Chapter 15
G roaning, Ivy rolled onto her side and pushed herself up, making sure her ankle wasn’t twisted. Nothing felt broken, but she already felt a bruise forming on her knee. How could she have overlooked that gaping hole? She pushed herself to her feet.
Nothing damaged but her pride.
Ivy brushed dirt from her hands. She wasn’t made for this sort of work; she was better with a paintbrush than a shovel.
At the curb, a young woman climbed out of the parked truck.
Sage had sun-streaked brown hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap. She tucked a clipboard under her arm, then waved.
“Are you Ivy Bay?”
Ivy limped toward her and extended her hand. “Sage, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”
“Glad I had an opening.” Sage’s grip was firm, and her calloused hands looked capable. “We have a lot of ground to cover, pun loosely intended.”
Ivy liked her already. She gestured toward her sister. “Shelly will join us in just a moment. You two speak the same language.”
“That’s cool. I drove past yesterday to get a sense of the place.” Sage surveyed the front lawn where Thorn was wrestling with a dead stump. “The property has good bones. The soil grade is working with you, not against you. That’ll save on trenching.”
“That’s the first good news I’ve heard about the irrigation.”
Sage pulled a folded site drawing from the clipboard.
“I sketched a preliminary layout. This is an aerial view. I suggest several zones for the main grounds, a separate line for the greenhouse, and drip systems for the terrace planters. You’re already using drought tolerant plantings, so that reduces your need for water.
I’ll need to walk the property and take soil readings, but I can give you a rough estimate today. ”
“How rough?”
“Honest rough. I won’t pad it, and I won’t lowball it and hit you with change orders later. You’ll get a fairly real number.”
Ivy liked her style. She called out to Shelly, who finished with their new helpers and joined them.
“How did that go?” Ivy asked.
“Amazing,” Shelly replied, her face filled with wonder. “That approach worked just like you said it would.”
The three women spent time circling the property.
Sage probed the soil at intervals, made notes on her clipboard, and asked questions that revealed she understood more than plumbing.
She asked about the plant palette, the sun exposure in each zone, and Shelly’s watering preferences and rainwater collection system.
Ivy could tell that Shelly was impressed and comfortable with Sage. She breathed a sigh of relief. That would be two problems taken care of today, if the estimate came in at a reasonable cost she could cover.
When they reached the greenhouse, Sage stopped and whistled.
“Wow, what a beauty. I hope you’re keeping this?”
Shelly smiled with pride. “I love it, even though it needs some work.”
“Do you have anyone who can do that?” Sage asked. “Some of those panes are cracked, and some are missing.”
Ivy hesitated. “We haven’t lined up anyone yet. The greenhouse is lower on the priority list right now.”
“It shouldn’t be. If you’re planning to run a drip line in there, the structure needs to be weather-tight first. Otherwise you’ll lose humidity control, and the line pressure won’t regulate properly with missing panes.”
“That’s right,” Shelly said. She walked the perimeter with Sage, examining the frame.
Sage surveyed the structure. “The steel frame is still solid, only in need of a little repair. You probably want to check out the vent mechanisms to ensure they open and close easily. It looks like this has had some maintenance over the years.”
Ivy inclined her head. “That was probably while it was under management right before we acquired it.”
Shelly looked impressed. “Do you know someone who could work on it?”
“My uncles have restored Victorian conservatories from Santa Barbara to San Diego. They’d make the drive for a project like this.”
“Do you think they could start right away?” Shelly asked.
“They’re both semi-retired, so their schedule is flexible. They charge a fair rate on projects they love.” Sage examined a broken vent hinge. “Looks like these vents are original. They need new hardware, but they’ve got sources. I bet they’d love to get their hands on this.”
Listening to them filled Ivy with relief.
She’d put off the greenhouse renovation that Shelly wanted because it was the one they could least afford. But if Sage’s uncle could handle the glass and vents, it might be more reasonable than she’d thought.
Shelly threw a pleading look at Ivy.
Ivy nodded. She’d figure out the finances. They couldn’t pass up this opportunity to do everything at once.
“Can you put me in touch with him?” Shelly asked.
“I’ll call him tonight.” Sage made a note on her clipboard. “Now, about the irrigation. Based on what I’ve seen, here’s my project pricing.”
She flipped to another page and walked them through her numbers for materials and labor before confirming a timeline.
Ivy was pleasantly surprised. The final figure was significantly lower than the bid from the larger company Ivy had been dealing with, even though the scope of the job was the same.
She studied the page. “Are you sure this is for the complete system? All the zones plus the greenhouse line?”
“Everything. Installed, tested, and running.” Sage shifted her weight.
“My company is new, so this would be one of my first major residential sort of installations. But I worked five years for a major irrigation company before starting Garden Sprinkles. I’ve designed systems for resorts all over North County in Carlsbad, Encinitas, and Oceanside. ”
“Rosie spoke highly of your work,” Ivy said. “Do you have references from any of those jobs?”
Sage pulled out a sheet of paper from the bottom of the clipboard. “I thought you might want references.”
