The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor (23 page)

“I know,” he replied miserably.

“Where are you going to stay?”

“I found an apartment in Charleston.”

“Are you going to continue trading?”

“Yes.”

“I don't want you interfering with Lucy. I'm not sure you're even going to be allowed near her if you're charged with trespassing or whatever else stalkers get charged with.”

“Enough, Carleigh. I'm sorry, all right? Is that what you want? An apology? I'm sorry.”

“I don't need an apology from you. All I want is a promise that you're going to leave me alone from now on.”

“Okay. I'll leave you alone. I promise.”

“And Lucy?”

“What about her?”

“Are you going to promise to leave her alone, too?”

“No. She's my daughter and I want to see her whenever I choose.”

“You're forgetting that I have primary custody. That still holds true even if we're not in Illinois anymore.”

“Okay. Then we have to work out an arrangement where I can see her.”

“Let's work on that after your current troubles are over. I don't even want Lucy to know you're in South Carolina until this whole thing is cleared up.”

“All right,” he snapped.

“I've got to go.” I walked to the door and turned the handle, then looked back at Brad. He looked pathetic lying there in the hospital bed, and I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for him. “Brad, I hope we can get through all of this and be friends. For Lucy's sake.”

He just nodded, avoiding my eyes.

W
ith the weather getting cooler I could finally turn my attention to Thanksgiving, which was only a few days away. I was excited to take Heath to Florida with us to meet my parents. Lucy only had two more days of school before we left.

She and I had dinner with Heath again that evening. Addie was sound asleep in the carriage house. As we sat on the patio and enjoyed hamburgers on the grill, one of Heath's specialties, the talk centered on our Thanksgiving plans. Lucy was thrilled that Heath would be joining us at Grandma and Grandpa's house in Florida for the holiday. She didn't yet understand the full meaning of Thanksgiving, but she understood that it was a time for family to be together, and she was getting excited to see her grandparents again. After dinner Heath walked us back to the manor in the gathering darkness.

He hugged Lucy and kissed me good night. Lucy watched, wide-eyed, and asked Heath, “Do you love Mama?”

He laughed. “I sure do!”

Lucy looked at me and said, “Me too!”

What a wonderful way to end the evening.

The next day the steeplejack and the mason finished their jobs in the slave cabins and the manor basement. I was thrilled to now be able to get started on both projects. I decided to start with the basement's plaster walls; I could work on the slave cabins while the plaster cured. I didn't need the assistance of the Charleston plasterer to do the basement walls because it wasn't a public space and there were not many spots that had to be repaired.

The police visited me on Lucy's last day of school before Thanksgiving vacation. They had a few follow-up questions for me. They told me that Brad was out of the hospital and settling into his new apartment. He had been charged with trespassing and stalking, since he had been on the Peppernell property several times spying on me, but was out on bail. They asked me if I was taking precautions to avoid dealing with him. I told them that I had spoken to Brad, that he had promised to leave me alone, and that we had agreed to work out an arrangement for him to spend time with Lucy after his legal troubles were over. The police clearly placed little faith in Brad's promise to leave me alone and advised me to stay away from him. They gave me a list of steps to take in case he continued to bother me. I really didn't think there would be any further trouble, but I took the papers they offered me and assured them I would take the necessary precautions.

That evening we packed for our trip. Lucy reminded Heath to pack a bathing suit so we could use the pool. A friend of Heath's had promised to look after Addie while we were gone.

Finally, Heath and Lucy and I were on our way to Florida. We left early in the morning the day before Thanksgiving and arrived in time to have dinner with my parents. We had phoned them on the road telling them that we would take them out when we arrived, since there would be enough cooking to do on Thanksgiving Day. We met them at one of Lucy's favorite restaurants. She would be occupied coloring while the grown-ups talked.

