THE BOOK IS A HIT, OR SO JEWEL SAYS!

You know that I, Jewel Tate, don't write here much but I want to toot Mz Barbara's horn for her a little bit. A book is a hard thing to write and I do know she and Mz Regina had a lot of work to do to make it so presentable. We folks here in Harts Corner thought that book was never gonna come out and when it did, I do believe everyone in town bought a copy. We all wanted to know if we were in the book and, most of all, if Mz Barbara had written the truth about us and our town and all the good and bad things that happened here.

Well, although I don't read a whole lot--just have too much else to do than to take the time out--I want to tell you I read every word. And I listened to people here talk about the book, 'cause they read it really quick like. It's that kind of book. You can't put it down. You just have to turn those pages and see what's gonna happen next. Then we all started hearin' from folks all around the country:

"I was right there sitting in a booth in the Blue Moon, listening to the stories and seeing the happenings and feeling like I knew each one of those characters."

"Barbara Mims Deming has brought the true south of the '60's to readers."

"No matter where you grew up, you feel like you're with folks you know in Harts Corner."

"Barbara Mims Deming is the new Fanny Flagg."

The book is a success. Now, don't you think that is the greatest news?

But what really makes a book a success is for more and more people to read it. Now, you know me, I am not a person who speaks up for much of anything, even though I am much more able to stand on my own two feet since Mary Margaret Butler took a chance and hired me to work at the Blue Moon. But I want to get on my soapbox about this "Aunt Lutie's Blue Moon Café" novel.

If you like southern literature, you'll find a good example here. If you've never read it, you need to get educated. If you want romance, it's right here. If you want erotic sex, you ain't gonna get to read about it in this book. If you love small towns and down-home folks and love-your-fellowman tales, you're gonna love this read. If you enjoy mystery and playing detective, dive in to these pages.

Don't wait for the movie...although if Ron Howard or Eastwood or one of those other producers is reading this, you need to take a look. Until it is discovered and hits the big screen, you need to read this book.

Come on by the Blue Moon and we'll let you sit all day in one of our booths to read the book to your hearts content. We might even slip you a piece of Banana Cream Pie to go with it.

FORGET THOSE VACATIONS!

There’s been a lot goin’ on in the Butler/Kinkaid household. And it all came to a head when the family was on vacation and Bethy Rose asked Mary Margaret to help a local woman find her daughter. Let me tell you, even I, Lutie Mae Lucas, tried to tell Bethy Rose that this wasn’t somethin’ any of them should get involved in. I mean to tell you that even Mary Margaret tried to not get involved, telling Bethy Rose she really couldn’t get messed up  with the police in another state on behalf of a story she had no way of knowing was real or not. Then that darlin’ child used her ace in the hole—she’d go to Miguel and get him to help.

Needless to say, Mary Margaret didn’t want Miguel to even know what Bethy Rose was proposing. So she reluctantly went to see this Mz Candy and hear the story. The mother cried and of course, that got to my dear niece. So she agreed to check around. Now, I ask you, how does she check around in a foreign place—yes, I do believe Florida is a foreign country when you compare it to our lovely state of Texas—and not ruffle lots of feathers?  You got it. She asked so many questions and followed so many leads, headed down blind alleys, and stirred up a hornet’s nest. The Chief of Police pounded on their motel door one night and Miguel was questioned about his being out of his jurisdiction and stickin’ his nose in somethin’ he knew nothin’ about.

You do know, that all hell broke loose at that point. As Mary Margaret had predicted, Miguel was so hot under the collar he told everyone to pack up. Bethy Rose cried and carried on, tellin’ him she was the one who caused all the problems. Mary Margaret told Miguel to suck it up; she reminded him that she had a mind and a will of her own—and, besides, he didn’t own her! The Chief later admitted he had been wrong when he got Mz Candy to admit her latest, worthless live-in was absent, too. Maybe he could use some help. And, peace maker that he was, the Chief thought it would be a good idea if Mary Margaret was allowed to help Miguel and him in the search for Mz Candy’s daughter, Faylene.

I’m not gonna tell you the entire story here just in case Mz Barbara wants to write about it but I will tell you that Faylene came home, Mz Candy threw a picnic on the Boardwalk for everyone involved before my family made their way home, and somehow (and I didn’t look nor ask how) Miguel and Mary Margaret arrived back here all lovey-dovy.

Mary Margaret said she is never takin’ another vacation. She’s satisfied to be right here livin’ her own life in Harts Corner. Isn’t that funny comin’ from someone who tried so hard to get out of town for so many years?

AT THE BEACH, WAHOO!

I can’t believe we actually had a vacation. More remarkably, after the first two days of angst or withdrawals from the worries about whether or not Jewel and Harold could run the café without me, I enjoyed myself one hundred percent. Miguel reminded me that I was only a phone call away and if it was an emergency, there was no reason to call me as I couldn’t do a darned thing to help them. At first, that made me panic and then I remembered how skilled at handling crisis my two wonderful employees were, and I relaxed.

Bethy Rose, who has become a more outgoing personality in the last year, bloomed out even more during these two weeks. Before we knew it, she had a name for half the people on vacation and most all the owners and employees of little businesses, not to count the hotel where we stayed, and they treated her like she was the shiniest penny in their pocket—which she was.

Calling the office seemed to be off limits to Miguel as well. Of course, he probably did but made sure we gals weren’t aware of it. He’s always pretty calm about things (except when I get involved in HIS business, as he calls weird or illegal events in Harts Corner) but I saw a difference these two weeks—he was really relaxed and funny and even more attentive to me than when at home. The routine of daily life was put aside and we learned to enjoy just being together.

Bethy Rose, as I said, knew everyone and she wanted to involve me in a mystery of a local disappearance. Those of you who have read of my adventures understand that most of what I stick my nose into turns out to be misadventure. I was stretched out on a lounge chair near the pool reading a book (how long had it been since I had found time to do that?) when my darling foster child hurdled herself onto the end of the chair.

“MM, you’ve got to come and listen to Mz Candy’s story.”

“Who’s Mz Candy?”

“I told you about her, don’t you remember? She cleans our room.”

Her name sounded more like she should be in a show along the boardwalk. “Oh. And what kind of story will she tell me?”

“Her daughter disappeared about two months ago. The police here say she’s just a runaway but Mz Candy swears her daughter never missed school, always came in before her curfew, and would never run away. Can you talk to her?”

“Honey, I don’t see how I can help. I don’t know anyone here like at home and it would be very difficult to find out anything. This is a police matter.”

“That doesn’t stop you from helping Miguel out at home.” Ouch.

Miguel would have a fit—more than a temper tantrum, for sure. More than that—he’d probably cancel the rest of our vacation. I hated to disappoint this child who cared for everyone’s problems more than a little person should but I have managed to stay in Miguel’s good graces involving his line of work for about a year now. He preferred it that way and I love him enough to keep him happy. But it sure was hard to let Bethy Rose down.

“Take your story to Miguel. See if he can’t help, honey. I don’t want to do anything that he can do better. Okay?”

For a moment I noted the disgusted look on her face, like I had somehow managed to abandon the helpless. Then she jumped up, gave me a big grin, and turned to search for Miguel. But not before spearing me with her haughty tone.

“I’ll see if he’s got more guts than you, MM.” 

Drats and double drats!