Free The Cherry Cola Book Club by Ashton Lee

your meetings as my proof, too. So, thank you very much for the invitation to shutter you sooner rather than later, but I think I’ll keep all my options open. For the time being, that will be my official position.”
    Maura Beth took a deep breath, having weathered the latest go-round. “So you’ll be dropping in on our review of Gone with the Wind next month, I take it?”
    â€œI wouldn’t miss it. I’ve always wanted to observe a literary hen fest.”
    â€œWe’ll do our best to amuse you,” Maura Beth replied, matching his sarcastic smile. “And maybe Becca Broccoli can even get someone to cook up an omelet just for you. Perhaps a little cheese added to make you feel right at home.”
    He leaned over the podium and winked. “Yum, yum!”
    As she watched him walk away from her after their perfunctory farewells, Maura Beth steadied herself by grabbing the podium and whispering the phrase she had used earlier in the evening when they’d changed the name of the club. Over and over it came out of her like a soothing mantra: “Out of the mouths of babes . . . out of the mouths of babes . . . out of the mouths of babes . . .”
    But when Councilman Sparks reached the front door, turned, and gave her a neat little bow, she couldn’t help herself, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her at that great distance: “. . . as well as charming rascals up to God-knows-what.”

5
    I’m Scarlett, You’re Melanie!
    I t was beyond annoying to Maura Beth that Councilman Sparks’s snide prediction that the group would end up rehashing the movie version of Gone with the Wind stuck in her craw over the next couple of weeks. That, and the lingering feeling that she might have been a bit too heavy-handed with the others at the organizational meeting of what was now to be called The Cherry Cola Book Club. It seemed that no one really wanted to read and review Gone with the Wind again except herself, but she had prevailed with authority. Yes, she had promised them that they could explore new angles and ideas regarding the time-honored classic, but she herself had failed to come up with anything viable, despite constant brainstorming. Was anyone else having any better luck?
    In fact, she was about to dial Connie McShay’s number from her office one slack afternoon when Renette Posey appeared in the doorframe, holding the library’s DVD copy of Gone with the Wind and looking decidedly puzzled.
    â€œI’d like to ask you a quick question. Don’t worry—there’s no one waiting at the front desk to check out. Even worse, there’s nobody in the library at all. Hasn’t been all morning,” she explained on the way to Maura Beth’s cluttered desk. “It’s about this movie I’m returning. I got curious when I read your Gone with the Wind flyer.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œWell, I watched it last night for the first time with a few girlfriends of mine, and we did the slumber party thing in pajamas at my apartment. I know, it sounds lame, like something out of high school. We fooled with each other’s hair, talked about boyfriends, popped popcorn, and ate all sorts of junk food. But after the movie was finally over—it went on forever, and thank God for that intermission so we could all take a bathroom break—we sat cross-legged on the floor in a circle and came to the same conclusion.”
    Maura Beth straightened up in her chair. “And what was that?”
    â€œWell, we decided that every one of us acted in real life like either Scarlett or Melanie, for the most part. We even wondered if every woman might fall into one category or the other. Do you think there’s anything to that, or is it just a silly, slumber party idea from a bunch of single girls on a sugar high?”
    Maura Beth couldn’t help but snap her fingers and smile. “Renette, I’d give you a raise if I had the