When Lucy saw my parents, it was a noisy and sweet reunion. My father's health had continued to improve in the month since he became ill, but he was still a little pale and he moved slowly. He and Mom were thrilled to see Lucy and very happy to meet Heath. I stood by, beaming, as I watched all of my favorite people meet and talk. We had a wonderful time at dinner, and Lucy fell into bed when we got back to my parents' house.

Heath and I stayed up for a little while, talking to my parents. He and my dad talked farming and law while my mother and I talked about the progress I was making at Peppernell Manor. Clearly, they already loved Heath.

And Thanksgiving Day was just as nice. Heath and Dad took Lucy out to a playground while Mom and I prepared dinner, and the five of us had a happy, low-key Thanksgiving meal. Over the next two days Mom and I did a little bit of Christmas shopping and the others relaxed. Lucy showed Heath how she was learning to swim, and he indulged her many requests to return to the pool.

We were all sorry to leave on Sunday morning, but Heath and I had to get back to work and Lucy had to return to school. We left with promises to return soon and waved at my parents until they were out of sight.

The ride home was a little subdued because Lucy and I missed my parents. Heath seemed to understand our melancholy and tried to entertain us with stories from his childhood. When we arrived back at Peppernell Manor, everyone else had just arrived home from their various Thanksgiving jaunts.

Evie and Boone had good news—they were engaged.

“I thought you were married to your job!” I accused her, laughing.

“I am, but I'm cheating!” she replied.

Graydon and Vivian had apparently known this was coming—Boone had asked Graydon for Evie's hand weeks ago. They were all smiles as Evie showed us her ring and gushed about the proposal.

“It was in this tiny botanical garden in a park we visited the day after Thanksgiving,” she told us breathlessly. “He got down on his knees and everything! I wanted to surprise you all together, so I waited until I got home to tell everyone!”

Graydon uncorked the champagne and it flowed freely while we all talked at the same time about our trips and Evie's wedding. Lucy got white grape juice and settled down to enjoy her treat before it was time for bed.

When Heath left that night I stood with him out on the front porch for several minutes. Lucy had fallen asleep on the couch in the drawing room and everyone else was still in there.

We watched the stars in silence, his arms wrapped around me. “Boone's given me a great idea,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think we should visit a botanical garden, too. I love gardens!”

I punched his arm, laughing, and he said seriously, “I mean, I've been thinking the same thing.”

I turned to face him. “Are you serious?”

He smiled, his features soft in the light from the porch lamp. “What do you think?”

“I think you'd better give me a proper proposal, that's what.”

“You shall get one, naturally. But not yet. I have to find the perfect ring.”

We stood together for a while longer, caressed by the cool evening breeze. His arms around me felt exactly right. I was over the moon and I know he was, too.

When he returned to the carriage house several minutes later I went indoors with an ear-to-ear smile on my face. Evie took one look at me and gasped.

“Don't tell me that you and Heath . . .”

“Not yet,” I admonished her. “When it happens, you'll be the first to know. I promise. For now, enjoy your own engagement!”

I crawled into bed with a feeling of indescribable happiness. I fell asleep with visions of Heath and Lucy and me riding horses, walking Addie, having dinner together. We were going to be a real family.

T
he next morning after I dropped Lucy off at school, I stopped at the shop where I had ordered the wallpaper for the slave cabins. It had arrived, and the shop owner and I gazed at it with pleasure, reading aloud to each other some of the old newspaper stories that were reprinted on its surface. There were stories about what land had been bought and sold, what had been planted, and even where slave auctions were being held. The articles were riveting. I took the paper with me, excited to get started hanging it in the cabins.

I began hanging the wallpaper as soon as I got back to the manor. I got three sheets hung in the first cabin that day. As I stood back admiring the walls, Phyllis walked by outside. I called to her.

“What do you think?” I asked her as she walked up the steps into the cabin.

She looked around thoughtfully.

“How did you find those newspapers?” she asked.

“I found a shop in Charleston that could print old newspaper articles onto durable sheets of wallpaper. Do you like it?”

“I think so.”

