by Amy Reade
Evie laughed. “That’s nothing but a legend,” she informed me.
We walked into the entry hall of the manor through the riverside entrance. I was struck again by the beauty of my surroundings and couldn’t wait to get started on the restoration work. Evie said she would drive me into Charleston to show me where I would likely be getting some of the materials I would need to start the job. Cora-Camille would be only too happy to watch Lucy.
“That would be great. I’d also like to visit a nursery school in Charleston to get Lucy enrolled before the school year starts,” I told Evie. “I did some research online before we left Chicago and I found one that sounds perfect for her.”
“Fine. I’ll be ready to leave in about thirty minutes.”
A short time later as Evie and I drove down the main road, across the river, and into Charleston traffic, we discussed what should be done first in the manor house.
“I know it’s still August,” Evie mused, “but I know Gran would like the common rooms done before Christmas. Maybe you should start work on those first.”
“I can start anywhere she wants,” I replied. “If she wants certain rooms done by Christmas, I’m going to have to get to work as soon as possible. Does the family entertain a lot during the holidays?”
“All the time,” Evie answered, rolling her eyes.
“Maybe I should start in the entry hall, then move to the drawing room and dining room. They seem to be the rooms downstairs that get the most use. The entry hall is what people see first when they come into the house and the other rooms are the most likely to be used during the holidays, I would guess.”
“Yes, plus the ballroom. Mother and Daddy host a big open house every December in the ballroom. It gets decorated all fancy and everybody loves it.”
“That sounds amazing!”
“I’m sure you and Lucy will be on the guest list this year,” Evie replied with a wink. “Mother, especially, will be anxious to show off your work to everyone who comes to the house.”
“Will I be expected to set up the decorations?” I asked dubiously.
“No, Phyllis does all that every year. She’s a wonder when it comes to fancy decorating.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Phyllis.
It had taken under twenty minutes to get from Peppernell Manor to the heart of Charleston. Not too bad, I thought. I began to concentrate on the beautiful, centuries-old architecture we were passing. The history contained within all those walls fascinated me and I could feel the aura of Charleston’s rich past all around.
We stopped first at a textile store where Evie introduced me to the owner, a specialist in locating and reproducing antique wall, window, and floor coverings. Evie explained that I would be using the owner’s services in the months to come, and I had a feeling that I would be spending lots of time in this particular store. We went ’round to other shops, too, where similar conversations took place. It was nice to be able to meet local vendors and know that they were as interested as I in accurate historical restorations.
After we had stopped at several shops, I asked Evie to drive me to the nursery school I had found online. I hadn’t made an appointment to visit, but the staff was very gracious. After I had met several of the teachers and looked around the premises, I was convinced that Lucy would love it there. I enrolled her on the spot in a program that allowed her to stay until midafternoon so I could work at the manor. I was excited to get home to tell her about it.
When we arrived back at Peppernell Manor, it was close to lunchtime and Lucy had met two newcomers. I recognized them immediately as Evie’s parents, Graydon and Vivian Peppernell, and I embraced both of them enthusiastically.
Graydon, a tall, stocky man with a mane of silver hair, held me away from him, his hands on my shoulders. “Carleigh,” he began in his thick Southern drawl, “we are thrilled to have you here with us. And your little girl is just a peach.” He was beaming. Apparently Lucy had charmed him.
Vivian, a petite woman with frosted blond hair and a tailored look about her, smiled at me. “I guess Evie has had you into Charleston already to visit some of the restoration shops around town. What did you think?”
“I thought they were very professional and their work is beautiful. They’ll be great to work with,” I replied. “I hope when I’m done that you’re thrilled with your home.”
She smiled again. “I’m sure we will be. Of course, if you need my help, you’re always welcome to whatever I have in my gallery.” I thanked her warmly. Evie had told me that Vivian ran a renowned antique gallery in Charleston. Though we hadn’t visited her store earlier, I felt sure I would be spending quite a bit of time in there, too. I remembered from my previous visit that Vivian was an art lover. She had worked at an art gallery at that time, so she must have decided that antiques were more to her liking.
We all ate lunch together in the dining room, making it a more formal affair than breakfast had been. Lucy did remarkably well, only having to be reminded twice to use utensils. After lunch I took her upstairs for her nap; then I descended by myself into the basement to have a look at what projects might lie in wait for me down there.
The cavernous basement was fascinating. I knew from my research about antebellum plantations that basements had several uses. The first thing I noticed when I walked down the old wooden staircase to the basement, after the expansive brick floor in an intricate herringbone pattern, was the huge fireplace in the center of the space. This, I had learned, would have been used to heat the basement in winter and to keep food warm before serving. In addition, food was actually cooked in the cellar before the kitchen dependency had been built. There were a variety of small rooms down there, each with its own historical use. One room had a thick wooden door with a large rusted lock that appeared to be unused now. I suspected, based on research I had done, that room had once been used to house spices, wine, and other valuables. There was another room containing rows of wooden shelves that I assumed had been used as a storeroom for roots, vegetables, and other foods requiring cool storage. As I wandered around, my footsteps echoing on the bricks, I also found an old plantation office, other storage spaces, and work rooms that had probably been used by house slaves. There were more modern items in those rooms now, but I could imagine what it had looked like in the mid-nineteenth century.
