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 for my blog.”
Shelly’s gardening and floral arrangement site had morphed into a lifestyle vlog, with Shelly’s 3-minute video makeovers for home, garden, and personal style being her most popular.
Ivy took the book and flipped through it. “The T-Shirt & Jeans Handbook. Are you kidding? I’m an expert at that.”
Carlotta and Shelly traded exasperated looks.
“You can keep your basic style,” Shelly said, tapping the cover. “But you really need to up your game.”
Ivy closed the book, but not before she saw several photos of stylish outfits that caught her eye. “I’m through playing games,” Ivy said. Especially with Bennett. Now that she thought about it again, where was their luggage and why wasn’t he returning her calls?
Carlotta arched an eyebrow. “If you won’t listen to me, listen to your sister.”
“You have to live a new life now,” Shelly added.
“And I am, as of right now,” Ivy said, appraising herself in the mirror. Still, they had a point. “Mom, do you have some shoes to go with this?”
Carlotta bustled into her walk-in closet and emerged with a pair of handcrafted jeweled sandals with short kitten heels. “These look good with that.”
While jeweled sandals were the last thing she’d buy, she tried not to cringe while she slipped them on. “Not bad,” she said grudgingly. They were cute in a twenty-something way. Yet her mother got away with them.
“Wow, you rock those,” Shelly said, clapping.
“You look fabulous,” Carlotta added. “Very California chic.”
Ivy slid another look into the mirror. Surprisingly, the color did lift her spirits.
Carlotta held up a yellow sundress for Shelly. “This is one of my lower hemlines. With your long legs, I’m afraid most of what I have would be too short on you.”
Shelly slipped into the dress, which still hovered above her knees. “Perfect, Mom. Thanks.” She gave her mother a peck on the cheek. “We have to be on our way. Will you stop by later to see the house?”
“If I have time after yoga,” Carlotta said. “The keys to the old Jeep are on the rack by the garage.”
“It’s still running?” Ivy asked. “That car must have a few hundred thousand miles on it.” The Jeep had been passed from one child to another when they were growing up. Ivy had good memories of that old vehicle. They’d carried all their friends to the beach in it.
“We replaced the engine, so it still runs fine.” Carlotta smiled. “It’s yours.”
“Just until I can get a car.” Ivy hadn’t driven in months. She’d usually taken the subway in Boston, and she had sold Jeremy’s BMW.
Carlotta shook her head. “As you wish.”
Yesterday Ivy had been so certain of her decision about the house, but now trepidation crept over her. Could she really manage such a large undertaking? Her pulse quickened, and she sat on the bed, resting her chin in her hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“You’ll find a way, mija.” Carlotta put her arm around Ivy. “Your father and the boys can help with cleaning and painting, and Shelly can manage the landscape.”
“Already volunteered,” Shelly said, turning to Ivy. “We’ll figure it out together. That’s what Mom always told us, so that’s what we’re doing.”
Ivy reached out to hug her sister. “I needed that reminder.”
“Speaking of that…” Shelly rummaged through her bag for a pen and a pad of paper that had a sparkly rainbow on the cover. “Here. You’re the Great Organizer. Start with a list of what we’ll need.”
“You’re on.” Ivy grinned. With a pencil and paper in her hand, she felt grounded. How well her sister knew her.
Ivy and Shelly left their parents’ home and drove along the coast to the smaller community of Summer Beach.
As Ivy drove, she thought about her decision. She was scared to death, but she had little choice except to forge on and give this project everything she had.
“What shall we call the place?” Shelly asked as Ivy drove.
“Las Brisas is the old name, but I’d like a new name to represent the new era. Summer Beach Inn is a bit plain.”
“The Breeze Point Inn?”
“Maybe.”
As she pulled into the long drive, Ivy had another idea. Once inside the house, she pocketed the key. “I’ve got it. Welcome to the Seabreeze Inn,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. All she could think was how much money it would cost to open the doors to the public. The thought of it made her queasy.
