Shelly sniffled into the tissue. “Ezzra swore he wants a child, but every time we take a break from each other so he can be sure our future together is what he wants, he’s off chasing other women. I don’t think he’ll ever change.” Anger flashed in her eyes. “So in my advanced geriatric frame of mind, I’ve decided I’m over him.”
This time, Ivy didn’t offer any advice. Though she’d always seen Ezzra as self-absorbed, she’d thought he was what Shelly wanted. Now Ivy realized she should have spoken up more on Shelly’s behalf. Told her the truth as she saw it.
Running her hand over Shelly’s wavy hair, Ivy grew introspective. That goes for me, too. If she hadn’t relinquished her decision-making authority over their financial life to Jeremy, she wouldn’t be in this position now. He was a software engineer with an MBA; he was good with money—she’d had plenty of excuses, especially when the girls were young and she fell into bed exhausted every evening. Ivy blew out a breath. Spoiled as her daughter Sunny was, she’d had a point.
Shelly wiped her eyes. “You never liked Ezzra, did you?”
“I didn’t think he was right for you. But I supported your decision to be with him.”
“Next time, be honest with me.”
“I promise.” Ivy clasped Shelly’s hand. “As much as we like to support each other’s decisions, we also need to be honest with each other, especially when we see unfair or damaging behavior. Sometimes we miss obvious signs.” Maybe she had, too.
“It’s hard to see the truth with my heart-shaped love blinders on.” Shelly wiped her eyes.
How well Ivy understood that. There were only two men in her life that she’d ever fallen for—Bennett and Jeremy.
“It’s okay,” Ivy said. “The difference between us is that you just made an important decision to change your life. Mine was thrust on me.”
“But look at you now.” Shelly chuckled. “Making crazy decisions all by yourself. So, think you can spare a room here? I’m not quite as deft with a paintbrush as you are, but you should see me wield garden shears. I’m fierce against unruly nature.”
“I’d like to see that.” Ivy laughed and mussed Shelly’s hair, which had almost escaped its messy bun. “You’re on.”
Shelly glanced back at the sprawling old home. “So what’s your plan?”
“Besides teaching painting, I’d like to create serious work to sell. I’ve had a creative block—hardly a surprise—but I have some completed works I can ship out from storage. There are plenty of art fairs along the coast where I can show my work. Plus, I’ve fed and cleaned up after a family for years. How hard could it be to do that for strangers?”
When Shelly arched a questioning eyebrow at her, Ivy grinned. “We can rent out rooms. Run it as an inn. That’s where the money for the taxes will come from.” She pursed her lips. “I am not losing this house.”
Ivy stood up and stretched, feeling fresh energy flowing through her. Being decisive felt good. She didn’t need to ask anyone for permission. “Imagine the parties that were held here. It’s a spectacular venue for events.”
“Put me down for the flowers and decorations.”
“I was counting on it. I might even put to use the skills I learned in all those Sur La Table cooking classes Jeremy used to sign me up for.”
“Please, not the escargot again.” Shelly waved her hand in front of her mouth. “I was breathing fire for a week.”
“I’ve got reading glasses now. It won’t happen again.” She still didn’t like them, but she wore them to read. “I calculated the number of rooms by what I think we can get per night. The summer season here is crazy busy. I’m sure we can make enough to cover the taxes and utilities—with some profit left over. “Are you in?”
“Why not?” Shelly brightened and stuffed the tissue into her pocket. “Surely we can handle a few vacationers. Really, how hard could it be?”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s do this.” Ivy gripped Shelly’s hands. Soon they were whirling around in the front yard like they used to do as kids, screaming and laughing until they fell onto the sandy lawn. Living in the moment and tossing off the baggage they’d each been carrying for so long felt exhilarating.
Shelly landed on her back and flung her arms out. “You’re crazy, you know that? Mom would be so proud.”
“Mom! Oh, I forgot to call her.” Ivy scrambled up. “We’ve got to get back.”
“And get our luggage from Bennett.”
Ivy made a face. “That’s definitely your department.” She held out a hand to Shelly and pulled her up. “Looks like we’re walking.”
Shelly slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. “We passed a coffee shop on the way. Java Beach. They must have a phone.”
As they ambled along the lane to the village, neighbors on porches waved to them, and people they passed said hello. After the harried bustle of Boston, Ivy welcomed the change of pace, though she knew that in less than six weeks, summer crowds would descend on Summer Beach.
She was betting on it.
“There’s Java Beach,” Shelly said as they neared the coffee shop they’d seen on the way in.
When they stepped into the coffee shop, heads swiveled toward them. Nautical nets were suspended from the ceiling, tiki torches anchored the counter, and vintage Polynesian travel posters of grass-skirted hula dancers covered the walls. Beach reggae played in the background, and the scent of roasted coffee and sweet pastries permeated the air.
An older woman in a gaudy rhinestone sun visor and dyed royal blue hair called out, “Mitch, you’ve got customers!”
A twenty-something man wearing flip-flops and a Hawaiian shirt pushed through a set of doors from the kitchen. “What’ll it be, ladies?” Mitch’s smile was warm and engaging, especially toward Shelly.
Ivy held up her phone. “I’ve got a dead battery. We’re stranded. May I use your phone?”
“Sure.”
