Chapter 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 blogging about 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.
Vanz staggered in behind them carrying a folded playpen for Daisy. He looked sleepy and a little dejected.
Ivy could guess why. “I’m setting up a light breakfast here in the kitchen and in the dining room with muffins, granola, fruit, and yogurt. Who’s hungry?”
“Everyone, I’m sure. Especially this one.” She tapped Daisy’s nose. “I’ll set up the family table in here. Where are Poppy and Sunny?”
“Probably sleeping in or getting ready. They knew there wasn’t much to do for guests this morning.”
Ivy left her sister to it. She prepared the breakfast in the dining room for Caleb and the young Italian couple, who were eager to explore the beach today. Gilda rarely came down for breakfast, preferring to write late and sleep in.
After they all ate, Ivy carried food warmers into the ballroom, positioning electric food warming trays along the antique sideboards and long buffet tables they’d arranged as serving stations.
Morning light streamed through tall windows, illuminating the space where their guests would gather this evening.
Laughter spilled from the kitchen. Through the windows, she saw Bennett take off down the beach for his run.
The household was awake. Ivy loved this time of day before a holiday gathering. The preparations, the laughter, and the inevitable culinary misses that would need to be salvaged.
Minor, she hoped.
Shelly brought in a tray of miniature pumpkins she’d hollowed out to hold candles and small pots of marigolds in the golden colors of the season. “These came out better than I expected.”
Positioning the centerpieces on trivets, Shelly placed them on round tables draped with cream-colored tablecloths. She arranged burnt-orange burlap artfully around each centerpiece.
“I love how you wrapped golden twine around the pots,” Ivy said, admiring her sister’s handiwork. “Where did you leave Daisy?”
“She’s being spoiled by Vanz in the kitchen. Daisy makes him laugh, and he treats her like a doll. Until she has a meltdown, of course. Mitch can handle that. It’s his turn.”
Ivy enjoyed hearing about her sister’s approach to motherhood. She also suspected Vanz needed special attention today. She recalled how difficult it had been being away from home on holidays when she lived in Boston.
Ivy reached for a basket. On her morning walks, she had been collecting driftwood for decorating accents, along with shells, which she would return to the beach after the holiday.
Shelly adjusted an arrangement. “The kitchen smells amazing already.”
“It’s only beginning,” Ivy said, adding shells to the centerpiece arrangements. “Wait until Mitch’s turkeys go into the oven. He has a strict schedule for every dish.”
“I saw that. I’m staying out here where it’s safe.” Shelly slid copper chargers beneath white plates. Next, she arranged sunflowers in tall, vintage crystal vases she’d found in the old butler’s pantry for the buffet table. Satisfied, she paused and turned to Ivy.
“If you haven’t noticed, Vanz is a little sad today,” Shelly said.
“He talked to his mother yesterday, and she promised she would take a bus here, but he hasn’t heard from her.
None of us have. I’ve spoken to her on the phone, and I didn’t think she was like that.
But I’ve never met her, so I don’t know. ”
“That’s a shame, but we’ll take care of him today.”
Ivy returned to the kitchen to check on the cooking progress.
The room hummed with activity. Mitch rubbed one turkey with garlic and olive oil and basted another one in butter. Every surface had been transformed into a designated workstation with ingredients arranged in order.
Poppy had joined them and was slicing vegetables. Occasionally, she stirred cranberries simmering with orange zest on the stove. Vanz was plowing through the muffins, and Daisy was in her highchair, making a mess with granola and blueberries, but she was happy.
Mitch lifted his chin toward the new electric ovens. “Glad you added those. We couldn’t produce this meal with just the original vintage gas oven. These birds are too big to even fit in there.”
“Can we use that one for the bread and pies?” Ivy said.
Mitch glanced up. “Check the schedule. Every dish has its time slot. No jumping the line. The turkeys will cook long and slow.”
She glanced at the clock. “Has Sunny been down this morning? I thought she’d be up by now.”
Poppy chopped a potato with sudden vigor. “Maybe she’s sleeping in.”
Ivy frowned. “That’s not like her on a holiday. I should check on her. I hope she’s not sick.”
Just then, Daisy screamed and tried to escape the highchair.
“Oh no, sweetie,” Ivy said, hurrying to catch her.
Daisy had eaten the blueberries on her tray, but she wanted the ones that dropped onto the floor.
“Not those, little one.” Ivy gave her freshly washed berries, then swept up the rest on the floor.
“I’ll check on Sunny,” Poppy said.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Poppy quickly rinsed and dried her hands before she rushed out.
Caleb wandered into the kitchen. “Mind if I have breakfast in here? The other couple left, and it’s lonely in the dining room. It sounds like you’re having fun in here. Smells incredible already.”
Ivy looked up and smiled. “Sounds like you miss going home.”
“It’s hard to travel back for such a short holiday.”
Ivy placed another basket of spiced pumpkin muffins on the table. “Make yourself comfortable. We’re all family today. How is your search for clinic space going?”
“I’ve found an old house that will work for my veterinary office,” he replied. “I can move in before Christmas. I could live in a back room for now, but I’d like to find a different home soon.”
“I’m glad for you, even though we’ll miss you here.” Ivy thought Caleb would be a good addition to Summer Beach. She scrambled the eggs and sprinkled chives on them.
She served Caleb and then glanced at the time. “If you’ll excuse me, I should check on Poppy now. I think I’ve lost both the girls.”
Just then, the front door opened, and voices rang out in the foyer. Moments later, Sunny appeared in the kitchen doorway, cheeks flushed from the morning chill. Poppy was beside her, and behind them was a very familiar face.
“Surprise!” Sunny shouted, beaming.
“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!” Misty stepped forward, a worn backpack slung over one shoulder and her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She grinned and dropped her backpack.
“Misty?” Ivy gasped. “I thought you couldn’t make it.” She opened her arms wide with glee.
Misty fell into her mother’s arms. “My scenes wrapped early on set, which almost never happens. I called Sunny last night when I confirmed a flight. I wanted to surprise you.”
Ivy enveloped her eldest daughter in a tight embrace. She turned to Sunny with tears of joy in her eyes. “I thought you were still sleeping.”
Sunny gave her a mischievous smile. “I asked Poppy to cover for me while I shot off to the airport.”
“You knew?” Ivy asked, looking at Poppy.
Poppy held up her hands. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
Shelly raced in to see Misty, and even Daisy joined in the welcome.
“Perfect timing,” Mitch said. “There is plenty to eat.”