“Hey, that’s a sweet name,” Shelly said, following her inside. “By the way, what was in those Sea Breeze cocktails?”
Ivy grinned at her. “Cranberry and grapefruit juice. Vodka optional. I used to drink the virgin version when I was pregnant with Misty.”
Shelly chuckled. “I know you were being responsible, but you do see the irony in that, right?”
“I think the fully loaded version is how I got pregnant,” Ivy whipped back at her.
“Seabreeze Inn it is. I like that. Sounds sunny and fresh.” Grinning, Shelly flicked an old light switch, and the stunning chandelier in the entry blazed beneath layers of dust and cobwebs. “First on the list, glass and crystal cleaner.”
Ivy shook her head. “To clean all the windows and light fixtures in this place would cost a fortune in product alone. I make a window cleaner with white vinegar and water. A lot cheaper and just as effective.”
“Vinegar? You’re kidding, right?”
“We had two children to put through college. I found a lot of ways to economize, especially on expensive branded cleaning supplies.”
“While your husband was off spending your retirement on colossal beach houses.”
“Point.” Ivy made a face. “But white vinegar still works well. Fewer chemicals, too.”
“Point. Vinegar it is.”
Ivy made her way into the ballroom and flicked another switch. The entire room blazed with light from the chandeliers. Her heart lit with them, and her mind raced with possibilities. She raised her hands to frame the room. “Reception desk here, sofa and chair grouping there.”
“Wonder what all those chandeliers cost?” Shelly whirled around in a graceful pirouette, and her dress swirled around her like a bright sunburst.
Ivy eyed the grand chandelier in the foyer and jotted a note on her little pad.
They strolled through the downstairs rooms that comprised the public spaces: the dining room, the library, the drawing room.
“We’ll create a library for the guests,” Ivy said, smoothing her hand over handsome built-in bookcases in dark, carved wood. “We can contact local writing groups and host author’s book signings here, or in the salon.”
“I’ll check in with libraries and local bookstores,” Shelly added.
With their footsteps echoing in the nearly empty rooms, they continued to another room that still had a piano in it.
“Music room?” Shelly opened the wooden keyboard cover on the grand piano and ran her fingers across the ivory keys. An off-key melody filled the room. “Must have been beautiful in its day.”
Ivy winced from the sound. “Still can be. Needs tuning.” She scribbled a note on another page, imagining guests mingling and listening to a pianist in the evening. “Maybe a local music teacher would send students who want to practice. Until we can afford a regular pianist, that is.”
“I should brush up on my old songs.”
“You still play?”
“Not in years. Ezzra wasn’t wild about my practicing. The keyboard I wanted was fairly expensive, and New York apartments are too small anyway.” She lifted a shoulder and let it fall.
“Playing the piano makes you happy.” Ivy detected a note of sadness in her sister’s voice. What kind of man made a woman give up her hobbies? Ezzra was worse than she’d imagined. “You’ll practice here whenever you want.” If Shelly could play again, Ivy could paint. With that, she started for the kitchen. Shelly followed her, humming a tune.
“This would house an army of cooks and caterers,” Shelly said, glancing around the spacious kitchen.
“I’m sure it did.” Ivy gazed around. Long tables, or prep stations, ran down the center of the room. To one side, an adjoining butler’s pantry linked the kitchen to the large, wainscoted formal dining room. She stepped into the pantry. “This is where the staff must have organized the dishes, stemware, and silverware.”
Shelly opened a cabinet. “Look what’s still here.”
Ivy peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, vintage china and crystal filled the cupboard. She took out a plate and wiped off a layer of dust. A gold rim framed a delicate floral pattern. She turned it over to see the markings on the back. “Looks like these are from France.”
“Fancy,” Shelly said, surveying the collection of teacups, soup bowls, and serving dishes. She opened other cupboard doors and whistled. “There’s more. Looks like Jeremy didn’t touch a thing when he bought the place.” She tugged on a cabinet door. “Locked. Wonder what’s in here?”
