“Ready to go?” Bennett asked.
“In just a moment.” A thought crossed Ivy’s mind. She wanted to speak to Adelina again. About several things, in fact.
Adelina had called what she’d seen in Barcelonawhimsical.
That’s what Ivy wanted for the library art museum. Could Adelina create mosaics that would capture the joy she and many others had discovered in Summer Beach?
Ivy thought she could. Art that would beckon to more treasures within.
The idea excited her.
Furthermore, she had invited Emilie and Tristan to join them for their harvest feast and stay through the weekend. She wanted to introduce Adelina and Emilie, but when she looked for Adelina to ask her, the woman had left.
21
Ivy woke at dawn to a pink sunrise through the palm trees. She slipped from beneath the warm duvet, careful not to wake Bennett, who deserved another hour of sleep.
This was the day of their harvest feast, a day of gratitude and shared blessings, of food and laughter, of family and friends.
Thanksgiving.
Her mother’s words sprang to mind.
The act of giving thanks for life’s blessings.
If only her mother were here, but her parents were so far away. Still, she was happy knowing they were having a wonderful time and still going strong at this stage of their lives. She would call them a little later with her siblings.
This was a quiet moment before people would begin to arrive.
The only guests in residence at the inn were Gilda, Caleb, and a young, high-spirited Italian couple bloggingabout their travels around the world. The next stops for them were Hawaii and Japan.
Their guests were invited to the feast because all the restaurants were closed, and the aromas from the kitchen would be sheer torture if they weren’t included. Today, everyone was family.
She shrugged into her robe, padded across chilly wooden floors, and slid her feet into furry house boots. The day looked cold and clear at the beach, a perfect day for the gathering.
But she didn’t have time to linger in their small kitchen with a cup of coffee she desperately needed. She had to dress and continue the preparations for the evening dinner they’d planned for three dozen people.
Including the guests at the inn, she realized the count was more than that. The younger generation often brought friends and dates, too.
Nevertheless, she loved this day with all the faces of people special to them gathered around the tables. Few stayed sour for long when there was so much food and so many different people to talk to.
Even Darla smiled on Thanksgiving.
Ivy dressed quickly in dark corduroy trousers and a warm, emerald-green top that brought out her eyes. She hurried to the main house. She scooped coffee and started it, then mixed and poured batter into a muffin tin to bake. At the sound of a car engine, she looked out to see Mitch and Shelly pull into the car court with Daisy and Vanz.
The back door clicked open. Mitch entered first, carrying a cardboard box, his cheeks flushed from the cool morning air.
“You’re here early,” she said, pleased to see him.
“I need to get those big boy turkeys prepared. Besides, I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited to try adding Diya’s new spice blends to my turkey rub.”
“Sounds daring.”
Mitch set down his box and pulled out small bags of spices. “They’ll love it. Nothing too wild, though.”
Shelly hustled inside with Daisy on her hip. “Good morning. We have a couple of sleepyheads with us.”
The little girl yawned. She was still wearing her one-piece pajamas.
