Instantly, Ivy realized she’d hurt Shelly’s feelings. “Hey, I didn’t mean it. Look at all you’re doing for Vanz. I’m so impressed.”
“Ha, ha, got you again.” Shelly chuckled.
Ivy shook her head, but this was part of Shelly’s kooky charm. “Like I said, incorrigible. But I had a thought about the bunker. It’s a real time capsule, so I thought about making a time capsule for Summer Beach residents. They could put meaningful items or writings in it, with a promise to open it at some point in the future. What would you put in it?”
“My best heirloom seeds and Mitch’s recipes. What about you?”
“Good question,” Ivy said thoughtfully. “I’d have to think about that.” How could one distill a complex, richly lived life into a few trinkets to share wisdom or meaning?
They were still trying to ascertain Amelia’s motivations for her actions. Every time they learned one thing abouther, another chapter opened. Ivy had the feeling there was still so much more to discover about the woman and her life.
Those were thoughts for another day, or a languid evening in front of the fireplace.
She and Shelly climbed the front steps of the inn and paused on the wide terrace.
“Picture this,” Shelly began, spreading her hands like a director as she spoke. “Autumn-themed wreaths on the door and windows. We can use them through the end of the year by changing the decorations from fall harvest to Christmas. Less cost, less storage, and a fun project for Sunny. Maybe Vanz would like to pitch in. I’ll show them how, and video it for my social channel to bring people in.”
“I like that idea,” Ivy said. “What about Halloween decorations? This is a major stop for trick-or-treaters. We don’t want to terrorize the youngsters, but they’d like a little spooky fun.”
“We could fashion ghosts from our white bedsheets by tying them over balloons, then illuminate them with special lighting. We can have an entire family of apparitions.” With a glimmer in her eyes, she added, “Maybe our Amelia spirit will join in the fun.”
Ivy frowned and held a finger up to her sister. “The jokes are over. Don’t go there. If you start that rumor, even during Halloween, it might never die down.”
Shelly laughed. “Oh, my gosh. Chill, Ives. I’m only kidding.”
Although Ivy sensed the presence of the former owner, she wouldn’t admit to Shelly how often or how real those feelings had become. Ivy had been terrified people might believe the inn was haunted and not patronize it, especiallya few years ago when she desperately needed the business to work after Jeremy died.
But now?
She shivered. To face that was to agree with everything her sister joked about, and she wasn’t quite ready for all of Shelly’s woo-woo shenanigans.
Ivy put her hands on her hips. “Do you talk like that to annoy me or because you really believe all that ghostly stuff?”
With a playful whack on Ivy’s arm, Shelly laughed again. “Who cares? Where’s your sense of fun, Ives?”
“I’m serious, have you ever actually had an encounter in the house, or has all this conjecture been for fun?” Now Ivy really wanted to know.
“What do you think?” Shelly waggled her eyes and flounced into the house as gracefully as she could in overalls and garden boots, where Poppy was looking after Daisy.
“Take off your boots,” Ivy called after her, shaking her head. Would her sister ever grow up?
Then, an uncomfortable thought seized Ivy.
Why would she ever want Shelly to change?
Her younger sister brought the fun and levity to life, whereas Ivy worried too much about responsibilities, financials, and how things looked to others. Worrying never solved anything; only planning and action.
While she and Shelly somehow balanced each other, she was the one in danger of growing old in mind and spirit before her time.
Her sister, infuriating as she could be, had a valid point. This season, Ivy resolved, she would lighten up her worries.
And yes, she would invite Amelia, she thought with a nod. Maybe Amelia would sit in that kitchen chair thatsometimes gave Ivy the creeps to watch Diya Donnelly at work in their kitchen.
She smiled at the thought.
Diya was a chef and cookbook author known for her spicy fusion cuisine, combining traditional Indian spices with Italian, French, and other cuisines. Her books and public broadcasting television show were gaining in popularity, and her social media followers were climbing.
Although they’d only had a few weeks to plan it, Diya was thrilled to host an autumn-themed cooking school at the inn. Ivy worked out a deal with her for a percentage of the room rates for the attendees she brought. The chef was pleased with the arrangement and eager to escape a snowstorm in Vermont for a sunny week at the beach, even in the slightly cooler off-season.
