On their flight back from Boston, Shelly had been uncharacteristically quiet. Ivy didn’t know if she was upset over Ezzra or Mitch—or both. Each time she tried to coax conversation out of her, Shelly shut down. But now, out here, surrounded by the nature she loved, Shelly seemed better. For the time being, at least.
Shelly looked up as Ivy approached. “Are you sure the room is ready for the guests?”
“I’ve triple checked.” Ivy pressed a hand to her warm forehead. “I also opened the windows to let the sea breezes in.” She paused. “This is really happening, isn’t it? Our first rental, our first day in business.”
“My insides are leaping like crazed grasshoppers.” Shelly redirected the water nozzle toward another group of new plantings. “I’m giving these plants an extra drink before I leave them. It’s awfully dry for this time of year. We haven’t even gotten to the June gloom yet, and it’s already feeling like summer.”
“Feels like hot Santa Ana winds.” Ivy met Shelly’s eyes. “I hate to say this, but Mom always said unseasonal heat feels like earthquake weather.”
“Don’t even say that,” Shelly said. “Besides, we’re not directly on a fault line here. But we should stock up on bottled water and supplies, just in case.”
“And sunscreen.” Ivy looked at Shelly’s handiwork, which enlivened the entrance and appealed to her artistic sense. “You’re doing wonders with the yard. And these plantings are gorgeous.” Ivy really meant it, and she could see that Shelly appreciated her taking notice of her efforts.
“You should paint these flowers. Those bare walls inside are screaming for artwork.”
“I set up my easel and paint in the atrium sunroom,” Ivy said. She’d even dabbled a bit the day before, and it had felt good.
“Our shipments should arrive soon,” Ivy added. “I’ll hang those first.” Fortunately, most of her paintings of the New England coastline had already been packed from her first move. It was easy to ship them. She’d also brought a couple of small paintings back on the plane.
Shelly sprayed a light veil of water over the freshly planted flowers. “I have a more elaborate plan in mind for a tropical seaside garden to chronical and video, but this was quick.”
Shelly’s mood seemed to have improved, but Ivy still detected a trace of melancholy.
Just then, a car arrived at the curb, and Ivy motioned the guests into the long, curved drive. “Here they are.”
“No more late night dance parties in the kitchen, I guess,” Shelly said. “Or we could invite guests to join us.”
“Darla would love that.” Ivy thought of how Bennett and Mitch had walked in on them that crazy night when they were blasting music, dancing, and attacking the brick wall. The past couple of weeks had been a stress-filled blur, but she’d also had more fun than she’d had in a long time, despite her problems with Bennett.
“Dang, we’ll have to invite Darla to the open house, won’t we?” Shelly flicked the water nozzle off and bent down to pat dirt around the base of a petunia.
“We should.” Ivy glanced next door. “But I don’t know whether to spike her Sea Breeze juice cocktail and risk a vitriolic rage, or serve her a virgin cocktail…and still risk a vitriolic rage.”
“I see your point.” Shelly brushed dirt from her hands. “While you see the guests in, I’ll pour the juice.” She hurried around the back toward the kitchen.
Ivy watched Shelly go and wondered what she could do to help her. She turned to welcome the new guests.
“Welcome to the Seabreeze Inn,” Ivy said to the young couple that got out of the car. They wore beach attire, and the easy way they slung their arms around each other as they walked toward her reminded her of herself and Jeremy when they were their age.
The fond, unbidden memory surprised her. Humans were neither all good nor all bad—they were just human and fallible, herself included. With a full life to look forward to now, her anger at him was lessening.
And after Bennett, she needed to face the fact that she might never find another person to spend her life with.
With gravel crunching under her sandals, she took a step toward the couple. “You must be the Calloways. Please come in.”
“Megan and Josh,” the young woman said. They greeted her and followed her inside.
While Ivy quickly stuffed her bundle of flowers into the cut-crystal vase in the foyer, Megan slowly turned around, her eyes sparkling as she took in the soaring ceiling and honeyed parquet floors.
Ivy and Shelly had redesigned the ballroom into a reception room, and they’d opened the bank of French doors on the long veranda to catch the ocean breeze. Chairs facing the sea would be a nice addition, Ivy thought, making a mental note.
Ivy and Shelly had grouped the furnishings they’d found on the lower level into small conversation areas to bring the scale of the room down to a more personal level. Shelly added an array of interior plants, including orchids, potted palms, fiddle-leaf fig trees, and other tropical plants. With large windows and sunlight streaming inside, the room took on an airy greenhouse feeling.
“Wow, your home is amazing,” Megan said.
Ivy was thrilled. As soon as she had stepped off the plane from back east, she had purchased mattresses and bedding for each guest room. This had cost a small fortune, but Nan had wired the money from the sale of the chandelier to Ivy’s bank account. She expected the expense would pay for itself many times over. Per Poppy, a fire pit was also on its way. Next week, the pool would be inspected and filled, and the piano tuned.
“We weren’t too sure about this place,” Josh