I wrote as I walked, noting the spots in the basement that would probably need repair; there were many such areas that were cracked and peeling. When I was done in the basement, I went back up to my room to wake Lucy from her nap. Refreshed, she was now ready to hear my news about her new school. As I suspected, she greeted the announcement with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She asked me lots of questions about where I would be during the school day and whether she would eat lunch there. She knew her little friends from Chicago were starting school soon and that she would be able to share stories with them when she saw them again. She also seemed a little frightened of going to school in a new place. Understandable, but maybe if I started while she was young I could instill in her a lifelong acceptance of change and a penchant for new experiences. No husband of hers was ever going to accuse her of being boring and staid when she grew up.
I explained to her that I would drop her off every morning and go back to the manor to do my work, then I would pick her up later in the day so we could spend time together at Peppernell Manor. She happily agreed and we went downstairs in search of other playmates.
We found Ruby in the kitchen. She was baking several different kinds of quick bread; she had banana, cherry, and blueberry breads all in the works. She asked Lucy if she’d like to help deliver the breads to the farm workers, and of course Lucy was thrilled to join her. The two of them wrapped the breads while we chatted and then Ruby donned a large straw hat. Together she and Lucy walked out the front of the house with the warm loaves in a wicker basket, talking amiably. Evie had informed me that Ruby baked so much that the people who lived in Peppernell Manor couldn’t possibly eat it all
, so Ruby often gave the goodies away to the people who worked for them on the farm.
I spent the afternoon assessing the rooms upstairs to develop a restoration plan. Across the front of the manor was the huge master bedroom. Its antebellum use had been as a public space for parties, dancing, and musical concerts, but now it functioned as Graydon and Vivian’s bedroom, complete with an en suite bathroom, sitting room, and Graydon’s spacious office. An internationally known writer of spy thrillers whose books had been made into several popular movies, Graydon needed a large private space in which to work.
Behind the master suite on the right side of the house were two rooms: Ruby’s bedroom and a guest room that was currently in use as Evie’s bedroom. They were large and sunny but, like the master suite and most of the rooms downstairs, they needed work on the walls, floor, and ceiling. The room I shared with Lucy, behind Graydon and Vivian’s room on the left side of the house, was in similar shape. Cora-Camille’s room stretched across the back of the house facing the river. It, too, needed some attention.
When Lucy and I sat down for dinner that evening we were joined by Evie, her parents, Ruby, Cora-Camille, and a very tall, good-looking man with brown eyes just like Evie’s and a Roman nose like Graydon’s. Evie placed her hand on his arm and introduced him with a broad smile as her brother Harlan. Harlan was the epitome of Southern gentility as he stood, took my hand and bowed over it, then did the same with Lucy, who stared at him with wide eyes.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Carleigh. I’ve heard a lot about your work,” Harlan began. “What are your plans for completing the restoration?”
“If it’s all right with Cora-Camille, I think I’ll get started in the entry hall because that space is the first one people see when they come indoors. Evie mentioned that it would be nice to have the public spaces done by Christmas, so after the hall is complete I’ll move on to the drawing room, then the dining room, then finally the ballroom and small sitting room. After the holidays I can start the rooms upstairs and the basement.”
Harlan leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I think that’s a good plan.” Then looking around the table at the others gathered there he said, “I’ve been talking to some friends of mine in Charleston about this restoration.”
A palpable silence descended upon the room as everyone stopped eating, Vivian with her fork halfway to her mouth. What just happened? I wondered.
“Yes?” asked Cora-Camille.
“You know, Gran, it’s going to cost a fortune. I’m pretty sure I can get enough investors together to pay for all the work that needs to be done, and then they could manage the property for you going forward. It would make your life much easier.”
Vivian spoke first. “Harlan, I think that’s just wonderful! That would be a huge help!”
Then Cora-Camille spoke.
“I don’t know, Harlan dear. I have sufficient funds to pay for the restoration without getting any additional money from outsiders. And my life really isn’t that difficult.”
“I know you have plenty of money, Gran, but I’d like to see you be able to keep it and do what you want with it. With investor involvement, you’d be able to do just that.”
“But this restoration is what I want to do with my money. I want to see this manor restored to its original grandeur before I die.”
“Gran, don’t talk like that,” scolded Evie.
Cora-Camille patted her hand. “I’m not going to live forever, honey.”
“I’m not telling you what to do, Gran. I just think it’s a good idea if you give it some thought,” Harlan said gently.
“I will, Harlan. I’ll give it some thought,” Cora-Camille promised.
“Good. Now, where’s Phyllis? I’d love some coffee,” Harlan said.
Phyllis came in shortly bearing a tray loaded with cups and saucers. She left and then returned a moment later with cream and sugar. A coffee urn stood waiting on the sideboard.
