Chapter 24
24
I vy stood watching the first annual Summer Beach Bookfest at the old airfield, where she’d been setting up since sunrise. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of activity. The book festival and the final construction phase on the inn had kept Ivy’s mind off the issue of the dormant bank account that Andrew was working through. The Bookfest was even more important to Summer Beach now.
“Nervous?” Bennett asked. He handed her a cup of coffee from Mitch’s Java Beach booth.
“Grateful,” Ivy replied. “Look at all these people.”
“They’re here because of you,” Bennett said. “Your vision brought this entire event together.”
Ivy dipped her head. “I wasn’t the first to envision a library for Summer Beach.”
Bennett stared at her. “You called for a new library long before you found those plans, and you rallied your team to execute this event. Don’t diminish your efforts.”
“Did I just do that?” Ivy pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, my goodness, I did. Thanks for catching that. I warn Misty and Sunny about being too modest.”
She shook her head, realizing she’d just fallen into the trap of automatically minimizing her efforts. Modesty was one thing, but downplaying accomplishments was quite another. Many women of her generation and those before still had society’s old rules for women embedded in their subconscious minds.
And that was so last century.
Bennett put his arm across her shoulders. “You made this happen, sweetheart, despite lacking city council support.”
“Maybe someone ought to start a recall campaign of that short-sighted mayor.” Ivy grinned.
“I never want to come up against you in a popularity contest. You’d win, hands down.”
Ivy laughed, teasing him. “Better watch your back then.”
Raising her chin, she gazed over the throngs of book lovers with satisfaction. The old Seabreeze Shores Airfield was now a bustling hub of literary celebration.
Vendor tents and families populated the sunny expanse, but it hadn’t always looked this way. During Prohibition in the 1920s, mobster Tony Diamond built the airfield to smuggle booze into the states and onto gambling barges anchored off the coast beyond the legal line. Recently, Ivy and her family had been part of the effort to repurpose the former runways as bike trails and walking paths.
Today, the turnout exceeded even Ivy’s most optimistic projections. People lined up to pay a modest admission fee, and families spread blankets on grassy areas between booths where authors were signing books.
Bennett’s sister Kendra and her family had brought blankets and chairs. She and Bennett were staying with them while Reed’s crew was renovating their apartment, among the last of the units at the inn. Ivy was grateful to Bennett’s family. Kendra and Dave had made them feel so comfortable and welcome.
Poppy was navigating the happy crowd, directing volunteers. She gathered Ivy, Bennett, and Libby together. “It’s time to welcome everyone to the Bookfest.”
When she gave the signal, Ivy picked up a microphone and said, “Good morning, book lovers.” She waited a moment for the enthusiastic cheers to die down.
“Welcome to the inaugural Summer Beach Bookfest,” Ivy began, her voice carrying across the gathering. “Thank you for coming and supporting efforts to bring a library back to Summer Beach. As many of you know, the Ericksons were early settlers and built what is now the Seabreeze Inn. If Mrs. Erickson were here today, I know she would be pleased to see how her dream of bringing books and art to our community inspires us nearly a century later.”
She gestured to the colorful scene around them, where authors signed books, children explored Libby’s bookmobile, and people mobbed the Blind Date with a Book table of exquisitely wrapped literary surprises.
“This festival represents more than just a fundraiser for our future library. It’s about our community taking ownership of this effort.” Ivy paused, taking in the familiar faces around her. “Building a library may take years. It will require persistence, creativity, and your continued support. But today is proof that Summer Beach values the written word, the exchange of ideas, and the creation of spaces where everyone belongs.”
Applause rippled through the crowd, and she passed the microphone to Bennett, who added a few words about the city’s support of the new bookmobile service and introduced the city’s new librarian. Standing beside the mayor, Libby beamed.
