The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

Earlynne Biddle, a rose fancier. Married to Henry Biddle, the manager at the Coca-Cola bottling plant.

Bessie Bloodworth, proprietor of Magnolia Manor, a boardinghouse for genteel elderly ladies next door to the Dahlias’ clubhouse. Grows vegetables and herbs in the Manor’s backyard.

Fannie Champaign, proprietor of Champaign’s Darling Chapeaux and a bit of a mystery to everyone. Recently returned from Atlanta, after an unfortunate break with Charlie Dickens, the editor of the Darling Dispatch.

Mrs. George E. Pickett (Voleen) Johnson, president of the Darling Ladies Guild and notable town matron, specializes in pure white flowers. Married to the now former president of the Darling Savings and Trust Bank.

Mildred Kilgore, owner and manager, Kilgore Motors. Married to Roger Kilgore. They have a big house near the ninth green of the Cypress Country Club, where Mildred grows camellias.

Aunt Hetty Little, gladiola lover, town matriarch, and senior member of the club. A “regular Miss Marple” who knows all the Darling secrets.

Lucy Murphy, grows vegetables and fruit on a small market farm on the Jericho Road. Married to Ralph Murphy, who works on the railroad.

Raylene Riggs, Myra May Mosswell’s mother and the newest Dahlia. Cooks at the Darling Diner and lives at the Marigold Motor Court with Pauline DuBerry.

Miss Dorothy Rogers, Darling’s librarian. Knows the Latin name of every plant and insists that everyone else does, too. Resident of Magnolia Manor, where she plants her small flower-and-vegetable garden in very straight rows.

Beulah Trivette, owns Beulah’s Beauty Bower, where all the Dahlias go to get beautiful. Artistically talented, Beulah loves cabbage roses and other exuberant flowers.

Alice Ann Walker, grows iris and daylilies, which don’t take a lot of time or attention—important for Alice Ann, who works full-time as a cashier at the Darling Savings and Trust Bank. Her disabled husband, Arnold, tends the family vegetable garden.





ONE


Out of Money!

Saturday, April 8, 1933



Earlynne Biddle sighed heavily. “Well, I for one don’t know how any of us are going to manage, now that the bank is closed.” She paused. “Liz, reach me that knife right there beside you. It’s sharper than mine.”

“As long as you’re not going to use it to do something desperate,” Elizabeth Lacy said with a little laugh, handing the knife across the table.

“Something desperate, like slit my wrists?” Earlynne turned down her mouth and went back to chopping rhubarb. “That wouldn’t solve anything, now, would it?”

“No, of course not,” Lizzy replied hurriedly. “I didn’t mean—”

“We know you didn’t, Liz,” Aunt Hetty Little said in a soothing tone. “You were just making a little joke.”

“A very little joke,” Verna Tidwell remarked with a sardonic laugh.

Earlynne sniffed. “It’s no laughing matter. Who knows how long the bank will be closed. And until it opens, what are we going to do for money?”

Of course it wasn’t a laughing matter, Lizzy thought, looking at the sober faces of her four friends. They had gathered in the Dahlias’ clubhouse kitchen for a Saturday morning rhubarb canning party. It was a pretty day and all the doors and windows were open to the sweet April breeze—which was a good thing, because canning could be hot work. Mildred Kilgore had just come back from Tennessee, where somebody had given her two big washtubs heaped full of fresh rhubarb stalks.

“All I wanted was enough for one pie,” she’d told Aunt Hetty, “and I ended up with enough to feed an army! I’d can it, but I just don’t have time.” Roger Kilgore, her husband, had proven himself to be a less-than-trustworthy manager, so Mildred was now running Kilgore Motors and had her hands full, trying to keep the business afloat.