Seabreeze Book Club

Chapter 2-1

2

“It’s a wonderful home for you,” Ivy said, surveying Mitch’s casual beach cottage where Shelly’s suitcases and a few moving boxes were stacked in the corner. Sea breezes wafted through the open windows facing the ocean. Ivy breathed in the fresh, natural scent of warm sand, sunshine, and saltwater that filled the simple cottage. “Such a cozy space. It feels light and happy.”

“One bedroom is all we need right now.” Shelly tucked the sunflowers Ivy had bought at Blossoms into a chipped, blue ceramic pitcher. She placed the arrangement on a wooden picnic table in the dining alcove. “This is more room than I ever had in New York. And just look at that view.”

Her sister was moving into her new husband’s home in Summer Beach, not far from the Seabreeze Inn she and Shelly had been operating for a little more than a year. Shelly was close enough to walk to work at the inn, and Ivy couldn’t be happier for her.

Still, she felt a twinge of sadness. Ivy would miss sharing coffee in the morning or a glass of wine on the terrace and discussing the day’s events with her.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Ivy said. Before her sister’s wedding, Ivy had been concerned about the relationship. Still, since Shelly and Mitch had returned from their brief honeymoon in Baja California—basking at a friend’s beach house—their relationship seemed solid.

Maybe that’s what she and Bennett should do. They needed something; she knew that.

“Mitch says this is one of the original beach cottages.” As Shelly glanced around, she brushed back wayward strands of hair that had escaped her casual topknot. She wore a turquoise sundress that had belonged to their mother, so it was a little short for her. Around her neck were layers of silver and turquoise that she’d brought back from her trip.

Shelly went on. “I know this place looks a little shabby, but Mitch swears it’s sturdy.”

“Shabby chic is a style,” Ivy said, gesturing toward the chipped pitcher. “It fits here.”

“This place might be small, but it’s paid for,” Shelly said. “Mitch bought it when he first started making money at Java Beach. Bennett told him beach property would be a good investment. Later, one of his regulars gave him a stock tip about a hot new technology company over coffee, so Mitch put some money into the company. When the stock shot up, he sold it and paid off the house.”

“I’m impressed,” Ivy said, checking out the whitewashed overhead beams. They seemed solid enough, much like Mitch. Despite a tough childhood and a grave misstep as a teen that had landed him in prison for a year paying off the theft he’d committed, he had made something of himself. But most of all, he loved her sister. “When did he tell you that?”

“While we were lounging on the beach in Baja.” Shelly smiled. The sun had brought out the freckles on her nose and cheeks.

“That was a nice surprise,” Ivy said. “And there’s plenty of room on the lot to add on another bedroom or two when you need it.”

Ivy wondered how soon Shelly and Mitch would start a family. Her sister had been eager to have a child for years, and at her age, she didn’t have much more time. Mitch was younger than Shelly—not yet thirty.

Shelly heaved a sigh. “That’s the last thing I want to think about now. First, I need to kick this stomach bug I picked up in Mexico. Mitch warned me against drinking unfiltered water.” A shadow crossed Shelly’s face, and she glanced away. “Besides, I have to spruce up the place.” She tapped on the weathered wooden table. “I’ll sand this and give it a coat of white paint. The old bookshelf there, too. I need a place for my books.”

“We can do a lot with paint.” Though Shelly had swiftly changed the subject, Ivy had caught it, along with the flimsy excuse she gave. Ivy wondered about that. As a child, whenever Shelly didn’t want to do something or was hiding something—such as forgotten homework—she’d feigned illness.

Ivy hoped Mitch hadn’t changed his mind about starting a family. Earlier, he’d been reticent about having children because he’d grown up with an abusive father and feared he might have inherited the psychological tendency. But she thought he’d worked that out in therapy before the wedding.

Ivy had to ask. “Are things okay with you and Mitch?”

“It’s just that everyone is asking about us starting a family, even if they are joking about it.” Shelly threw up her hands. “I’ve waited forever, okay? And it’s getting kind of personal. It will happen when it happens. Or not.”

“I completely understand, and it’s your right not to talk about it.” Rather than press the issue, Ivy put her arm around Shelly’s shoulders and nodded toward a battered surfboard propped on glass blocks that served as a coffee table. “What about this surfer dude theme?”

“It’s going to be history in about a week.” Shelly twisted her lips to one side. “I feel like I’m living in Java Beach. Fortunately, Mitch says he’s ready for a change here, so he can move that to the coffee shop.”

In the small, airy cottage, vintage surf posters lined the walls, the windows were bare, and a denim-covered futon served as a couch. The hearth of a stone fireplace held a mix of seashells and driftwood Mitch had collected.

Mitch was in his late twenties—nearly a decade younger than Shelly—and it was clear that he’d taken little interest in his home. But then, he spent most of his time at Java Beach serving the best breakfast in town or taking tourists on charter tours on his boat. He worked hard, yet he still fit in surfing almost every day to unwind.

“What are you planning to do with the place?” Ivy asked.

“I want to put in a garden right away—I have vegetables and herbs that I started in the greenhouse at the inn. Mitch and I have talked about transforming the rear yard with stone pavers, a covering, and a fire pit. Once that’s underway, I’ll begin on the interior. Mitch liked my idea of blue and white with cheerful pops of color. I’ll video the entire process for my channel.”

