The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

“I pull it back up,” Verna said. “It’s canvas. But it’s such a pretty day—I thought we might want to enjoy the sunshine.” She shifted into first gear and pulled away from the curb. “Now, tell me what you know about Miss Tallulah. Does she have enough money to do this kind of thing—assuming that she even wants to?”


For it was Miss Tallulah whom Verna had thought of as a possible savior for the bank. She didn’t often appear in Darling, but she was a longtime Cypress County resident who might feel that she had a stake in the town’s continued survival. And she was thought to have plenty of money, although appearances could be deceiving, especially these days. Aunt Hetty would know, though. She and Miss Tallulah had been friends since they were girls.

“I don’t know how much money we’re talking about,” Aunt Hetty said, “so I don’t know how much is enough. But she’s a very wealthy woman, there’s no doubt about that. And the LaBelles used to play an active role in the town’s affairs. Tallulah’s mother, Sophie, for instance, always used to give parties at the plantation and invite the townspeople to come out and see the gardens, which were truly spectacular. She was a patron of the Academy, too. She donated quite a bit of money to build the girls’ dormitory out there. And Tallulah’s father, when he was alive, gave money to the Monroeville Hospital. They were public-spirited citizens.”

“Is that right?” Verna asked with interest. “I had no idea. You never hear anything about the LaBelles these days.”

“That’s because Tallulah keeps to herself out there. She still travels a great deal, and when she’s home, she doesn’t have much truck with the town.”

“Is there a special reason?” Verna asked, slowing to negotiate a sharp bend in the road.

“Isn’t there always?” Aunt Hetty said, and then fell silent. “But you’d have to ask her what it is, Verna.” Her wrinkled old face was serious and her eyes, usually so lively, were dark. “It’s not something I’d want to talk about.”

That was a curious answer, Verna thought, and very unlike Aunt Hetty. It sounded as if there might be a mystery here. But if Aunt Hetty didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t, and that was that.

There was another silence, then Aunt Hetty said, “Tallulah is shrewd, you know, especially when it comes to money. She’ll want to know if the Savings and Trust is a good investment.” She pursed her lips. “Is it?”

“I can’t answer that question,” Verna replied cautiously, thinking that this was probably a wild-goose chase. If Tallulah LaBelle had some sort of secret grudge against the town of Darling, their visit was doomed before it began. She sighed. “Let’s just see if she will agree to talk with Mr. Duffy. Since neither of us have any idea how much money is required, we can’t tell her anything about that part of it.”

“Maybe not—but we can tell her what’s likely to happen to Darling if this problem can’t be solved,” Aunt Hetty said in a practical tone. “I always like to look on the bright side of things, but if the bank closes, it’ll be a disaster.”

Verna had been to the fabled LaBelle plantation only once, when she was just five or six years old. Mrs. Sophie LaBelle, Miss Tallulah’s widowed mother, had invited people from Darling to a lavish garden party, which had seemed to Verna to be a magical occasion. Fairy lights had been strung through the trees, a string quartet played beautiful music in the enchanted night, and there was dancing and tables laden with fine food and wines. It was an event that lingered long in the memories of Darling folk, and people still talked about it.