The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor

by Amy Reade

  “Hi,” he grunted.

  “What on earth are you doing out here in the dark playing in the mud?” Evie asked.

  “I rescued this bush yesterday from a house in Charleston. The owners just dug it up and put it by the curb. I’m going to try to bring it back to life.”

  Lucy put her nose into the bush. “That smells good!”

  “It’s called gardenia,” Heath told her. “It’s kind of sick right now, but I hope it will be healthy again soon.”

  “Me too,” Lucy replied, looking very serious.

  Heath invited us all inside for lemonade and we followed him into the carriage house. It had, indeed, been refurbished and updated into an apartment fit for a single man. It was full of comfortable furniture, all in browns and grays, with buffalo checks and masculine stripes.

  A short time later Heath thanked us for stopping by and invited us to visit anytime. Lucy nodded sleepily, responding that we would.

  I bathed Lucy quickly and got her into bed before she fell asleep on her feet. Then I went down to the dining room to sit and talk with Evie for a while. The drawing room was in a shambles from my work. Ruby came down while we were in there.

  “Ruby, how’s Gran feeling?” Evie asked.

  “She can’t sleep and she’s thirsty,” Ruby replied. “I’m going to take a pitcher of water up to her so she can keep it next to her bed.”

  Evie looked concerned. When Ruby returned upstairs, she shook her head and said, “I’m so worried. She’s old to be battling the flu. She hates being sick because then she can’t get over to her office on the farm and do her work. Being able to get out and stay busy keeps her feeling young.

  “It’s been that way ever since Granddad passed away. She started working over there when he first died, and that’s what kept her from falling apart. But as time passed, she really started to love the work and now a day without work is like a day without sunshine.”

  “When did he die?” I asked.

  “Just before I went off to college, so it’s been about eight years now. Granddad Charles was the best,” she added with a wistful smile. “As much as I miss him, Gran must miss him even more.” We talked for a bit longer, then I went upstairs to bed.

  Over the next several days I made steady progress on the walls in the drawing room. Once the plaster repairs were made and had dried, it was time to paint. The trim around the windows had been removed and taken to a shop in Charleston for resanding and I planned to paint the trim after the walls were complete. It took three days and three coats of the coral paint to finish the walls. During that time, Cora-Camille seemed to be getting worse. She finally agreed to let Graydon take her to the doctor, who diagnosed her with flu and bronchopneumonia. He suggested putting her in the hospital, but she flatly refused. So Cora-Camille stayed in bed and dutifully took her antibiotics. Since she couldn’t come downstairs to see the progress I was making in the drawing room, I took pictures on my cell phone each day and showed them to her in the evenings. She was shocked when she first saw how bright the color was on the wall, but it grew on her quickly and I heard her telling Graydon and Vivian how much she loved it. By the time the paint had dried on the third coat, the trim had been delivered and I was ready to start painting it. I set up two sawhorses in the garage and painted in there. The trim was mostly white, but I added coral to the accent molding to make it stand out. When the trim was back where it belonged around the windows and doorways, I took a picture of it and went upstairs to show Cora-Camille. She looked at it listlessly, then smiled at me. “It’s beautiful,” she said, wincing. “I’ll bet it didn’t even look that nice when the manor was first built.”

  “Mama’s right,” Graydon agreed, coming into the room behind me. “I never would have thought that anything that color could look good on a wall, but you’ve proven me wrong.”

  I smiled at him. “Bright colors were more popular than you’d think in the mid-1800s. Cora-Camille and I have talked about possibly making the ballroom a rich shade of peacock-blue.”

  Graydon looked skeptical. “You sure about that, Mother?”

  Cora-Camille made a noise that sounded a bit like a laugh. “You just leave it to me and Carleigh, Graydon. You’ll see.”

  I left the two of them alone with a concerned glance behind me. Cora-Camille seemed to be getting worse.