“Maybe the silver?” Ivy stared at Shelly.
Ivy ran her hand over the inlaid wood. “We have to figure out how to open this. I wouldn’t want to damage it.”
“Bennett might have extra keys,” Shelly suggested.
“Better to call a locksmith.” The less she had to do with Bennett, the better. She jotted another note on her notepad.
“I’ll call Bennett,” Shelly said. “Locksmiths cost money.”
“As long as I’m not around.”
Shelly shook her head. “Whatever happened was a long time ago. He doesn’t even remember you.”
“Exactly.” Ivy jabbed the pen in the air. “Let’s check out the plumbing.” She strode back into the kitchen and turned on the faucets over one of the large sinks. The pipes rumbled to life, and soon water spurted from the tap. Within seconds, the water ran clear.
Shelly did the same to another one. “This one looks good, too.”
“The estate’s property manager did a decent job of keeping up the plumbing.” For that, Ivy was grateful. Plumbing and electrical would be her greatest expenses, she suspected. “Hope that goes for the toilets and tubs, too.” She glanced around. Two vintage turquoise refrigerators flanked a tiled counter. “Think those still work?”
“They built appliances to last back then,” Shelly said.
Ivy tried to shove one, but it barely budged. “Heavy, too. Help me with this one?”
Ivy and Shelly shoved a refrigerator from the wall. Ivy knelt to plug it in. As she stood up, brushing cobwebs from her hands, the refrigerator made a loud whirring noise. She stumbled back.
“Sounds like the fridge is getting ready for lift-off,” Shelly said, inspecting the hulking appliance.
“As long as it works.” Ivy opened the door, and a musty smell wafted out. “If it does, I need a truckload of baking soda, too.”
“Think it’s safe to leave it on?”
“We’ll watch it. Now, let’s go upstairs and choose our bedrooms.”
Shelly grinned. “Race you.” She charged up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, while Ivy took her time, admiring the wooden steps that had hand-painted tile risers in between each step. The attention to detail in the house was impressive.
When Ivy was halfway up the staircase, a melodic doorbell chime sounded in the hallway, though it sounded a bit garbled. “Wait up, Shelly. I think we have company.”
Ivy hurried down to the front door and opened it.
Bennett stood on the steps with their luggage. Blinking, he took in Ivy’s new style. Then, raising his eyebrows, he swirled his hand around by his head. “Hi. You have…something…in your hair.”
“I do?” She touched her hair, remembering the cobwebs. “Oh no, are there any spiders?”
“Spiders? I don’t see any,” he said.
Ivy began shaking her hands. “Please check. I was behind the refrigerator.” Her breathing quickened, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. “Hurry! I hate spiders more than anything else in the world.” And of all people to see her like this…
“Well, okay,” Bennett said, cautiously taking a step toward her. “I’m not too fond of them myself.”
“Oh, come on. Just look, will you?” Ivy shook her head and fluffed her hair. “Do you see anything?” She bent lower so he could get a better look.
Gingerly, Bennett lifted strand after strand, peeling off stray webs. “You’ve got a lot of cobwebs in your hair.”
Ivy shivered. “Please get it all out,” she pleaded. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
“Hold still, I’m working on it.”
“Any spiders yet?”
“No. Oh, yuck.” He plucked something out and flicked it.
“What was that? Why didn’t you let me see what it was?” She shook her hands in despair.
“It was some sort of insect that was caught in the web. Don’t worry. It was long dead. Kind of crunchy.”
“No details, please.” She shuddered again.
“Hold still,” he said.
Shelly appeared in the foyer. “What’s going on here?”
“I got into a spider’s web behind the refrigerator. Bennett’s picking out the cobwebs.”
“Among other things,” Bennett added.
“Oh no, anything in my hair?” Shelly asked.
