“I finally visited the house that Jeremy bought in Summer Beach,” she said in a light tone, minimizing the difficulty of the visit after she’d been avoiding it for so long. Falling back into the familiarity of an old routine, Ivy picked up a stack of woven cloth napkins and silverware her mother had left on a table and began to set the places.
“Very glad you did,” her father said, pride evident in his voice.
Shelly grinned at her in solidarity. Continuing to listen to the conversation, Shelly wandered around the yard, inspecting the roses and the garden.
“Any luck selling the house?” Carlotta asked, drawing her fine, dark eyebrows together.
Ivy folded a napkin and placed it at one end of the table. “Not even a showing.”
“That’s odd,” Carlotta said. She was arranging a vase of her fresh-cut roses for the table. “Flint told me Bennett Dylan is quite successful in real estate.”
“That’s okay. I’ve decided to move into it.” Ivy glanced at Shelly, who nodded. This decision solved both of their housing problems. “Shelly, too. We’re going to fix it up and rent out rooms.”
“Why, that’s a wonderful idea,” Carlotta said. “You’ll be close to your brothers and their families.”
“I’ll ask your brothers to help,” Sterling said. “I’ve heard the old Erickson estate needs a lot of work. Are you sure you can manage the finances?”
“Fairly sure. I’ve run some preliminary numbers. Without a mortgage, I only have to cover insurance, repairs, utilities, and taxes. There should be profit left over for both of us.” She’d have to create a spreadsheet and perform proper projections, which she had done in a business class that she’d taken as an elective. That had been a long time ago, but she’d managed the household expenses for years.
Ivy lit the candles on the table. “What do you know about the place, Dad?” Her father was a local history buff.
“Been vacant a long time.” He removed the roasted vegetables from the fire and slid them onto a platter. “Lot of old stories about that place.”
“Like what?” Ivy placed a salad and bread basket that her mother had brought out on the table.
Her parents exchanged glances. “The Erickson woman knew a lot of artists,” Sterling said as he opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for each of them.
Shelly carried platters of food to the table. “What? Is it haunted or something?”
“Not unless you believe in that sort of thing,” Carlotta said.
Ivy looked from one to another. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that Amelia Erickson was an avid collector,” her father replied in a reassuring tone. “That place has a lot of history. Come, let’s eat and celebrate your homecoming.”
Ivy raised her glass of wine to theirs, though she couldn’t help but wonder. Exactly what kind of history? And had she made a prudent decision?
Chapter 6
THE NEXT MORNING, Ivy stood in front of her mother’s three-way mirror, which revealed more than she’d dared to view in years. Nearby, Shelly and Carlotta watched.
“What do you think?” Ivy had poured herself into one of her mother’s sundresses. She’d left a voice mail for Bennett, but her mother, always the problem-solver, had hurried to her closets to choose outfits for them to wear until their luggage arrived.
Shelly was delighted, but Ivy was less enthusiastic.
“Wow, I haven’t seen you in clothes like that in years,” Shelly said.
“That’s because I don’t own anything like this.” Ivy wore a coral-colored sundress that her mother had brought out of her closet. The dress had a scooped neckline and a fit-and-flared silhouette that flattered her waistline. The hemline grazed her knees, showing off her legs, while the neckline displayed a little more cleavage than she was accustomed to sharing with the world. She felt awkward and bare, and it wasn’t her style. She turned to the other side. Still, she had to admit that it was flattering, even a little sexy. The color brought out her green eyes and the highlights in her hair.
“And the pièce de résistance.” Her mother looped a handcrafted coral and turquoise necklace from an artisan she’d represented over Ivy’s head. Carlotta turned her palms upward. “Stunning.”
The jewelry added a certain flair to the dress, Ivy decided.
“You should have new clothes for your new life here,” Carlotta said, her face lighting at the idea. “Let me splurge on you. Both of you. I know a fabulous little shop in La Jolla with plenty of dresses like these.”
“I’m more of a jeans-and-T-shirt person,” Ivy said. “Besides, I have plenty of clothes.” When Ivy saw the pleasure on her mother’s face dissipate, she paused. She hadn’t meant her words to sound so defensive.
“It’s just that I don’t want you to spend your money on me,” Ivy added with haste. “You’ve already done so much for the girls.” And in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder if her mother wanted to spend her money on her children while she was still alive. She softened her tone. “I’m just worried about you, Mom. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, and I assure you we can still afford our lifestyle,” Carlotta said, sniffing at Ivy’s comment. “I’d hoped to take all you girls, including Honey, shopping before the party.”
Shelly was sorting through clothes in Carlotta’s closet. She poked her head out. “When are Honey and Gabe flying in?”
“In a few days.”
“I can’t wait to see them,” Ivy said. Honey was a few years older than Ivy, so Shelly was closer in age to Honey and Gabe’s daughter, Elena, who lived in Beverly Hills and had made a name for herself as a jewelry designer to the stars. Since Honey lived on the beach in Sydney, Australia and owned a fashion boutique for resort wear, she had the casual beach look down.
“Actually I have something you might like.” Shelly picked up the large leather purse she carried and pulled out a book. “A friend of mine sent this to me to review