  That night at dinner talk centered around what I would be tackling next. “When do you think you’ll be done with the dining room, Carleigh?” Vivian asked.

  “I don’t really know. I need to repair walls before I can prep and paint or wallpaper them, then I have to do the floors. But I promise the manor will look beautiful for the Christmas party.”

  “Speaking of parties, I’d like to have one al fresco someday soon,” Vivian said. She turned to Graydon. “What do you think about hosting a Lowcountry boil in Carleigh’s honor sometime?”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Graydon agreed.

  “What’s a Lowcountry boil?” I asked.

  Evie answered. “You’ll love it. It’s an outdoor party where we set up a bunch of picnic tables. We spread newspaper down the tables and then cook up a huge pot of red potatoes, corn on the cob, onions, sausage, and shrimp and lots of seasonings, then drain it all and dump it right down the center of the tables and everyone helps themselves. It’s lots of fun.”

  “It sounds great!” I answered enthusiastically.

  The rest of the meal was a loud, happy discussion of the guest list and other party plans. Even Ruby, who had been eating dinner each evening with Cora-Camille in her bedroom, seemed excited about it, and she promised to impress with several different types of dessert.

  Immediately after dinner was the normal time for Lucy to place her call to Brad. When we had finished eating, we went up to our room and I gave her my phone. By now she knew which speed-dial button to push to get her dad on the other end of the line. I listened inconspicuously to Lucy’s end of the conversation, as usual.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Yes. My teacher says I’m very smart.” I smiled.

  “It’s hot here. Sometimes Heath gives me lemonade.”

  “He’s tall. He lives in the small house.”

  “Really?” Her eyes grew wide.

  “That would be fun!”

  “I’ll show you my school!”

  And that’s how I knew Brad was planning a visit.

  CHAPTER 7

  I got on the phone and asked for the specifics so I could make suggestions for his hotel arrangements. He wanted to stay in Charleston. I gave him the names of a couple of boutique hotels I had heard of, then we discussed when he would arrive and how long he would stay. I wasn’t about to make his reservations for him, so he said he would research the hotels and make a decision. He was planning to arrive on a Saturday and leave the following Friday. Brad was a day trader so he could work from anywhere. He planned to work each day while Lucy was in school. Lucy clapped her hands and did a little dance, excited that he was coming to visit her.

  After she was tucked into bed, I joined Evie downstairs as usual to chat and I told her about Brad’s impending visit.

  She groaned. “I know Lucy must be looking forward to seeing him, but I wish for your sake that he didn’t have to come here,” she whined. “This place is like a haven for you and Lucy, and it will be all uncomfortable and weird when he’s here.”

  “I don’t think it will be too bad,” I soothed. “He doesn’t have any reason to come to the manor since he’s staying in Charleston. He plans to pick up Lucy from school every day while he’s here. I’ll probably go to his hotel and pick her up every night and bring her back here. We agreed that she’ll sleep here, since this is what she’s accustomed to now and I don’t want to interrupt her routine.”

  Evie seemed relieved. “Good. Let him stay in Charleston.”

  I smiled at her. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  “No.”

  The next morning after I dropped Lucy off at school I
returned to Peppernell Manor and got started on the walls of the dining room. It had previously been wallpapered; it had been common in the antebellum South to use elaborate paper on the walls of certain rooms. In the old pictures of the manor’s dining room the wall covering was blurry, so we couldn’t tell exactly how it had looked. Cora-Camille and I had decided that I should design something myself. I had spent some time in the specialty wallpaper store collaborating with the owner to design an elegant, colorful wallpaper depicting a mural of people walking and playing in a large park. There were flowers and trees, boats, couples and families in their Sunday best, small brick buildings in the background, and several gazebos offering shade to those who strolled through the landscape. Cora-Camille had seen the design on my phone. She was thrilled with the paper and couldn’t wait to see it on the walls. The paper wasn’t quite ready yet, the store owner had informed me, so I had several days to repair and prep the plaster walls. As I had done in the drawing room, I took down the trim, including a chair rail and the window and door surrounds, and took them to the shop in Charleston that had done such a good job with the drawing room trim.