“Do you think Sarah will like it?”

“I don't know. I don't know if she wants to be reminded of her old surroundings. Like I've told you before, there were a lot of unhappy memories in these old places.”

“Will you ask her?”

“Yes.”

Phyllis wandered slowly around the inside of the cabin, touching the walls here and there, pausing to read some of the articles printed on the paper. I wondered what could be going through her mind.

She turned to me, pointing to one of the articles on the wall. “This auction was for slaves that were from a house not far from here,” she said. “The auctions were always held in an open square outdoors so people could see the slaves clearly. The buyers used to inspect the slaves' teeth, just like horses. They used to measure them, with rulers, just like they would a piece of furniture. Often a buyer would buy just the father, like Sarah's father, or just the mother, or just one of their children. Sometimes children and parents were separated for the rest of their lives after those auctions.”

“That's horrible,” I said quietly. I couldn't imagine the sadness that had been felt in the one-room cabin all those years ago. I felt a pang of guilt at having shown her the wallpaper, but it wasn't as if she didn't know those activities took place. And if the cabins were to be historically accurate they would have had such newspaper articles on the walls.

“It sure is.”

She moved toward the door. “Did you paper the walls in the rest of the cabins, too?”

“Not yet, but I'm planning to. I started in this one.”

“You know, there was another reason that slaves often covered their walls with newsprint,” she informed me.

“What was the reason?”

“Many slaves believed that the evil spirits who wandered around in the night would not harm anyone in a particular place until they had read every last word that was printed on the walls. So the slaves papered their walls with newsprint—it kept the spirits from harming them because it was taking them so long to read everything in the cabin.” She chuckled. “They outsmarted the spirits, that's for sure.”

“What a great idea!”

“Well, I've got to get back to work. Starting to set up for Vivian's party, you know. See you later,” she said, waving as she went down the steps.

I stared at the door after she left. I hadn't known about the reading spirits. Phyllis had taught me a lot since my arrival at Peppernell Manor.

I got cleaned up and went to pick up Lucy. I was tempted to drive slowly past the address Brad had given me for his new apartment, but I dared not. I had looked up a map of Charleston online and found the address. I was thankful that it was not near Lucy's school. I didn't want her to see him by chance before I was ready to tell her that he was in town.

I had been so busy the last few days that I hadn't peeked into the ballroom, where Phyllis was preparing for Vivian's open house. That evening after dinner Lucy and I walked into the ballroom and were stunned by the changes that had already been made.

The high ceiling had been strung with strands of tiny white fairy lights that looked just like stars from where we stood. There were dozens of flocked Christmas trees lining the walls of the room, two or three deep, standing on a carpet of fake snow, which was held in place by temporary brick borders that meandered along the sides and through the middle of the room. Some of the trees twinkled with more white lights, but some were left bare. Artificial cardinals sat on random tree branches throughout the large space. Here and there set among the trees were small tables, covered in cloths of white and blue to complement the color of the walls. All through the room small benches were tucked amid the trees, beckoning guests to sit and relax.

The whole effect was enchanting. Lucy couldn't even speak. She took my hand as we wandered around, gazing up at the ceiling and the tall trees. Finally she asked, “What happened?”

I smiled at her. “Phyllis has been fixing up this room for a special party. Isn't it beautiful?”

She nodded, too absorbed in looking around to answer me.

Phyllis appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat. We turned.

“Phyllis! This is absolutely gorgeous!” I told her. “You've outdone yourself. Do you do this every year?”

She smiled graciously. “Thank you. I decorate every year, but wanted a little something different this year that would highlight the ceiling and the new color on the walls. Do you think it works?”

She of course already knew the answer. “Does it work!? It's perfect! Has Vivian seen it yet?”

“Yes. She seems to like it, but she doesn't hand out praise to me very often.”

“Well, she should.”

“Thank you.”

Lucy finally spoke again. “Can we go to the party?”