Shelly had been running a lifestyle video blog that over the past year she’d expanded from her New York City floral arrangements and thrift shop finds to include the work she’d done on the old beach house that Ivy’s husband had unexpectedly left her after he died.

As Ivy looked around, she bit her lip. “Do you have time for all that right away?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s summer, the inn is at full capacity, and the house needs work.”

The Seabreeze Inn had been the summer home of Amelia and Gustav Erickson, wealthy art collectors from Germany via San Francisco. The palatial old home the couple had once called Las Brisas del Mar had become dated and worn over the decades.

“My landscaping is still in great shape, isn’t it?”

“I really need help with more than that.” Although Shelly and Mitch had been back only a few days from their honeymoon, Ivy was already a little miffed at Shelly’s attitude.

Last year, Shelly had helped transform the overgrown grounds and redecorate the shabby interior. Since they’d arrived, the old house had become a new center of activity in the village. And it had given Ivy and Shelly a chance for new beginnings. They had agreed to split the earnings.

Shelly rolled her eyes. “Okay. You don’t have to keep asking.”

Ivy bit back a comment. Moving into Mitch’s house was supposed to be a happy time for Shelly, and Ivy didn’t want to ruin it with an argument. After all, her sister was thrilled to be living her dream at long last.

Ivy turned toward the boxes of Shelly’s belongings that Mitch had brought from the inn. Seeing her sister’s belongings in the cottage brought home the reality that Shelly was gone. Ivy felt a strange tightness in her chest. She rubbed a spot just beneath her collarbone.

Maybe it was separation sadness. Ivy and Shelly had been through so much together in the last year. Little more than a year ago, with their lives at the lowest points they’d ever known, they had decided to start fresh in Summer Beach. And now, this was supposed to be the happiest time in Shelly’s life.

Mine, too, right? Ivy thought about Bennett and how understanding he had been with her.

She bit a corner of her mouth. “It’s going to be quiet at the inn without you.”

“Hey, I’m still working there,” Shelly said, slinging an arm around Ivy. “I’ll be back soon. I just need a couple of good nights’ sleep after our trip.” She grinned. “I won’t bore you with the details—just beware of cloudy water.”

“I hope you get over what that is.” Hearing Shelly say she would return calmed Ivy a little. “Still, it won’t be the same without you around all the time. Whose room will I run to when the storms hit?”

“Won’t Bennett be right there beside you?”

Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know what people would think about that.”

Shelly’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”

“That was a commitment ceremony. It’s not really legal without a marriage license.” It was Ivy’s fault for not updating her driver’s license and passport. Every proof of identity she had was expired, and she had no idea where her birth certificate was.

Rolling her eyes, Shelly said, “Who cares? Brother Rip, a bona fide man of the cloth, performed the ceremony. Besides, you’re adults. And everyone knows you’re a couple in Summer Beach. Geez, don’t be so old-fashioned, Ives.”

But I am, Ivy wanted to say. It had only been two years since her husband had died, and she was just getting back on her feet financially—and emotionally. While her adult daughters seemed okay with Bennett’s new place in their lives, Ivy wanted to make sure they hadn’t been caught up in the excitement of the crazy wedding weekend that had turned out far different than anyone had planned. What had started as a guest wedding had turned into a hasty, though beautiful, ceremony for Shelly and Mitch.

“Bennett understands,” Ivy said.

Shelly arched an eyebrow. “Does he?”

“He’s patient. And this is all so new to me.” Ivy fidgeted with a frayed seam on her yellow cotton sundress. Bennett had been her surfing crush when they were teenagers, and now he was the mayor of Summer Beach. She might have dreamed of being with him as a kid, but she had never imagined her life might turn out this way.

“New is good.”

Ivy shifted and leaned against the edge of the table. “It’s just that sometimes I still wake up expecting to see Jeremy next to me. And I’m so relieved when I realize I’m free, even though I have a lot of responsibilities.”

“And Bennett.”

“I do love him,” Ivy said. She’d been a stay-at-home-mother in Boston when her husband had died from a sudden aneurysm. Becoming a beach-front innkeeper had been the farthest thing from her mind. So was remarrying, although she truly loved Bennett. “We agreed that our ceremony was simply to announce our intention.”

“You’re not kids,” Shelly said pointedly. “It’s okay to do whatever you want.”

“We’ll get there,” Ivy said, feeling a little foolish, but she couldn’t help how she felt. The past year had been incredible, not only because she’d fallen in love again, but also because she’d risen to the challenge of running the inn. On her own, she’d pushed herself far beyond her comfort zone. And prevailed. That felt good, but would she lose that again in marriage?

Shelly quirked her mouth to one side. “I agree with Mom. Bennett’s a hot commodity. Be careful you don’t let him slip away.”

“He’s the one who should be worried I don’t get away,” Ivy shot back, mustering more confidence than she felt.

She wished she could talk to her mother. When Carlotta and Sterling Bay had pulled into the first port they’d planned in Mexico, they’d called each of their children to tell them what a wonderful time they were having. But they decided that it took too long with poor connections. They promised to rotate calls among their children in California.