The Wedding Circle Read online

  He tried to repeat the word, but her severe pinching and squeezing were making mincemeat of his efforts.

  Finally, Evie stepped in protectively. “I think you should stop manipulating my husband’s lips like that.”

  Cudd’n M’Dear continued making a putty face of his features. “Oh, he looks so cute this way. I just can’t resist.” She pouted her own lips in an exaggerated fashion. “Muh, Muh, Muh. Just like a great big batch of Play-Doh.”

  Evie’s eyes narrowed drastically. “Well, perhaps you should seriously think about trying.”

  “Why, of course. I will admit I do get carried away sometimes. It’s just that my name has always been a mouthful, and I want to give everyone the opportunity to get it absolutely right.”

  Maura Beth was barely able to suppress outright laughter as Councilman Sparks’s face returned somewhat to normal. “Oh, Cudd’n M’Dear has cut a wide swathe between here and New Orleans, haven’t you?”

  “Indeed, I have. I’ve been on a mission of sorts, you see. Would you like to hear all about it, Councilman?”

  He made a weak attempt at smiling after flexing his jaw a few times. “Yes . . . of course.”

  “Well, on the way up for the wedding, I had Father Hickock get off the interstate and stop at several of these small-town libraries. Oh, I strictly played it by ear. And do you know what I did, Councilman?”

  He shook his head warily.

  “I went right on in, announced myself to those librarians, and made donations to them all. Wrote checks to them right then and there. You see, I’m rather a wealthy woman, but I’m very particular about how I spend my money. Because I fully realize that I actually didn’t make a cent of it myself—I inherited just oodles of it. Luck of the draw, I suppose. But then it always makes you feel a bit guilty when you go around living high on the hog on someone else’s money, pretending that it’s yours and acting like you’re a big deal, don’t you think? Or do you not happen to know anyone like that?”

  Maura Beth could see that Councilman Sparks suddenly had his guard up. She knew that calculating expression of his only too well. Nonetheless, she fully intended for the fun to continue, or—as they were fond of saying in Cherico—the dogs would keep howling at the raccoon they had just treed.

  “Ummm-hmmm,” he said, cutting his eyes at his wife.

  “And so,” Cudd’n M’Dear continued, “what better use of my money could I make than to support libraries. They are, in fact, the repositories of our culture. They tell us where we’ve been, where we are now, and where we’re headed, don’t you agree, Councilman? Or are you a ‘fill the potholes only’ kind of public official? We have a lot of that down in Louisiana, you know. It’s the ghost of Huey Long on the prowl, I always say.”

  He hesitated briefly, obviously steeling himself. “I can confidently state that I serve the public in various ways. That’s always been my objective, and I believe I’ve lived up to it.”

  “Oh, I’d say he definitely has. After all, our new library will be named for Durden,” Maura Beth said. “And a few others who’ve also inherited lots of money. Amazing what a little guilt will do, right, Councilman?”

  He again exchanged glances with his wife and cleared his throat. “I think generosity would be a better word to use at this point, and I’m sure those libraries greatly appreciated your contributions. But for now, I think I’ve commented sufficiently on the situation at hand.”

  “And I was thinking,” Cudd’n M’Dear added, almost as if she hadn’t heard the councilman’s response. “Perhaps I should consider making a substantial donation to the public coffers of Cherico.”

  Councilman Sparks snapped to attention as he always did under such circumstances. “Oh?”

  “Yes, but only under certain conditions, you understand. I’m a stickler when it comes to my money.”

  “And what would those conditions be?”

  Cudd’n M’Dear filled her chest with air and lifted her profile dramatically. “That there must be a quarterly accounting of the money’s investment and return, and that it only be available as a slush fund for the new library. Under no circumstances should it be used for the general fund or for any other purpose. In addition, it is to be drawn upon annually for cost-of-living salary increases for library employees only. If there are any violations of these policies, I will come after the Cherico powers-that-be with a vengeance. I just love my lawyers to pieces, and you wouldn’t believe how fond they are of me, what with the retainers I lavish upon them. So, are these terms acceptable to you, Councilman? I’m talking a million dollars here. A supervised, fully accounted for million.”