  Phyllis came in one day while I was working. She shook her head.

  “What’s the matter, Phyllis?”

  “Sarah thinks you shouldn’t be doing this. She knows what this house used to look like and she says you’re doing it wrong.”

  “We know the house isn’t going to look exactly the way it used to. What Cora-Camille wants to do is make the manor look similar to how it looked all those years ago. We’re being true to the design ideas of the time, although it can never be an exact replica of how it used to be.”

  “Sarah doesn’t want to see it when it’s done.”

  “I’m sorry she feels that way. I’d like to hear her opinions.”

  Phyllis turned and walked away.

  The next person to come into the room was Heath. “I stopped by for some lunch, but I guess eating in the dining room isn’t going to be an option,” he said with a smile.

  “The dining room is out of service for a while,” I replied. “Hopefully I can get it done within the next week or so. How does eating in the kitchen sound?”

  “I’ll eat anywhere as long as there’s decent food. All I have in the carriage house are graham crackers and lemonade,” he said with a laugh. “Want to come and see what’s out there to eat?” His intense brown eyes locked on mine for just a second; I suddenly felt self-conscious and looked away.

  But I was hungry and it was getting later in the afternoon, so I joined him in the kitchen, where we found chicken salad sandwiches, fruit salad, and some of Ruby’s cherry pistachio bread. We sat at the long kitchen table talking after we finished lunch.

  “Don’t you have work in Charleston today?”

  “I do, but I went in early this morning and I’ll go back later this afternoon. I wanted to go over some of the farm books since Gran hasn’t been able to do it herself. How’s your work coming along?”

  “Really well. Have you seen the drawing room?”

  “No, I came in through the back. Does it look different?”

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  He followed me into the drawing room and looked around at the walls, letting out a low whistle.

  “Wow. This sure looks different,” he marveled.

  “Do you like it?”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. It’s pretty bright.”

  I smiled at him, expecting that reaction. “Cora-Camille loves it.”

  “I know. She tells me every time I visit her,” he answered, grinning. “You sure did beautiful work in here, even if it is a little too bright for me. What are you going to do in the dining room to top this?”

  “Just wait till you see the wallpaper that’s been designed.”

  He chuckled and then left, saying he had to get back to work. I, too, returned to work on the dining room walls until it was time to pick up Lucy. Much to my surprise, I found myself thinking about Heath as I worked.

  That night at dinner Harlan joined us again. I hadn’t seen him in several days. He and Vivian had clearly not given up hope that Cora-Camille could be talked into inviting investors to help fund the restoration project and turn Peppernell Manor into a tourist destination. They talked about it while we ate, since Cora-Camille was finally feeling well enough to join us, though she ate little. The antibiotics had taken a while to start working, but maybe she was finally on the road to recovery.

  “Gran, have you had time to give any more thought to the funding ideas I’ve proposed?”

  “Yes,” Cora-Camille answered, sighing and passing a hand over her eyes. “Harlan, I know you want to help me pay for the restoration, but I’ve told you that I have plenty of money and I don’t need or want the help. I simply do not want this home turned into a for-prof it business.”

  “But Cora-Camille,” put in Vivian, “don’t you agree that it would be a help to get outside funding for such a big project?”

  “I would agree if I didn’t have the money myself,” Cora-Camille told her in a weary voice. “But I do have the money. And this is how I want to spend it. As you all know, I have been thinking seriously about leaving the stewardship of this property to the state when I’m gone, and I think it would do more good if the state could manage it the way it manages other antebellum plantations.”

  Vivian sighed and shot Harlan a frustrated look, then she tried another tack. “Graydon, what do you think of Cora-Camille’s idea?”

