The Three Miss Margarets (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

T
HE NIGHT BEFORE
, when they finally made their decision and left the message for Laurel, they hadn’t discussed where they would sit when they talked to her. But when Li’l Bit walked out to the porch, Maggie and Peggy automatically followed, even though the afternoon sun was starting to fade and it was getting chilly. Maggie pulled a heavy cardigan around her shoulders and sat on her swing. Peggy took her place in the rocker and put her thermos on the porch floor next to it. Li’l Bit had already brought out a straight-back chair from the kitchen. As Maggie and Peggy settled in, she set the kitchen chair so it would be opposite the big wooden one she used.

No one spoke. Peggy and Maggie seemed to be waiting for her to go first, but she wasn’t about to say anything. This meeting was their idea. She went inside and brought out Maggie’s lemonade, her own iced tea, and a glass for Peggy, who was thoroughly capable of sipping straight from her thermos if she didn’t. It had been many years since she’d given up bringing out a Coke for Peggy, but she had one in the fridge, along with a Dr Pepper and some apple juice. She had no idea what Laurel McCready drank.

She had given in to them because she was tired, not just of fighting but of the whole business. And besides, they had nothing to be ashamed of. So why was she ready to jump out of her skin? And why did Peggy look so grim? And why was Maggie sitting up in that ramrod-straight way that said she was holding herself together with spit and Scotch tape?

“We did what was right,” she said, to no one in particular.

“We did what we thought was right,” Maggie amended.

“We did what we had to do,” said Peggy.

Then they all stiffened and didn’t say anything more because a car was coming down the driveway. It stopped by the boxwood hedge at the side of the house and Laurel got out. They watched her come toward them.

L
AUREL GOT OUT OF THE CAR
and saw the three women on the porch. They sat in a row, watching her walk toward them and, for no reason she could put her finger on, scaring the hell out of her. She walked slowly, hoping that something, a rogue tornado twisting out of the sky or a once-in-a-lifetime Georgia earthquake, would keep her from reaching them.

T
HAT GIRL COULDN’T MOVE
any slower if she was trying to make us all crazy, Peggy thought. One more minute, and I’m going to drag her up here by her hair.

She looks frightened, Maggie thought. As frightened as we are.

There’s nothing to be afraid of, Li’l Bit thought. We did the right thing.

L
AUREL REACHED THE STEPS
to the porch. She started up as Miss Li’l Bit pushed herself out of her chair and Dr. Maggie let herself off her swing, and they both came to her. Miss Peggy also rose, but she stood in the background.

“Laurel, thank you for coming,” said Dr. Maggie.

“May I get you something to drink?” asked Miss Li’l Bit.

“No, thank you,” she said. She stood awkwardly in front of them. They didn’t seem to know what to do about her either. Finally Miss Peggy moved in. “Take that chair, Laurel,” she said, “and let’s get started.”

“Peggy—” Dr. Maggie said.

But Miss Peggy cut her off. “We need to get this over with,” she said. “If you stay out here too long you’ll get one of your chest colds. And if we don’t start soon, we’ll lose Li’l Bit to apoplexy.” She turned to Laurel as if the other two weren’t there. “Please sit,” she said. “This is going to be a strain on them, so the sooner we get going the better.”

Laurel sat. So did Miss Li’l Bit and Dr. Maggie. Laurel turned to Miss Peggy, but it was Dr. Maggie who spoke. “We want to tell you how your father died, Laurel,” she said. “We want you to know what really happened.”

Having gotten the ball rolling, Peggy sat back to let Li’l Bit and Maggie take over.

“You have to understand what it was like thirty years ago,” Li’l Bit began, her elegant voice getting flutier and more elegant as it always did when she was under stress.

“Laurel will be fair,” Maggie murmured.

“She has to understand the context.”

“She wants to know about her father, not politics.”

“This is about right and wrong.”

Peggy closed her eyes and let herself smile. The familiar old duet was going again, the mix of high voice and low that had been the only constant source of support in her life. If only this young woman sitting in front of them with the suspicious eyes could understand how dear it was.