  “I can certainly accept those terms, My Dear,” he stated as evenly as possible, though his ever-widening eyes gave the game away.

  “Now, don’t make me have to play with your lips again, Councilman. Remember, it’s Muh, Muh, Muh,” she said, making a crab claw of her fingers and bringing them perilously close to his face. “Repeat after me—Muh, Muh, Muh.”

  Councilman Sparks managed a passable imitation of the sound, but then shot daggers at Maura Beth.

  “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cudd’n M’Dear said with a playful lilt. “I do believe I’ll stay over a little longer so you and I can talk a little business. These dotted lines can be so bothersome, can’t they?”

  Maura Beth continued to play the game. “Isn’t that thrilling, Councilman Sparks? Why, I don’t believe City Hall will ever have to worry about the library’s finances again!”

  “Yes,” he answered, his jaw set firmly. “No worries for the Cherico Library ever again.”

  Then Cudd’n M’Dear sallied forth with another of her grand non sequiturs. “And speaking of Huey Long, I feel it is my duty to point out the tendency of men in a position of power to abuse their office. Particularly when it comes to the subject of women working under them.” She winked smartly at Evie as if they were best girlfriends. “The wife is always the last to know.”

  Evie bristled. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, nothing, sweetie. I’ve been bombarded with all these rumors ever since I arrived this weekend. But I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. There’s probably nothing to them. You know how people will talk when they’ve gotten a few under their belts.”

  Maura Beth sensed that both Councilman Sparks and Evie had reached their limit, and she decided to call off the dogs at last. “Let’s have no more idle gossiping on my wedding day, Cudd’n M’Dear.”

  “Yes,” Evie snapped, “let’s don’t!”

  Momentarily, Councilman Sparks recovered his composure, and his customary vote-getting smile returned. “Well, this has been most pleasant meeting you, Muh Dear,” he said, “and you must call me Monday so we can talk about your generous contribution. But right now, the wife and I must make the rounds and chat with all the constituents, you know.”

  “I completely understand,” said Cudd’n M’Dear. “A politician is always dabbling in something or other.”

  Councilman Sparks managed a quick nod in her general direction. “I’ll look forward to your call. Talk to you then.”

  Once he and Evie had blended into the crowd and were out of earshot, Maura Beth flung her arms around Cudd’n M’Dear’s neck. “You definitely missed your calling. You should have been either an actress or an international spy. I thought I was going to explode trying not to laugh when you did that rubbery thing with his face. That was a complete surprise.”

  “Oh, just a spur-of-the-moment inspiration. But you kept describing him as always having a smug expression, so I decided to do something about it. I must admit I enjoyed it tremendously. It was like kneading modeling clay or even finger painting—the sort of thing children like to do in nursery school.”

  Maura Beth pulled back and gazed at her cousin admiringly. “Seriously, though, I can’t thank you enough for what you’re going to do for the library. I could easily picture myself fighting Councilman Sparks every year for employee raises. He would find some excuse not to give
them. But that will no longer be an issue—you’ve taken it out of his grubby hands completely.”

  Cudd’n M’Dear looked nothing short of triumphant. “You’ve toughed it out up here. You deserve for good things to happen to you. And a little birdie told me that you and Cara Lynn are on the same page at last on your career and life here in Cherico. I’m so glad I came and could do something to help in any way, Maura Beth. Meanwhile, I believe I’ll go for another piece of that boozy wedding cake of yours. Could I bring you another one, too?”

  Maura Beth clutched a hand to her décolletage dramatically. “Oh, dear God on a party cracker, no. If you do, I’ll have to be carried up the stairs to change my clothes!”

  Just as Cudd’n M’Dear wandered away laughing, however, Nora Duddney came up with a somewhat stout, shy-looking older man in tow. “Maura Beth, I’d like for you to meet my very own Wally Denver,” she said. “Now, forgive him if he doesn’t bubble over like I do these days. I think your very original wedding has overwhelmed him a little.”