  Graydon looked surprised to be asked. He put his fork down and slowly wiped his mouth with his napkin. I felt sorry for him. Vivian was essentially asking him to choose sides, either his wife or his mother. Being a true Southern gentleman, he was caught between a rock and a hard place, but he nonetheless cleared his throat and made his choice.

  “I think Mother should do what she thinks is best. This is, after all, her home. We just live here. If she wants the state to administer the property, that’s her prerogative.”

  Vivian looked at him through narrowed eyes. I felt sorry for Graydon, since I was quite sure he would be on the receiving end of a harangue later that night. She had evidently expected him to take her side, not his mother’s. Harlan looked surprised, too.

  “But don’t you think it would be hard to continue living here if South Carolina were operating the property?” he asked his father.

  “It doesn’t really matter what I think, son, because it is not my choice to make. It’s Mother’s choice.”

  “But—” Harlan began.

  “Not now, Harlan, dear,” advised Vivian.

  After dinner Cora-Camille retired early, saying again that she didn’t feel well. Ruby went with her. Ruby’s devotion to her mother was sweet and a little sad at the same time. She must be very worried when Cora-Camille felt unwell.

  I went upstairs with Lucy to give her a bath and read for a while, and everyone else at the kitchen table disappeared to their various activities and destinations.

  It was later on that night, when the house was quiet, that I heard the argument between Vivian and Graydon. I felt uncomfortable listening to them, but I really couldn’t help it. Vivian’s voice was raised in anger and I was in the room directly behind theirs.

  “How dare you insult me like that in front of the family?” Vivian raged.

  Graydon’s low reply was difficult to hear.

  “I don’t care if she’s your mother. You have to agree that it’s silly of her to be thinking of handing the management of this place to the state. This family would stand to make a sight more money if it were placed in the hands of private investors.”

  Again, I couldn’t hear the reply. I hoped Cora-Camille and Ruby and Evie couldn’t hear Vivian’s tirade.

  She was quieter after that. I could still hear arguing, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Graydon had probably convinced her to keep her voice down.

  The next morning I was downstairs eating breakfast in the kitchen when I heard a scr
eam echoing from upstairs. I asked Phyllis to look after Lucy for a moment while I dashed in the direction of the sound. Evie had poked her head out of her bedroom door and Vivian and Graydon were coming out of their bedroom, too. Obviously none of them had been the source of the scream. It had to have come from Ruby or Cora-Camille.

  Evie ran to Cora-Camille’s room and pounded loudly on the door. Ruby yanked it open and howled, “It’s Mother!”

  Graydon raced past all of us into Cora-Camille’s bedroom. Evie went in right behind him, and Vivian stayed in the doorway with me. Ruby had slumped to the floor next to the door and was sobbing.

  Graydon approached us and said grimly, “Vivian, please call an ambulance. I can’t find Mother’s pulse. She’s cold.” Vivian let out a little cry and turned and fled to the hall phone, where she was quickly connected with a 9-1-1 dispatcher. She returned, saying the ambulance would arrive soon.

  Ruby’s keening was almost unbearable. Evie had knelt down next to Cora-Camille’s bed and was stroking her veined hand, tears streaming down her face. Graydon had sunk into a chair near the bed, his head in his hands. Vivian stood next to him, her hand on his broad back.

  The family needed to be alone. I went back downstairs, whispered to Phyllis what had happened, and hustled Lucy off to school. Of course she wanted to know who was screaming and why, and I told her that Ruby had banged her knee and gotten a bruise. I would have to think of something to tell Lucy later.

  When I returned to Peppernell Manor, the ambulance was there and Cora-Camille’s body, covered entirely by a white sheet, was being taken out on a stretcher. Ruby walked alongside her mother. Graydon followed slowly, his head hung low. Evie, her eyes puffy and red, held her father’s hand and accompanied him. The two of them got into Graydon’s car and drove behind the ambulance as it left the property.