“Dr. Maggie, you said you were going to tell me what happened the night my father died.” Laurel’s voice cut through the cool air. Peggy opened her eyes.

“Yes, we did,” said Maggie. “It all began with Vashti’s father, Richard.” She paused for a moment; then she looked to Li’l Bit, giving her the floor. This part of the story was Li’l Bit’s to tell.

L
I’L
B
IT THOUGHT ABOUT DISAGREEING
with Maggie, because it began much further back than Richard. It began with injustice and inhumanity and evil, with concepts of right and wrong a lonely man taught his young daughter on this very porch. But Peggy and Maggie would say she was complicating things if she went into all that, and maybe they were right. So she folded her hands in her lap and began telling the story Maggie’s way.

“In the late sixties the Gardens became so popular the board decided they needed guards at the resort. No one liked the idea much, but the time had come. They put up gates and fences, and they hired men to patrol the grounds and guard the entrances to the various attractions. You have to understand the way the workforce was set up at the Gardens in those days. Menial jobs were done by African Americans; they were the maids and waiters and gardeners. Whites were the housekeepers and head gardeners. The new job of security guard carried more authority than the work usually done by African Americans, but since it was rough outdoor work, African Americans were hired. One of them was Richard Johnson.

“Then they found they needed a security staff working indoors, and they hired whites for those positions. One of them was your father. Grady Garrison got him the job.

“Sometimes the guards would be asked to cover for one another, if they needed more men for a big event or if someone was out sick. Without anyone realizing it was happening, the security staff became integrated. It was the only staff at the resort that was. I’m sure that doesn’t sound like much to you today, but it was monumental back then.

“The security staff grew until they needed someone to oversee it. The job title would be Chief of Security, and it would be an executive-level position. Some of us thought an African American should fill it. There had never been an African American in charge of a department at the Gardens before, and we felt this was a golden opportunity. Again, I wish I could make you understand what a revolutionary idea that was. We suggested it to the board.”

P
EGGY CLOSED HER EYES
again, and let Li’l Bit’s voice chirp over her. A group headed by Li’l Bit and Maggie had indeed gone to the Garrison Gardens board to suggest Richard Johnson for the new position. But in those days the board did what Dalton wanted. Which Li’l Bit and Maggie and Lottie and Nella knew very well. So they wanted Peggy to take it up with Dalton. Garrison Gardens was no little local resort, it was known all over the world, Li’l Bit argued. They couldn’t keep acting like a bunch of backwater bigots forever. Richard had worked as a guard for five years at the Gardens; he was smart, dependable, and well liked.

And he was Vashti’s father, which trumped all the other reasons as far as Peggy was concerned. Peggy would have walked over hot coals for Vashti. They all would have.

Vashti was eleven by then, confident, affectionate, and smart as a whip. Nella wanted the honor of the new job as much for her as for Richard. “I want Vashti to see her daddy go to work in a suit,” she said. In addition to working in a suit, if Richard got the new job he would get a big hike in salary. Nella also wanted that for Vashti.

So even though she never talked to Dalt about business, Peggy went to him about Richard. Dalt was torn.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said. “I’d like to give it to Richard; he’s a good worker. But it’s too late. Grady already promised the job to John Merrick.”

“Dalt says he doesn’t want to undermine Grady’s authority,” Peggy reported back to Li’l Bit and Maggie. “He says Grady’s really trying hard now, and he has to stand by him.”

Normally they would have let Peggy off the hook, particularly Maggie, who seemed to have a pretty clear idea of just how things were with Dalt. But not this time.

“You can’t go on being afraid forever, Peggy,” she said. “You’re not the child he married anymore.”

“You have a right to speak your mind,” Li’l Bit said. And the duet began.

“You have an opportunity to do something important.”

“You have the responsibility.”

“If you stand up to Dalton, he may surprise you.”

“It might be good for him.”

“It will be good for you.”

And then Maggie brought out the heavy artillery. “This is all Grady’s doing. Once again Dalton is going to give in to him. Don’t you give in, Peggy. Not this time.”

She went home and tried again with Dalt.