“Let me see.” Bennett peered at her hair.
Still bent over, Ivy glanced up. “Hey, remember me down here?”
“Oh, yeah. I think you’re all clear,” Bennett said. “But you should wash your hair as soon as you can.”
Ivy whipped back up and shook her hair. “I don’t need grooming tips from you.”
“You asked me to—”
“I know, and thank you,” Ivy replied, miffed at him for ignoring her the moment Shelly appeared. Her sister was younger and more beautiful, but for Pete’s sake, Ivy had spider webs and dead creatures in her hair.
“Our luggage, thank goodness.” Shelly clapped her hands.
“I got your message,” Bennett said to Ivy. “When I saw a car out front, I thought it might be yours.”
“Thanks,” Ivy said. “It’s good to have our clothes back.”
Bennett cast another appreciative glance over her. “You look nice, though. Really nice.”
Ivy’s hand shot to her cleavage. Had she been hanging out when she was doubled over? She was filled with embarrassment.
“Courtesy of our mother’s closet,” Shelly said.
“Your mother has exceptional taste,” Bennett said, shifting on his feet. He glanced back at Ivy, then reached toward her hair. “Wait, just one more…”
“What are you doing?” Reflexively, Ivy dodged his hand.
Bennett plucked something from her hair. “Got it. You really need to—”
“Wash my hair. I know,” Ivy said, tossing it back. The way he looked at her was uncomfortable, and her heart was already pounding from the thought of spiders. “Thanks for the luggage and everything.” She reached for the door.
“Wait,” Shelly cried. “Bennett, do you have any extra keys to the house?”
“I might. I’ll check Claire’s files. I believe there were some documents—and maybe a set of plans—that went with Las Brisas.”
“Guess what?” Shelly’s eyes flashed with excitement. “We’re calling it the Seabreeze Inn. Do you like it?”
“Inn?” Bennett asked, frowning. “You can’t run this as an inn.”
“And why not?” Ivy was growing perturbed with him. Why couldn’t he just leave the luggage and go?
“Because it’s not zoned for that. This is strictly a residential neighborhood.”
Ivy put her fists on her hips. “So who should I see about having that changed?”
Bennett hesitated for a moment, staring at her before he spoke as if he were weighing something in his mind. Finally, he said, “You’ll need a business license, too. Start at the treasury office and the zoning department at City Hall. It’s in the village.” Narrowing his eyes, he said, “I thought you planned on making this your home.”
“I am, but I have to do something with all this space to pay the property taxes,” Ivy said, exasperated at his inability to understand her dilemma. She spoke slowly to make her point. “If I don’t run this as an inn, I’ll lose the house to a tax sale.”
“Unless you make improvements and list it for sale again. Now that you’ve finally found time to see your property, I’m sure you can understand the problem I had in trying to market it all these months.”
Ivy drummed her fingers on her arms, anxious for him to leave. “I appreciate your advice, but I prefer to handle this property my way.”
“The zoning is there for a reason.” Bennett shook his head. “You’re just like your husband, aren’t you? Next you’ll want to tear down the house.”
“Okay, you two.” Shelly cut in, touching each of their shoulders. “Bennett, we’re so glad to get our bags. Hope to see you around town soon.”
“Or not.” Ivy held open the door and tapped her foot. What had she ever seen in him?
“Oh, you will,” Bennett said. “I can guarantee that. By the way, you’ll also need to transfer the utility bills into your name.”
After Bennett left, Ivy blew out a breath. “The nerve of that guy, thinking he should stick his nose into my business. That sounded like a threat, and I sure don’t need his uninformed opinion. Hope I never have to see him again.”
Shelly watched Bennett get into his SUV. “Think he’s right? About the zoning, I mean?”
Ivy slammed the door. That man was as full of himself as he had been when he was younger. “We’ll see about that. There are plenty of seaside inns up and down the coast of California. When I tell the zoning department about my plans, I’m sure they will approve the use.”