“Of course you're going to the party!” Phyllis answered.

Lucy was all smiles.

The next day I worked more on the wallpaper in the cabins. I had decided to paper all the cabins before starting on the next task, which would be to whitewash the outside walls. I had originally planned to alternate between the cabins and the basement, but I was so excited to finally begin work on the cabins, my pet project, that I decided to wait and work on the basement once the cabins were complete. Besides, it would be nice to be working indoors when the weather got colder.

As the days went by, I made swift progress with the cabins. I was glad, as the air had become dry and chilly. Though the winter in South Carolina would be nothing like the winter in Chicago, it was still cold working outside and I was anxious to get back indoors. I spent several days looking for the perfect furniture to place in the cabins. I didn't need much—just a rough-hewn table and a chair or two for each cabin. I had bought several two-by-fours and planned to fashion them into simple bed frames and lay two on the floor of each cabin, one on each side of the fireplace, representing the space each family had. I had also bought ticking material and planned to have it stuffed with material to mimic the look of a homemade mattress. The mattresses that the slaves used would have been stuffed with straw or dried grass or rags, but I needed to use a more durable substance. While I shopped for furniture I also kept my eyes open for vintage bedding that I could use. Phyllis had told me that slaves often didn't have much bedding—sometimes an entire family would have to share one blanket. I wanted just one sheet and one thin blanket for each bed.

I remembered seeing a table in the back of Vivian's store that would be perfect for one of the cabins. Perhaps I would be able to find a chair or two there, too. I headed over to her shop and when I pushed open the door I saw Heath talking to Vivian by the counter.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in surprise.

“Just came in to see Mom,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm looking for some simple antique furniture to use in the cabins,” I explained. “Vivian, there was a small square table in the back the last time I was in here. Could I take a look around back there again?”

“Sure. I'd love to get rid of some of those tables back there and make room for new stuff.”

Heath accompanied me to the back and supplied the muscle I needed to move some of the antique items around so that I could get a good look at the table. It was perfect. I also found a simple chair that I decided to pair with it. I told Vivian what I was taking so she could do the proper paperwork, then Heath helped me carry the table and chair out the back door of the shop. Before I left I had one more look around the back room; there were several other tables that might work in the cabins, but I wanted to look in some other shops first.

When I returned to the manor I set up the table and chair in the first slave cabin. They were perfect. Not beautiful, not even attractive. But they fit the space very well. I decided to go out looking for three more tables and several more chairs in the morning. I also needed some basic cooking utensils and tools that I could hang from the sides of the fireplaces.

I found exactly what I was looking for in another antique shop the following day. In fact, I found everything I needed in one store that was near Peppernell Manor. The shop owner even mentioned the possibility that the pieces I bought may actually have come from Peppernell Manor originally. It was an intriguing thought.

I set up the cabins and they looked just right. I had even found an old fiddle that I placed on a shelf in one of the cabins. I hoped it was just like the ones Phyllis's ancestors—Sarah's family—had used. I couldn't wait for Phyllis to see them completed. I went to the house looking for her. She wasn't in the kitchen and she wasn't on the first floor of the house. I went upstairs calling her name, but she wasn't on the second floor, either. I knocked on the door to her apartment; no answer. She wasn't in the basement. I went outdoors to look for her and finally found her coming around the back of the house with an armload of cut dahlias and viburnum.

“Hi, Phyllis. I've been looking everywhere for you! I'm finally done getting the furniture in all the cabins and I thought you'd like to have a look.” I could hardly contain my excitement.

“All right,” she replied calmly. “Just let me put these flowers in the sink and I'll be right with you.”

I followed her into the kitchen and waited impatiently while she placed the flowers in the sink and ran water over their long stems. “Let me just arrange these quickly in a vase,” she said.

When she had finally set the flowers on a pedestal in the front hall, she followed me out the door and over to the slave cabins. I pushed open the creaky door of the first cabin and stood stock-still, staring in horror at the scene before me.