  Maura Beth extended her hand, and her best public servant, librarian skills kicked in. “I’m so glad you could come, Mr. Denver. Or may I simply forget the formalities and call you Wally?”

  “Please,” he answered, averting his eyes. “I’d, uh, I think I’d like that.”

  Maura Beth could easily see why Nora had fallen for him. He had the persona of a sweet, huggable teddy bear, an overgrown children’s bedtime toy, and she had to fight every impulse to keep from hugging him herself.

  “Then Wally it is. And you must call me Maura Beth. Just remember that I’m a McShay now. You’ll have to remember that, too, Nora.”

  “Yes—Miz Maura Beth McShay. It just occurred to me that you won’t even have to change the monograms on your towels.”

  They both chuckled, and Maura Beth said, “And don’t you dare believe those rumors that that’s the real reason I decided to marry Jeremy. So, Wally, what brought you to our little town of Greater Cherico?”

  “Well, um, I just retired, but some friends of mine—the Milners out at the lake, you may know them—anyway, I’ve visited them a time or two during the summer, and I thought to myself—Wally, whenever you stop running yourself ragged being a stockbroker, this might be a nice, quiet place to spend the rest of your life. And so here I am.”

  “Wally was living in Memphis, then in Collierville after his recent divorce,” Nora added, hanging on to his arm tightly. “He’s staying in the Milners’ guesthouse until he can find a place.” She wagged her brows. “He’s playing it by ear for now. Oh, and guess what—he’s a long-time library user! Another patron for you, Maura Beth. And a new member of The Cherry Cola Book Club, too. Isn’t that all just too exciting for words?!”

  Maura Beth was just about to answer when Jeremy came up and hooked his arm through hers. “Excuse me, folks, but it’s family picture time. All the McShays and all the Mayhews in the same frame, if it can be managed. It’s all about the wedding album, you know. Or the video or whatever’s in vogue these days.”

  “Don’t forget to say cheese!” Nora called out as the bride and groom hurried away.

  So the day’s festivities had now boiled down to this: Maura Beth at the top of the stairs getting ready to throw the bouquet to the bevy of clamoring females below. Among the candidates were Terra Munrow, Renette Posey, and Nora Duddney, and Maura Beth would have been thrilled to have had any one of them catch it. Not surprisingly, Elise McShay was standing on the far edge of the action with her arms folded and a look of supreme disinterest.

  “I’ll just sit this one out, if you don’t mind,” she had even told Maura Beth as the group gathered.

  But deep down, Maura Beth hoped Nora would be the one to out-jump and out-hustle the others. Both Terra and Renette were young—so very young—and would likely have many chances to get lucky in love. Now that Nora had introduced her Wally Denver around, however, Maura Beth’s intuition told her that the two of them might just be a match. And though catching a wedding bouquet actually had nothing to do with the rightness or wrongness of that perception, Nora winning out just seemed like it would put an exclamation point on the day’s activities.

  “Get ready, ladies. Up on your toes, now!” Maura Beth called out, turning her back to them.

  There was an outburst of high-pitched, squealing noises from down below, and then Maura Beth shut her eyes and tossed the bouquet over the balcony. By the time she had turned around, she saw that the impossible had happened: She was so off the mark with her fast and furious throw that the bouquet had landed in Elise’s hands.

  “How did that happen?” she asked Jeremy, who was standing beside her, rolling his eyes.

  “Actually, you almost hit Leesie in the face with it. Did you by any chance play fast-pitch softball? She practically caught it in self-defense.”

  “You have to have a do-over!” Elise cried out, brandishing the flowers as if she were handling a skunk. “I don’t want this!”

  “Nah, Leesie. No do-overs,” Jeremy told her, leaning over the balcony. “Just go ahead and toss it over your shoulder. That’ll work just as well!”

  Elise quickly did just that, and this time in all the confusion and jockeying for position, Nora did manage to catch it, much to Maura Beth’s great pleasure. The others applauded amidst scattered cries of “Brava!” “Way to go!” and “We’ll be sure and save the date!”

