“Thank you for helping me pick up the painting today,” Ginger said, cutting the small silence between them. “Oliver adores Ivy’s seascapes. I’m sure he doesn’t expect this.”
“It’s been a well-guarded secret,” Marina assured her. “Others, not so much. Last night, Scout dragged out the colorful case we bought for Leo’s surprise laptop.”
“Didn’t you and Jack hide it?”
“Sure, but that dog opens doors, and we don’t have many hiding places in the cottage. Still, Leo was ecstatic over his early gift. He loves his new computer.”
Ginger laughed. “Unexpected mishaps are half the fun of holidays. As long as no one is hurt.”
“I had plenty with the twins when they were young.”Life moved fast, she thought.
Jack’s son was nearly a teenager. Heather had graduated from university and became engaged last year. Although she and Blake had initially planned a summer wedding, with her managing the Coral Cafe food trucks and Blake overseeing a new marina life rescue and research organization, they’d decided to put off the wedding until spring.
Marina eased the van in front of the Seabreeze Inn, and a woman on a ladder turned to wave at them. Shelly secured one end of a green garland over the front door before climbing down to greet them. Velvet-red poinsettias lined the path to the entry and spilled from the veranda. Beribboned wreaths hung from every window.
“Shelly has outdone herself on decorations this year,” Ginger said. “I’m sure Amelia Erickson is pleased with her efforts.”
Marina smiled at the mention of the former property owner. “You speak as if she’s still with us.”
“Maybe she is.” Ginger unbuckled her seatbelt. “She was such a force; I’m not surprised that her presence is still sensed here. That’s what Shelly tells me. Fortunately, Amelia’s spirit seems benevolent.”
“I wouldn’t mention that to Ivy.” Marina grinned as she turned off the engine.
Although Ivy, her sister, and niece had transformed the grand old home into a popular inn, a roaming spirit was a sensitive subject between them. Ivy worried a haunted inn would be bad for business; Shelly argued the opposite. They’d disagreed about that since Marina arrived in town.
When they started toward the entryway, Shelly moved the ladder to one side, greeted them with hugs, and opened the door. “Ivy told me you’re picking up the painting for Oliver.”
“I hope my suggestion worked out,” Ginger said, her eyes brightening.
Shelly smiled. “I think it’s one of her best.” She excused herself to continue her work outside.
Ivy was in the foyer with their niece Poppy, who ran the marketing efforts for the inn. The room was festooned with lavish garlands and brightened with poinsettias. A hint of cinnamon and nutmeg filled the air.
“What lovely decorations,” Ginger exclaimed.
Ivy greeted them and they chatted a little about the upcoming open house, a popular affair that Marina, Ginger, and the rest of the family would attend.
After chatting a little, Ivy said, “I’ll bring the painting out for you. Would you like to come with me or wait in the parlor?” She motioned toward an adjoining room tastefully decorated with antiques and seascapes.
“We’ll wait,” Ginger said, sitting on the sofa. “We can visit with Poppy.”
But before Poppy could join them, the front door opened, and a slender young woman with a pixie haircut, black turtleneck, and paint splattered jeans stepped inside. She gazed around the grand entry with a tentative expression.
Poppy stepped from the reception desk. “Welcome to the Seabreeze Inn. Do you have a reservation?”
“No, but I hope you have a room for a few days.” She rested her backpack by the door. “I was on my way to an arts and crafts show in Los Angeles, but my vehicle had other ideas. The mechanic says it will take several days to find the right parts and repair it.” The young woman’s dark blue eyes scanned the entryway with keen interest.
“I’m sorry, we’re fully booked,” Poppy replied. “You could try the Seal Cove Inn.”
“They sent me here.” The woman lifted her eyebrows. “I’ve never been to Summer Beach. Could you recommend another inn here?”
Ginger brushed her hand against Marina’s. She glanced at her grandmother, whose eyes held a curious look of interest.
“Are you an artist?” Ginger asked the younger woman.
Mildly surprised, she nodded. “My hand painted Christmas ornaments and snow globes are popular this time of year.” A smile wreathed her delicate facial features. “I’m Holly Berry—my parents had a sense of humor.”
Marina couldn’t resist asking, “Were you a Christmas baby?”
