Ivy listened to her husband play, enjoying their time together. Tomorrow would bring the chaos of construction, with Reed and his crew tearing apart sections of the inn. The fundraising gala had made it all possible. But tonight was theirs. A private celebration while they could still find the time to be alone.
The uncomfortable undercurrent sparking between them dissipated. The library denial wasn’t his fault, but still, she was frustrated with the process. Somehow, she would find a way to return a beloved institution to Summer Beach. She couldn’t depend on Bennett, or rather,the city, to help much.
She nestled closer to her husband, pouring love into the fissures of their marriage to bond them forever. They needed that magical glue now because the next weeks ahead would test their patience more than ever.
2
“Watch your head,” Ivy said to her sister as they stepped through the plastic sheeting that divided the music room from the hallway.
Shelly ducked through the zippered opening and into the room under renovation. Her long chestnut hair was piled into a messy bun. “This place is such a wreck. At least it’s intentional this time. Remember when we took hammers to the old brick wall?”
“That moment changed everything.” Ivy grinned as memories surged through her. The paintings they’d found sent news of their fledgling inn zinging through the art world, bringing the guests they desperately needed to keep the business afloat.
The inn would soon be completely closed. Her brother Forrest had fast-tracked the renovation and put his son Reed in charge.
Ivy peeled a piece of blue painter’s tape from her sneaker and tossed it aside, brushing her hands on her worn jeans. Most of their guests had checked out, except for one in the rear cottage and their long-term guest, Gilda.
The book clubs had also pleaded for one more meeting there. Reluctantly, Ivy relented. Since the Summer Beach library was damaged and closed, Ivy provided space for library patrons to meet at the inn.
Shelly sneezed from the dust. “This renovation is getting serious now.”
“Reed’s crew is working on electrical issues now,” Ivy said. “Guests will be able to use hair dryers at the same time without blowing fuses.” She grinned at a memory, although it hadn’t been funny at the time. “Remember the Wilson wedding?”
“How could I forget?” Shelly made a face. “The ceremony was delayed so the bride and bridesmaids could dry their hair. That cost us a couple of free nights and extra appetizers while everyone waited.”
A sense of relief coursed through Ivy. “Those incidents are nearly behind us.”
“We’ll have to find higher-class problems, like temperature control in my yoga space. Some guests complain it’s too hot, but I tell them it’s good for stretching.” Shelly reached out and flicked a light switch several times. She nodded with satisfaction. “Look, no more flickering lights.”
“Or midnight plumbing calls,” Ivy added, reminiscing with a strange fondness for the old house’s original dilapidated condition when they’d first seen it.
Shelly bumped Ivy’s shoulder. “Just when I was getting good at plumbing emergencies. That’s a life skill I finally sort of mastered. Does this mean I won’t need my pipe wrench anymore?”
“Don’t toss it just yet,” Ivy replied. “I’m sure you could be on call for any number of folks in town. There’s always Darla.” Ivy jerked her head toward their neighbor’s home.
“I didn’t say I wanted to do it, only that I can.” Shelly laughed. “Mitch appreciates it, though. He’s better in thekitchen, so we balance each other. His customers at Java Beach don’t care if he can’t handle a hammer as long as he can work that fancy espresso machine and whip up breakfast.”
Ivy gazed around the room, pleased with the progress. Construction would shift into an even higher gear after the last guest checked out in a few days. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could reopen for the high summer season.
A good-looking younger man wearing work clothes and boots stepped through the plastic sheeting. “What do you think, Aunt Ivy?”
“You and your crew are doing a beautiful job, Reed, but…” She bit her lip, hating to bother him again, but a guest had complained. “It’s Dr. Kemper in room 114. Could your crew begin later in that section? Or work more quietly?”
“I told you we shouldn’t have rented any rooms,” Shelly said, shaking her head. “It’s not like me to turn down the money, but this place is a wreck. I wouldn’t stay here.”
“It was good enough for you for a long time,” Ivy said, nudging her.
Shelly grinned and poked her back. “You know what I mean.”
Ivy shook her head at her sister, although she wasn’t upset. Shelly was being her usual contrarian self, and Ivy had learned to laugh at most of her comments and antics. At least, she tried.
As for Dr. Meryl Kempner, the woman had arrived for her granddaughter’s birthday and found there were no other options in town. Her family members had taken every available room and couch at her son’s home. After one night on a small air mattress, she’d pleaded with Ivy, citing her aching back from an injury sustained during her military service.
Ivy was friends with the family, so she readily agreed to accommodate the retired woman.
Reed stroked his chin. “How about we work on another part of the house in the mornings?”
“That would be great,” Ivy replied. Her nephew had accommodated their guests as they wound down the reservations.