  “I guess I don’t know my own strength,” Maura Beth said, turning to Jeremy while the commotion continued below.

  “Well, Leesie was right, you know. You are a very strong woman. And I want to thank you again for writing that letter to her. She’d never let on, of course, but I bet she’s having a good time down there in spite of herself. After all, she got to make another of her political statements by refusing the bouquet.”

  Maura Beth couldn’t help but ask. “Do you think she’ll ever fall in love the way we did?”

  Jeremy gave her a conspiratorial wink and leaned in. “When she least expects it. That’s the way it happened to us, you know.”

  “Yep, we kinda became an instant item.”

  It was then that Cara Lynn and Susan emerged from the guest room, both pointing to their watches. “All right, you two—enough of this cozy chitchat. Time to change and catch that flight. I’m pretty certain they’re not going to hold that plane for you,” Cara Lynn said, pointing to different ends of the hallway. “Off to your separate corners right now!”

  Maura Beth and Jeremy quickly blew each other kisses, knowing that the next time they saw each other, their subtropical honeymoon would officially have begun.

  “Do you really think you’ll get that much writing done when we get to Key West?” Maura Beth was asking her new husband once the plane had reached cruising altitude and the lights had been dimmed. The cabin had a surreal, cocoon-like quality to it at the moment. “I’m thinking maybe I’ll be a little disappointed if you don’t get creative mostly with me.”

  He laughed good-naturedly and sipped his tiny, way-too-expensive cocktail. “And I’m thinking maybe I could end up building an entire novel around our honeymoon. It could be that fantastic, you know. They say the best writing always comes from life experience.”

  She leaned over and kissed him lightly. “That’s what I wanted to hear from you, of course.”

  “The way I see it, I can fully pay my respects to Hemingway and my wife without any problem or conflict. I envision them as two entirely different forms of special adoration.”

  “Oh, you do know just what to say to a girl.”

  They sat back for a while, listening to the steady roar of the engines. Finally, Maura Beth said, “I hope our first year together is all we think it’ll be. I do have this undeniable thing for Cherico, as you know. But it amazes me how often that crazy town finds ways to disappoint me just when I think everything is going my way. Do you think all those years of dealing with Councilman Sparks have made me paranoid? Say something soothing and reassuring to me. I’ve been put thro
ugh the wringer when you come right down to it.”

  Jeremy gave her an amused yet skeptical frown. “I think the worst just has to be over, Maurie. What could possibly go wrong now?”

  “I have no earthly idea,” she told him, gently resting her head on his shoulder. “But when we get back from the honeymoon, let’s don’t let our guard down for an instant. I mean not for anyone or anything.”

  He put his drink down on his tray table and took her hand gently into his. “No way we do that. I’ve got some young high-school minds to educate, and you’ll soon have a wonderful new library to move into. You’ll have the thrill of watching it take shape week by week and month by month. I’ll be building my way, and you’ll be building yours.”

  Maura Beth smiled as she mentally pictured the finished facility on the shores of Lake Cherico. She imagined herself walking hand in hand on the deck with Jeremy as they took it all in. The rippling water. The willows bending in the breeze. The towering pines and hardwoods nearby. Whoever was out fishing or swimming or skiing that day. Of course, that unforgettable setting sun that had adorned their wedding vows with such vibrant colors. All of those things would be a part of the new rhythm of their lives.

  More Treats from The Twinkle

  Our third recipe installment from Cherico, Mississippi, features a few more goodies from the menu of The Twinkle Twinkle Café, affectionately known as The Twinkle to all Greater Chericoans. This time, you’ll find everything from a dip perfect for cocktail parties to a scrumptious, elaborate cake, ready-made for an outside-the-box wedding. In between, there’s a treasured family recipe for chicken salad and two versions of Caprese salad. Little did my relatives know they would one day be working for an imaginary café in an imaginary town and having their recipes find their way into the homes of readers all over the country. Such is the universe created by fiction!