Chapter 13
I vy was reviewing the week’s guest reservations at the antique check-in desk when Kiko appeared in the foyer. She wore a floral print dress and had a canvas tote over her shoulder.
“Do you have a few minutes?” Kiko asked, bringing out her phone. “I want to show you something.”
“Of course.” Ivy closed her reservation program. “What is it?”
Kiko glanced around the foyer. Guests were seated on the settee near the staircase reading a map, and Shelly was arranging fresh flowers on the entry table. “Somewhere quieter?”
“Let’s use the parlor.”
Ivy led her through the archway. The morning light flooded through the windows in long, sunny rectangles stretched across the rug.
“I have an old photo from my grandmother,” Kiko said. She brought out a faded black-and-white photo from her bag. “This is the main reason I came.”
“Not the psychic?”
Kiko blushed a little. “She saw this, too.”
Ivy lifted her rose-print reading glasses from a chain around her neck and peered at the photograph. “Your grandmother is lovely. Is the man her husband?”
“No, I didn’t know who it was,” Kiko replied. “But now I think I’ve matched him to a photo from one of your albums. I’d like your opinion.”
They sat at the table, and Kiko placed her phone between them.
She opened her photos and scrolled to an image Ivy recognized.
It was one of the black-and-white photographs from their album.
Youthful looking officers stood on the terrace clad in white hospital robes.
One sat in an old-fashioned wheelchair, and another stood with crutches. Staff hovered beside them.
Kiko zoomed in on a lean young man, staring not into the camera, but at a woman near him. One arm rested in a sling.
“This is the man,” Kiko said, tapping the image. “See, he’s looking at my grandmother in this photo. I was so surprised to see this matched the man in her photo. But I’m nearly certain it is. Don’t you think so?”
“It does look like the same man. And your grandmother was quite attractive as a young woman.”
“She was always beautiful and elegant, even as she grew older. I’ve been staring at this photograph. I tried searching online to see if I could find a match, but there was nothing. Have you found any old records of patients who might have been here during the war?”
“I’m sorry, no,” Ivy replied. “I imagine those would be with the military. Do you have his name?”
Kiko turned over her photograph. “I can’t make out the old cursive writing. Looks like an old-fashioned R. Then an a, maybe an r or an s, or even a u. An l on the end. Maybe Raul? I can’t tell.”
Ivy examined it closely, but part of the ink was smudged. “May I see the old image again?”
Kiko expanded the image, and Ivy studied the enlarged face on the screen. The man looked young, late-twenties at most. Handsome, but thin with a fair complexion.
“Maybe he was of Spanish heritage,” Ivy said. “Your grandmother never mentioned his last name?”
“Not to me. Or anyone else that I know of—who might still be living, that is.”
Kiko scrolled to another photograph, this one showing a wider shot of the terrace. “I’ve gone through every album you have. This is the only clear image of him. He’s in a couple of other group photos, but his face is partially obscured.”
“Why do you want to know who he is?” Ivy asked.
Kiko pressed her lips together before speaking. “My grandmother told me she nursed him back to health. However, relationships between the staff and patients were not allowed. She said they would meet in the greenhouse to talk.”
The prickly feeling started at the back of Ivy’s neck. “Were they close?”
Kiko looked at the photograph on her phone for a long moment. “I remember the day I found this photo among her things. Her face bloomed with a happiness I’d never seen. Before she died, she told me he was her only regret in life.”
She touched the thin gold pendant at her neck. “She also wrote that he gave her this necklace. She wore it almost every day until the day she died, but I never knew its history until then.”
“Do you know what happened between them?”
“I don’t know, as any relationship would have been forbidden.
” Kiko rubbed the tiny pendant as she spoke.
“After the war, when she returned to what was left of her family, her mother forbade her from marrying outside of their community. The internment had devastated them. They’d lost everything and trusted no one who wasn’t like them.
They felt they had to hold onto what they could, including their traditions. ”
Ivy nodded slowly. “That’s understandable.”
“After her father died at Manzanar, my grandmother remained an obedient daughter who cared for her mother.” Kiko’s jaw tightened.
“As a young widow, my grandmother raised my mother alone. Or as I came to learn later, that was her cover story. There were circumstances women didn’t speak about after their internment. ”
Ivy couldn’t imagine what they’d been through. She rested a hand on Kiko’s. “I’m sorry for your family. And your parents?”