Ivy would check in with these general managers, but she was impressed. Clearly, Sage wanted their business to build her new company. Ivy liked helping another woman get her business going.
She exchanged a look with Shelly, who nodded her approval.
Ivy asked, “When can you start?”
Sage’s composure cracked with a big smile. “Tomorrow, if that works. I can have the main line trenched and zone one operational by the end of the week.”
“Tomorrow is fine,” Shelly said.
They shook hands, and Ivy watched Sage walk back to the truck.
“I think we got lucky, Shells. You really liked her?”
“A lot better than that other company.” Shelly rolled her eyes. “They tried to mansplain my garden plan back to me. I think she’ll be great, and if her uncles can restore the greenhouse, I’ll be thrilled. Thank you for that. I know it’s not in the budget right now.”
Ivy bumped her sister’s shoulder. “That’s what a working capital line of credit is for.”
She’d figure it out. She always did.
Though streaked with dirt, Shelly’s face shone with happiness. “I don’t know who was more excited—us or Sage.”
“I’m glad Rosie mentioned her. Starting a business can be terrifying, but Sage seems like she’s got this. If she does, we should be close to finishing on time.”
Ivy crossed her fingers for good luck. Because they still needed it, for sure. Anything could happen and often did.
“This might actually work,” Shelly said, sounding amazed.
Ivy set her jaw. “It’s going to work.”
From across the lawn, they heard Thorn let out a whoop. He’d freed the dead stump and was holding it over his head like a trophy while dirt rained down on his hair and shoulders.
Moss and Vanz applauded. “Yeah, bro, you did it.”
Fern held up her phone, photographing the accomplishment for social media.
“Woo-hoo!” Shelly cried, clapping. “We’ve got this. Thanks, Ives,” she added, giving her a high-five.
Ivy left her sister on the terrace and walked back toward the inn. The afternoon sun felt warm on her shoulders, and for the first time in weeks, it seemed like the property was moving in the right direction.
She went through the rear kitchen door to check on Sunny and Poppy. Everything seemed under control. Even Pixie was safe in her room.
At the front desk, she handed Poppy the list of references Sage had given her.
“Would you call these references to check on Sage’s work?
Her contractor’s license number is also at the top, so please check the state database for any complaints that might have been filed.
I trust her, but it’s always good to make sure. ”
Poppy looked it over and nodded. “On it, Aunt Ivy.”
“I doubt there’s anything, but that’s a good practice. Thanks.”
Sunny stood watching her. “Some people think this is easy work, but there’s a lot you need to know. How did you learn all this, Mom? You were an art teacher.”
“You learn as you go,” Ivy said. “No one would ever start anything if they had to know it all before they began.”
Sunny grinned. “Except maybe brain surgery.”
“Good thing that’s not part of our job description,” Poppy said.
Sunny laughed. “But prepping for the wine and tea event is. I’ll go tend to that.”
Ivy smiled at them. “Thanks, you two.”
Happy to have delegated these tasks, Ivy made her way to her sun-filled studio at the rear of the inn.
She wasn’t used to this sort of normalcy, if you could call the controlled chaos outside that, but it was a good feeling. More please , she thought.
A text from Bennett buzzed her phone, and she opened it.
How’s the first day going?
She tapped back: Better than I hoped. Tell you tonight.
As she set the phone down, her gaze caught the easel near the window. She stared at her unfinished painting and thought about the couple who’d given her an advance on it. Her deadline had kept sliding while she poured everything into getting ready for the Spring Fling.
She’d already applied a wash of blue on the canvas for the sea and managed a rough outline of the coastal cliffs. She had so much work ahead, and she hadn’t picked up a brush in days.
Bennett’s voice echoed in her mind. You need to prioritize.
With the sound of shovels and laughter drifting in from outside, she made a decision. Bennett was right. She would make time for herself.
Ivy reached for an oversized paint-splattered shirt to put over her top, then brought out her brushes. As she selected the brushes she would use, a sense of joy welled within her.
Her art was her refuge. She needed it like Shelly needed to feel the dirt in her hands.
Just then, Sunny appeared at the door. “Hey, Mom. Sorry to bother you here, but there’s a guest looking for you.
Kiko is asking if she can extend another week.
We’ll have to switch her room unless the next guests don’t mind.
I figured I needed to check with you because you made a note on that reservation. ”
Holding a brush in midair, she paused. “Sure, I can do that in a little while.”
Sunny looked apologetic. “She also wants to talk with you now if you’re available. Something about a garden, and a guy named Ken. It sounded important. What should I tell her?”
Ivy cast a longing glance at her canvas. Part of being an innkeeper was being available to guests. Kiko was staying here by herself, and Ivy sensed she didn’t have many people to talk to about this pilgrimage for her grandmother she was on.
She was needed. With a sigh, Ivy removed her painting shirt. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
Ivy glanced back at her canvas. She didn’t like to rush her work and hoped the couple who commissioned the painting would understand if it was a little late.
Or maybe she needed to talk to Pixie’s therapist about boundaries.