. “Hey, sometimes the money works. Sometimes the woman works. Whichever gets you guys the votes you need, right?”