“They were more modern. I’m just curious,” Kiko said.
“And you wonder if there was anything to what the psychic said.”
Kiko laughed. “I suppose so, silly as it sounds. But I think some people really are gifted. Maybe she’s one of them. I want to find out what happened to this man. And why my grandmother didn’t reach out to him after her husband died.”
Ivy tapped her fingers on the table. “I just remembered…I know a couple who might have old notes about people at the convalescent house. They wrote a book about the history of Summer Beach.” She glanced at the bookshelf.
“We had a copy, but I don’t see it here.
Are you sure you saw all the old albums we have? ”
Kiko nodded toward the bookshelf. “I went through those two. Most of the photos looked like the owner’s personal collection.”
Ivy realized the others were tucked away in the cabinet.
She rose and opened a latched cabinet beneath the bookshelf.
“We don’t keep these out because they’re delicate.
The paper is breaking down, and small pieces fly around.
” She sat down and opened a photo album.
“I think there are more photos in here.”
They went through the pages together. Ivy pointed out more photos of Amelia in her herb garden, a group of nurses on the front steps, and the pool being used for physical therapy.
“There’s my grandmother again.” Kiko identified her in more group photographs, often standing slightly apart from the other nurses, her hands clasped in front of her. “I can tell by the way she holds herself. Her posture was perfect.”
In one photo, Ivy noticed the young man with the arm sling standing at the entry to the greenhouse, holding a potted plant in his good hand.
“He looks awfully proud of that orchid,” Kiko said, leaning closer.
Ivy traced the edge of the photograph with her finger. “The greenhouse was lovely then. And it will be again soon. You said you wanted to look inside.”
Kiko sat back. “I don’t know what I’m looking for, but as long as I’m here, I might as well.”
Ivy closed the album. “Or we could walk into the village right now. The couple I mentioned own Antique Times on Main Street. Arthur and Nan have helped us research the history of this house before. Arthur is meticulous about local history. Maybe he has some insights.”
Kiko perked up. “Do you think he’d have records from the convalescent home phase?”
“If anyone in Summer Beach does, it’s them. I have a little time. Want to go now?”
Kiko reached for her tote. “I sure do.”
Ivy removed her reading glasses and stood. “I need to pick up a few things at the hardware store for Shelly, but I can walk with you to Antique Times and introduce you to Nan and Arthur. They’re also on the Spring Fling committee.”
Minutes later, the two women walked into the village along the tree-lined sidewalk.
Java Beach was busy, and Ivy decided to stop at the neighboring hardware shop, Nailed It, on the way back.
The doors were open at Paige’s Bookshop, and the scent of fresh bread drifted from the bakery two doors down.
“What a cute town,” Kiko said. “I dread going home. I’ve loved living in San Francisco, though I’ve been dreaming of a less hectic pace. I’ve thought about freelancing from home. Many graphic designers do that.”
“Life can surprise you when you decide to live the life of your dreams,” Ivy said as they neared the antiques shop. “Here we are.”
The window display held a collection of vintage maps and nautical instruments arranged to tell a story.
“I love shopping for antiques,” Kiko said.
“My grandparents sold so much when they went to Manzanar. It was costly to store items, especially without work or income. No one knew how long they would be there. Many years later, we bought a chest from an antique shop my grandmother had sold to someone else. She was so happy, she cried.”
Ivy smiled at that, imagining how they must have felt. “That’s a lovely memory. I’ve learned it’s not the things we acquire but the memories and meanings attached to them that we cherish.”
Inside, the shop was a beautifully displayed maze of furniture, art, and curiosities. Vintage chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting prisms of light across hand-loomed rugs and glass jewelry cases.
Nan appeared by a row of vintage armoires, a feather duster in one hand and a rag in the other. Her red curls bounced as she crossed the shop. “Why, hello, dear. What a nice surprise to see you again.”
Ivy introduced the two women, and they chatted.
“The word is that Clarence is leaving town,” Nan said. “He claims the committee treated him badly.”
“Wow, sure seemed it was the other way around,” Ivy said, shaking her head.
Nan’s eyes widened. “He was trouble from the beginning. Arthur feels bad about recommending him for the committee, but he didn’t know him very well. Clarence didn’t have a reputation in Summer Beach yet.”