Chapter 4
Later that evening, after bathing and washing her hair to get the last of the grapes out, Ivy slipped into a silky gown and robe. She joined Bennett on a small sofa in front of the fireplace in their room.
She let out a contented sigh. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about the season. The inn feels different now. It’s the first time we haven’t had a long list of repairs to do in the off-season.”
Bennett stroked his stubbled chin. “Do you miss the chaos?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“Sometimes I feel the same way. You achieved a big goal. The challenge and constant activity kept every day fresh.”
“We had a lot of surprises. Not all pleasant, but in retrospect, we can laugh about it now.”
Bennett put his arm around her and drew her close. “It’s awfully quiet there now.”
She tucked her feet under her, thinking about the season ahead. “We should plan a big feast for Thanksgiving. That’s one of my favorite holidays. It’s about feeling gratitude and spending time with loved ones and friends.”
“Before the Christmas open house? That’s a lot of work for you.”
“Still, I’d like to do something special. Maybe we should create another tradition.” She had an idea in mind. “What about families in need in Summer Beach?”
Bennett nodded thoughtfully. “Sadly, there are always some. If we know about the situation, community organizations try to help.”
Ivy stared into the fire, thinking about what they could contribute. She made a mental note to establish a food drop-off point at the inn for less fortunate families.
Thanksgiving was one of her favorite holidays, though it was recognized only in the United States and Canada, which celebrated with a feast several weeks earlier.
First embraced by ancestors who settled in New England hundreds of years ago, the harvest celebration was originally derived from those of Indigenous tribes, including the Wampanoag, that had long honored harvests with feasts of thanksgiving.
Ivy recalled that the modern version of the celebration was put forth by Sarah Josepha Hale to bring the United States together post-Civil War.
In the nineteenth century, Hale also published “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” helped establish Vassar College, and advocated for women’s education and rights as property owners.
This year, Ivy and her family would celebrate by giving thanks for their family and friends and hosting a harvest feast.
“I wish Misty could make it home for the holiday.” The words came out more wistful than she intended, so she tried to inject brightness into her tone. “Though I know she’s busy with her career.”
“Has she booked anything new?”
Ivy nodded, her spirit lifting with pride. “Yesterday, she called with news that she had landed a part in a film shooting in New Zealand. Another actor took ill. It’s a small part, but she’s thrilled.”
“That’s wonderful.” Bennett shifted to look at her. “When does it shoot?”
“November.” The word sat heavy between them. Enjoying the warmth of the fire, Ivy watched the logs crackle. “So, no Thanksgiving for her this year.”
Bennett traced small circles on her shoulder with his fingers. He didn’t say anything, just waited.
“I know it’s her career,” Ivy continued. She could hear the forced reasonableness in her voice. “This is what she’s worked for. And she has her life in Los Angeles. I can’t expect her to drop everything for one meal.”
“But you miss her.”
“Of course, I do.”
The simple observation cracked open her heart, and Ivy’s throat tightened.
“Parents want their children to grow up and follow their dreams. You think those young years will last forever, but in the grand scheme of life, it’s only a few years.
Then you live the rest of your life without them. Missing them.”
“Until the grandkids arrive.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
The possibility of that seemed a long way off to Ivy, and she didn’t want to pressure her daughters to marry or have children. She might hope for that, but most of all, she wanted them to follow their dreams and live a good life.
“What did you and your family do for Thanksgiving?” Ivy asked.
“I always went to my sister’s house,” he replied. “Even when Jackie was alive. What about you? What did you do when the girls were young?”
“We were all crammed into a small kitchen. Misty would complain about the heat in the kitchen, and Sunny would steal bites of everything before it was done.” She swallowed against the bittersweet memories of Jeremy. “It all ended so suddenly.”
Bennett understood because his first wife had died, just as her husband had. Their marriage was a second chance for each of them.
“Life has its seasons,” he said. “Children grow up and build their own lives. That’s what’s supposed to happen. Doesn’t mean the love is any less.”
She blinked against the emotion filling her eyes. “I’m happy for her. Really. This is everything she’s wanted.”
Bennett pulled her closer, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“You’re allowed to be disappointed,” he said softly. “Being happy for her doesn’t mean you can’t have coexisting emotions.”
Ivy exhaled. He was right, of course. The Thanksgiving she’d been imagining this year with everyone gathered at the inn and a big harvest table laden with food would be missing pieces of her heart.
Her parents were still sailing around the world on their boat, so they wouldn’t be there. Instead, they would be navigating their way around the Cape of Good Hope just south of Cape Town in South Africa.
Misty was following her dream of an acting career, one that she’d studied and worked so diligently for.
Bennett was right about coexisting emotions. Ivy was disappointed that she wouldn’t see them for the holiday but happy that those she loved were following their dreams.
Misty telling stories about auditions, Sunny rolling her eyes, and all of them together wouldn’t happen this year. Maybe never again in the same way. Sunny would be the next to leave. These were the empty nest years people warned about. Find a hobby or volunteer, they advised.
In her case, her nest was filled with guests at the inn. They’d fill their harvest table with others this year.
Still, she could hope.
“Maybe Misty can come home for Christmas,” Ivy said. “Is that too much to ask the universe?”
Bennett pressed a kiss to her cheek. “That’s never stopped you before. Ask for anything you can dream of. But remember why Misty and your parents won’t be with us this year.”
“I know, and I want the best for them, just as they do for me. That means we’re not always walking or sailing the same path, but it’s sweet when our paths cross.”
Still, she sent up her silent wishes on plumes of smoke.
Staring into the crackling fire, she tried to minimize her disappointment and concentrate on the positive pursuits of her parents and Misty. Relaxing in front of the fireplace with Bennett, wrapped in his arms, life seemed more manageable.
“We’ll make this year a celebration of what the year has brought us,” Bennett said. “And share it with others. That’s what we do in Summer Beach.”
“The holidays at the inn are different,” Ivy said thoughtfully. She recalled guests they’d had in years past, those who’d appeared with gifts of the spirit they hadn’t known they needed.
This was the season of harvest, the time to reap what had been planted. “I wonder if we planted enough goodwill to harvest this year?”
Bennett chuckled. “Every crop grows better with fertilizer. With the renovation, you certainly had your share of manure, so to speak.”
Though Ivy laughed at his joke, she still had a prickly feeling that this year’s harvest season might serve up the unexpected.