The Ladies of Garrison Gardens Read Online Free PDF Page A

owned the resort, and she had a seat on the board of Garrison Gardens Charitable Trust. Because, when she died, Peggy Garrison had left the whole mess to her dear friend Laurel Selene McCready.

Chapter Four
    OLD MISSUS

    2004
    S HE WANTED TO SCREAM. The
Charles Valley Gazette
was maddeningly uninformative about the death of Peggy Garrison. There was a goopy tribute to her by Hank Barlow, and a brief mention of church services that had already taken place, but that was it. Frustrated, she threw the little newspaper on the floor. As if on cue, Cherry came hurrying in.
    “Did you drop your paper? Let me get it for you.”
    “I don't want it anymore. Take it away.”
    “Yes, ma'am.” Cherry picked up the offending paper and was about to walk out.
    “Wait.” The girl stopped obediently. “Go to Buddy Dogget's and get me any copies he has of the
Atlanta Constitution
.”
    “Why don't I just go to Eckerd's? It's right there in the middle of the shopping center. Dogget's is all the way downtown—”
    “Buddy doesn't always get around to returning the newspapers he doesn't sell. Tell him it's for me, and I want all the back issues of the
Constitution
he has. And he can throw in the last three months of
Southern Living
while he's at it. I'll pay full price.”
    “Yes, Old Missus,” Cherry muttered rebelliously, under her breath.
    “Cherry,” she called out, timing it nicely so the kid was almost out of the room, “I believe I've told you and Essie that I prefer to be called Mrs. Rain.”
    It was sheer cussedness on her part to insist on being called that, and she knew it. The southern way would have been to call herself by her first name with a respectful “Miss” tacked on the front. That was what everyone expected, because she was an old lady and they figured her for Old South. Over the years it had always been a struggle to get the various maids and cooks and gardeners to call her Mrs. Rain.
    In the beginning she'd insisted on using the name as a way of hanging on to a scrap of everything she'd had to give up. It had been an act of defiance, silly, sentimental, and maybe even a little dangerous. But it was her way of shaking her fist at the sky. And there had been a time when she needed to do that.
    But now she was just torturing poor Cherry because the girl was young and didn't have achy joints and diminishing eyesight. And because the death of Peggy Garrison brought back memories of other deaths. Even though she'd never met Peggy, she'd always wished she could have. She would have asked the woman if she liked being Dalton Garrison's wife, if being a Garrison had made her happy. But now Peggy Garrison was gone. And the last link in the chain was gone with her.

Chapter Five
    LAUREL

    2004
    T HE BEDROOM SUITES used by the family were at the back of the house,” Li'l Bit said, when they got to the top of the staircase.
    She and Maggie weren't even breathing hard after their climb to the mezzanine. Laurel was.
    “The guest rooms were on both sides and the front,” Maggie added. “I remember they were quite opulent. Each one had a bathroom and a dressing alcove.”
    On each of the guest bedroom doors there was a small brass plaque documenting the fact that someone of note had spent the night there and giving the date on which the historic sleepover had occurred. Laurel read a couple of names she probably should have recognized from her high school history classes but didn't. Finally she found one she knew.
    “I thought it was just talk about Franklin Roosevelt staying here,” she said.
    “Actually, he visited twice,” said Li'l Bit.
    “The last time was right before the war,” said Maggie. “The rumor was that he was meeting with one of Churchill's people, but that never did come off. Although Dalton and Myrtis did have a picnic for President and Mrs. Roosevelt over at the gardens.”
    Laurel stared at the plaque for a moment. Suddenly, the whole thing seemed wildly funny. “I have a house with little brass