“Phyllis, there is a large stain on my napkin, and I noticed that there are spots on several other napkins, too. Can you please make sure that these napkins are cleaned properly the next time?” Vivian asked acidly.
Phyllis looked at her with big dark eyes and replied quietly, “Yes, Mrs. Peppernell.” Everyone else remained silent, though Graydon shot his wife an angry look, shaking his head.
Talk for the remainder of the meal was of the weather and the farm. Everyone seemed to agree that the heat and humidity wouldn’t break until sometime in September.
Later that evening after Lucy had spoken to Brad and fallen asleep and the downstairs was empty of other people, Evie and I each sat with a glass of wine in the drawing room. I asked Evie about Harlan’s investor proposal.
Evie sighed. “Harlan wants to bring in a group of investors who will pay for the restoration. But they aren’t doing it just to be nice, of course. They want something in return. And Harlan’s idea is to open up Peppernell Manor to paying visitors. Tourists.” She spoke the word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
“How would that work? Could strangers just come in and roam around? Where would your family live?”
“He wants the downstairs to be public. The family would continue living here and the upstairs would still be private, of course, but our access to the downstairs rooms would be limited. We certainly wouldn’t want to be down there enjoying a glass of sweet tea with people walking through the drawing room.”
“And Cora-Camille is against the idea?”
“I think she wants the manor to remain in the family. She doesn’t want a bunch of strangers to have a financial interest in her home.”
“Why is Harlan trying to persuade her to go with the investors?”
“Because this manor will probably belong to him and Heath and me someday. If it’s a big tourist destination, it will be worth even more money than it’s worth now.”
“What do you think?”
Evie shrugged. “It’s Gran’s house. She should do with it what she wants. The whole investor idea has some positives, though. For one thing, if the manor was managed by an investment consortium, no one would ever have to worry about spending the money for its upkeep. Second, lots of people would be able to go through the manor and see what life used to be like for the people who lived on plantations back in the nineteenth century.”
“What do the others think?”
“Heath thinks that Gran should go with her heart. And Daddy doesn’t really weigh in because it’s his mother’s house. Mother loves Harlan’s idea, though. She thinks Peppernell Manor would make a great tourist destination.”
We sat in silence for a little while, enjoying the last of our wine, before bidding each other good night.
The next morning I went to a home store to get some of the supplies I would need to start the ceiling restoration in the entry hall. I was going to work from the top down. I had contacted a Charleston plasterer before leaving Chicago, so he met me at the manor during the afternoon to begin supervising the repairs. We didn’t get too far the first day, but we got the materials organized and formulated a plan to tackle the cracks and bows in the ceiling. The ceiling border contained beautiful decorative detailing of leaves and vines, and it would take a good deal of time to just repair the small cracks in the details.
Thankfully, Cora-Camille and Ruby entertained Lucy while I worked. It would only be a few more days until she started nursery school, but it was a big help to have built-in babysitters at the manor whom I could trust with my daughter.
Dinner that evening was noisy, almost festive. Besides the people who had been there the previous evening, we were joined by Heath, Harlan’s twin brother. Like Harlan, Heath was very tall, well over six feet. He was handsome in a scholarly way, with lanky limbs and tortoiseshell glasses. He and Harlan clearly enjoyed each other’s company and liked to tease one another. Watching them and Evie, it was evident that they loved to dote on her and that she loved the attention.
After I put Lucy to bed Evie, t
he twins, and I retired to the drawing room to talk. Heath sat down and said to me, “I think I remember you from the first time you visited here. You and Evie were always going somewhere, never content to just stay home. And always talking about your boyfriends!” I blushed. It didn’t sound like he remembered me fondly and I was embarrassed. Luckily he changed the subject; he seemed very interested in the specifics of the work I was doing on the entry hall ceiling. I explained my plans, then asked him about his work.
“I practice law in Charleston,” he said with a sigh, “but my heart belongs here on the farm. If I could sell my practice and farm full-time, I’d be a happy man.”
Evie smiled. “Why don’t you just do it?”
“Because I wouldn’t make any money. It’s hard to make ends meet as a farmer. And I’d hate to leave my clients high and dry.”
“Harlan, what do you do?” I asked.
“I’m a real estate developer. My office is also in Charleston. Right next door to Heath’s, in fact. We work together on real estate projects occasionally.”
“What have you seen of Charleston this trip, Carleigh?” asked Heath.
“I haven’t really seen too much of it yet,” I admitted. “I’ve seen the insides of some shops that specialize in restorations and textiles and things like that, but I haven’t done any sightseeing. I’ll take Lucy one of these days and spend some time looking around the city. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m sure Evie can give you some good sightseeing ideas. She knows every nook and cranny of Charleston.”
“Maybe I’ll even go with you,” Evie suggested.
“Great!”
Talk then turned to Lucy, her age, her interests, and how she was adjusting to life on a plantation in South Carolina. No one asked about Brad, and for that I was thankful. We were all having such a nice evening together; I would have hated to spoil it by having to discuss the divorce.
Eventually the small party broke up and Evie and I went upstairs, Heath went back to his carriage house, and Harlan left for his home in Charleston.