Chapter 16
Ivy strolled through the garden with Shelly in their gardening boots. “This will be a busy week with the cooking school guests coming in.”
They’d trimmed back or cleared out the early tomato plants that had run their seasonal course.
Ivy was helping because Shelly had been devoting time to Vanz in the last couple of weeks, making him comfortable in their house, registering him for school, and buying him new clothes.
His mother said she would visit soon, but Ivy wondered if the woman was just saying that or if she meant it.
Still, Vanz was settling into a routine, and his mental health was improving.
Imani had been so thoughtful and gracious in helping him.
As the two sisters worked, they discussed ideas for seasonal garden changes and decorations for the inn, from pumpkins to poinsettias.
Shelly removed her gardening gloves after clearing the last of the spent plants. “How about we set up a spooky Halloween house in the bunker, call it a dungeon of horrors, and charge admission? That would help pay for preservation.”
Ivy was skeptical, and she couldn’t tell if her sister was serious or joking. With Shelly, you never quite knew.
Although the thought was amusing, Ivy said, “I don’t think it’s safe, and it would destroy the integrity of the bunker as it is now.”
“Oh, my gosh, you thought I was serious?” Shelly mussed Ivy’s hair and laughed.
Ivy smoothed her hair back. “You’re incorrigible. I wish Mom and Dad could see how little you’ve changed.”
Shelly’s expression fell, and her lower lip trembled. “I can’t believe you said that. I really try, and you know how much I look up to you.”
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 about her, 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, especially a 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 that sometimes 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.
The cooking week guests would arrive soon.
Ivy heard a car in front of the house, and she turned to see her brother Forrest parking in front. He waved and walked up the palm tree-lined path.
“What a surprise,” Ivy said, greeting him.
“I had a consultation here and it ended early, so I thought I’d have lunch with Bennett. We got fish tacos from Rosa’s food truck, then went to see that bunker. Bennett took me through it. I hope you have some time to talk about it.”
“Sure, let’s go inside.” She took off her gardening boots by the door and carried them inside toward the kitchen.
Bennett found the bunker so intriguing, he had been taking people down to see it. Mitch, Sunny, and even Boz from the planning department. Darla had peered down the chute, though she wouldn’t climb down into it.
While her brother talked about his impressions of the bunker, Ivy put her boots outside the rear kitchen door and changed into low-heeled boots. They moved to the kitchen table and Forrest reached for a chair.
“No, take that one,” Ivy said, pointing to another.
“What’s wrong with this one?”
“It’s been…unsteady.” She smiled and sat down. “What do you think we can do about the bunker? I’d like to preserve it.”
Forrest laced his fingers. “I think we can if we moved the main structure closer to the front of the property. However, you’d need a variance from the city to do that.”
“Boz might be favorably inclined.” At least, she hoped he would be.
“We’ll also need to have the existing structure examined and make reinforcements as needed.” He paused. “Do you know anything more about it, other than what’s there?”
“I contacted local and state historians to inspect it. We know the Ericksons were hypervigilant about protecting art, culture, and people from harm during the war. The bunker was probably a private effort, but it might have been part of the protection efforts here on the West Coast. A team of history professors, graduate students, and other experts are piecing together a probable story based on historical facts and timelines. We hope to learn more soon.”
“A civilian effort?” Forrest shook his head.
“I don’t know. The construction looks like the work of the army’s engineer team that built others on the coast during that time.
I could be wrong, though. And you need to have that tunnel checked out.
That was a clear addition, likely by a private party constructed either at the time or later. ”
“We haven’t found anything that would indicate people had been down there after the war. The magazines, the canned food, the logs, they all date from the end of the war. Nothing later.”
Forrest nodded. “I imagine no one wanted to go down there after the war ended. They had lives to get back to.”
“Assuming we’re able to shore up the bunker, I don’t know if we would allow the public in or limit entry to researchers and historians.”
“We have a lot to figure out before that,” Forrest said. “There’s much more down there than initially meets the eye.”
Ivy wasn’t sure what he meant about that, but she understood a decision on the bunker would come later if they could work around it.
“We had another idea,” Ivy said, shifting the conversation. “What about a community garden on the back part of the lot?”
“That’s an interesting idea. How much land do you want to dedicate to that?”
“Think of this as the starter project.”
“Sounds like an idea of Shelly’s.”
Ivy leaned forward and put her palms on the table. “She’d like to teach people how to grow food they can eat, ranging from kids to retirees. It would be for people who want a hobby or those whose budget is constrained.”
“It’s a good idea,” Forrest said, clearly considering it. “Shelly knows what she’s doing. Her horticulture training isn’t wasted. She’s done wonders with the nearly dead landscaping that was here when you guys arrived.”
Ivy recalled what a mess the grounds were in. “A lot of what we serve here comes from her gardening efforts.”
“I’ll get the right people out to inspect the structural integrity and survey the lot again. I’ll have to readjust the estimate.”
“Do you have any idea of extra costs?”
“Not until we know what we’re dealing with. I’ll be as kind as possible, but I must pay my workers.”
“I understand. And you should have a profit. Lea Martin would insist.”
Forrest only shrugged. “When this project is finished, we’ll gain plenty of work from it.”
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving yet?” Ivy thought her brother’s wife might welcome the invitation. “We’re planning a feast here, and you’re all invited.”
“That’s a big invitation for all of us,” Forrest said. “Angela will be relieved, so please count us in, thanks. We’re expecting Coral and Summer to come home for the holiday.”
“I heard. Poppy is excited to see her sisters.”
“Rocky and Reed might eat twice their weight, so we’ll bring whatever you need.”
Ivy chuckled. His twin boys were hard workers. Rocky spent many days at sea working in research, while Reed burned up energy in construction.
He swung out from the table. “I have to check on Reed’s job site, but I’ll be in touch.”
Ivy showed him out, thinking about the extra work ahead to preserve the bunker. She was convinced it would be worth it from a historical perspective, but it wouldn’t be without challenges ahead.
Shelly sauntered into the kitchen. “A guest stopped me, asking questions about the gardens. How’s Forrest?”
“Working on figuring out the project.”
Poppy pushed open the door behind them. “Mom just texted me with a turkey and happy faces.”
“Wow, word travels fast.” Ivy laughed. “Everyone is coming for Thanksgiving. Family, friends, and guests are welcome.”
“We have a couple that booked a holiday here from Italy,” Poppy said. “I don’t think they know what kind of holiday Thanksgiving is. Can we call it the Harvest Feast of Thanksgiving?”
“That has a nice ring to it,” Ivy replied. “I’ll ask Diya to help us plan a menu.” She loved the idea of entertaining a lot of people, even though a few weeks later, they would have their annual Christmas and holiday open house for the community.
But first, they had to prepare for Halloween.
Just when she thought she’d have a chance to relax after the high summer season, the fall was turning out to be nearly as busy.