The Ladies of Garrison Gardens Read Online Free PDF Page B

scream.
Of the goddam Garrisons?
    Laurel had grown up among folks in Charles Valley who
didn't
revere its leading family. “Sons of bitches who wouldn't let any other industry in here, refused to pay a living wage, and then called themselves Christians” was the way she'd always heard it. The exception was Miss Myrtis. Even the most ardent critics of the Garrisons said Miss Myrtis was a good person. Laurel thought she sounded as bad as her menfolk. The woman stood by while her husband ripped off his workers; then she gave wads of money to the needy—most of whom wouldn't have been needy if it hadn't been for Mr. Dalt. Miss Myrtis had also been a rotten mother, whose son had caused misery for everyone who knew him, including Peggy. Especially Peggy.
    Peggy was worth a dozen of Miss Myrtis. A million!
Laurel wanted to shout. But she didn't. Because Li'l Bit and Maggie were hurting enough. And when your friends are old and fragile, you don't get to shoot your mouth off. Once, when Peggy was talking about her friendship with Li'l Bit and Maggie, she told Laurel there had been a time when she stopped being the youngster and became responsible for them. “It just seemed to sneak up on me,” she'd said. “I always wondered when it happened.”
    Well, I sure as hell know when it happened for me
, Laurel thought.
When you died
,
Peggy
. And she could almost hate Peggy for it.
    They had walked to the back of the mezzanine where the family bedroom suites were, and now they were facing the door to the master bedroom. Li'l Bit took a deep breath, opened it, started into the room, and then stopped. She and Maggie stood in the doorway and stared at the ornately carved canopy bed in the middle of the room.
    “Let me guess,” Laurel said. “The frigging bed was in Miss Myrtis's family for a million years, and they carried it here from Savannah on their backs. . . .” She trailed off because Li'l Bit and Maggie were looking up at the canopy. Laurel looked up too and saw that the fancy
B
she'd come to hate was carved over and over on the frame.
    Every night of her married life, the last thing Peggy had seen before she went to sleep was a reminder of Myrtis Garrison. She'd been reminded of Myrtis when she woke up in the morning and when she made love to her husband.
    “Shit,” Laurel said.
    “Would you like to go in?” Li'l Bit asked. But Laurel could tell that neither she nor Maggie wanted to know what was in there. After Dalton had died, Peggy had moved out of this room and closed it up. Whatever sad, mean little details it would reveal about Peggy's life and marriage, she hadn't meant to share them with anyone but Laurel. Going into the room with Maggie and Li'l Bit would expose her when she wasn't around to put a pretty spin on what they would see. For Peggy, who would rather chew glass than go out of the house without her makeup on, it would be a violation. Laurel closed the door. Maggie and Li'l Bit stood in the hallway looking like lost children. She had to make it better for them.
    “I'll take us to lunch,” she said desperately. “The Magnolia Room at the resort. We'll order champagne and have a party for Peggy. She'd love that.”
    But Li'l Bit was sagging with weariness, and Maggie was looking every one of her eighty-nine years. Laurel knew they'd rather go back to the big porch that wrapped around Li'l Bit's house.
    “I could fix us some sandwiches,” Li'l Bit said, and Maggie nodded eagerly. Laurel could picture the scene. Maggie would pull herself up on the old porch swing and Li'l Bit would settle into the big chair that used to be her father's and they'd eat the soggy sandwiches Li'l Bit had made. And they'd be okay with seeing the empty wicker rocker where Peggy used to sit. But Laurel knew she couldn't stand it. Not today.
    She delivered them to Li'l Bit's house and took off.
    There had been a time when Laurel would have headed for the Sportsman's Grill after a rotten morning. It was a local hangout, not one