“This is the perfect job for Richard.”

“Grady promised the job to John.”

Memories of John in the forest with Grady on the worst day of her life crowded her mind.

“Grady had no business making promises before he talked to you. Richard deserves that job. And it’ll look good for the resort. It’s the right thing to do, Dalt.”

“Next time. Richard will get the next job.”

“As what? Chief of the Horticulture Department? Head of Sales? You wouldn’t dare put a black man in charge of any other staff, even if he did have the education for it. This is Richard’s one chance.”

“Sweetheart, don’t do this. You’re making me choose.” He repeated the warning that had always stopped her before.

“Yes,” she said. “This time I’m asking you to choose.”

There was a silence, as both of them tried to absorb what she had just done.

“He’s my son—” Dalt began.

“And I’m your wife.”

She saw him hesitate and felt if she couldn’t win this time it would be the end of her. Just once he had to be on her side. “I’m asking you to do this for me.”

“Peggy—”

“If you don’t—” She was afraid of pushing him too far, but there was no turning back. “—I may know some things you’d rather not hear. About Grady.”

“What could you possibly—” he started to say, but then he stopped. She could see his mind clicking. He was remembering all the hours she had spent with Miss Myrtis, and all his own unanswered questions, and as he stood in front of her, she watched the fear grow. And maybe because of that, or maybe because it really was the right thing to do, or maybe a little of both, he gave in to her.

“S
O
R
ICHARD WAS OFFERED
the job Grady promised your father.” Peggy came back to the present in time to hear Li’l Bit winding up.

Maggie took up the story. “When Grady heard what had happened, he was furious.”

Peggy leaned back. She could remember Grady’s fury. It was not something she could ever forget. And since he was no fool, he knew exactly where to lay the blame.

“Y
OU DID THIS
,” G
RADY SAID
. His face was tight with rage, but she saw something else in it too: confusion. And the beginnings of panic. For the first time in Grady’s life, Dalton wasn’t siding with him, and he’d never thought that could happen. “I know it was you who put Daddy up to this. Because of that little brat you’re always slobbering over.”

“I suggested Richard for the job. That’s all.”

“You did something to make Daddy change his mind.”

“He’s getting older. Maybe he’s tired of you.”

Being Dalton’s son was the only ground Grady had to stand on, and Peggy could see how much that thought scared him. At the time, it pleased her enormously. Which was really stupid. Because there was an old rule that said the only thing more dangerous than an angry animal was a scared one.

Laurel tried to clench her jaw. If ever there was a time when she wanted control over her chattering teeth this was it. She forced her mouth open enough to form words. “So Richard was going to get my father’s job,” she prompted the three women in front of her.

Dr. Maggie responded. “Yes,” she said.

“What happened?” Laurel asked.

“Grady tried to persuade his father to change his mind,” Dr. Maggie said.

Peggy felt herself smile again.
Persuade
was such a Maggie way of putting it.

“Y
OU’RE GIVING A WHITE MAN’s JOB
to a nigger!” Grady shouted at Dalt. “What do you think the men will do when they hear that?”

It was stupid of Grady. Opposition always made Dalton dig in harder, and once he had announced his decision, even though originally he’d fought against it, he expected his wishes to be carried out. “What I think is, I think I’m gonna run my business my way,” he said. “And anyone who doesn’t like it can stop collecting his paycheck. Including you.”

He didn’t mean it. He never would have followed through. But Grady and Dalt were both seeing a side of each other they had never seen before. For Dalton it meant having to face what he’d always known but managed to avoid, that his son was weak and petty and cruel. For Grady, his new hard-nosed father was a total shock. He ranted and raved, but Peggy could see Grady was frantic.

P
EGGY PICKED UP HER GLASS
and poured a little whiskey into it, not too much, because she had to make her store last. It seemed like they’d been talking forever, and they’d barely scratched the surface of what they had to tell this girl. It was going to be a long night.

“Y
OU MUST UNDERSTAND
, none of us saw what happened the night Richard died, Laurel,” Maggie was saying. “What we’re telling you is what we pieced together from what we heard later.