After Bennett’s talk, several townspeople approached him. Ivy knew he’d be busy, so she strolled through the festival, enjoying the excitement. She stopped to chat with authors, admired children’s artwork inspired by favorite books, and helped an elderly couple find a shaded seating area.
“Hey, you,” Shelly called to her. “Great welcome speech.”
Ivy joined her in the children’s tent. “I’m thrilled with the turnout.”
Daisy sat in her sister’s arms, entranced by a hand-puppet show about baby barnyard animals.
“This is incredible,” Shelly said. “I’ve never seen her sit still for this long. Maybe I should whip up some sock puppets at home.”
“That’s easy to do. Kids often like simple toys the best. My girls loved playing with boxes and banging wooden spoons. Building a blanket fort was always popular.”
“Hey, babes.” Mitch appeared, balancing a tray of pastry samples from his Java Beach booth. He bent to kiss Shelly and Daisy on the cheeks.
Shelly grabbed a couple of cinnamon roll bites. “How’s business?”
“Better than expected,” he replied. “We’ll probably sell out before we make it to the silent auction or readathon. You guys sure planned a full schedule. Have you been by the auction booth?”
Curious now, Ivy craned her neck, spying her beach paintings displayed in the silent auction tent. “Any interest yet?”
Mitch nodded. “People are bidding up your seascape. It should fetch a good price.”
“How about your Java-for-a-Month donation?” Shelly asked.
“That one’s hot, too.” Mitch grinned at his joke. “See you all later.”
After Mitch moved on, Daisy returned her attention to the puppet show.
“Have you heard from your attorney lately?” Shelly asked, lowering her voice.
Ivy frowned, knowing Andrew had hit a rough patch. The bank account claims process had slowed during the last few weeks due to legal issues. “He’s in Zurich now on other business, so he will present the claim. We’re still hoping the process moves forward.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we continue doing what we’re doing right now,” Ivy replied. “Raising funds and building community support. Eventually, we will build a stunning library and museum complex for the town.”
“Look, Ives,” Shelly whispered. “I know those are amazing plans, but have you thought about scaling back? We could build a smaller library sooner. After all, what does Summer Beach really need?”
Ivy stared at Shelly. “Are you starting to doubt this now?”
“It’s just that you’re usually the practical one, and I’m the woo-woo, let’s-dream-it-big-and-they-will-come one.”
“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
Shelly shook her head with concern. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”
“Look around you,” Ivy said, gesturing. “People who might never have met are bonding through books. We don’t need an old bank account payout to make this dream a reality. Between this and other sources, we can do it.” She hoped her sister wouldn’t ask what other sources she had in mind, because she didn’t have any of the same magnitude.
Shelly blinked, taking this in. “You sound almost philosophical about potentially losing millions.”
“I’m being realistic,” Ivy said. “Even if Andrew produces a positive outcome, a library needs an annual operating budget. The initial funding would be transformative, of course. Either way, we will need Bookfest for a long time.”
Shelly nodded slowly. “Have you talked to Libby lately? She has so many ideas for the library. Like after-school programs, summer reading events, computer workshops, even a seed library that I volunteered to organize. People would love that.”
“She also mentioned a backpack program for students who can’t afford school supplies,” Ivy added. “The library would be a central hub for community needs.”
“And you’re okay with waiting on those services just to build a larger building? Is this about serving the community or pointing to a huge building so you can say, ‘I did that.’?”
Ivy wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but she had to concede that Shelly had a point. “Well, that’s an alternative to consider.”
“Look, I just want Daisy and other kids to have a library before they grow up. Like we did. All I’m saying is, it’s okay to compromise.”
She rested her hand on Shelly’s arm, acknowledging her insights. “I get it. Let’s talk about this later.”
Ivy chewed her lip as she walked back to the main staging area. Was this a vanity project for her? Maybe it was. Maybe she wanted to prove something.
But didn’t they all?
She worried about disappointing everyone if the dormant account funds fell through. She had already asked those who knew about this not to mention the possibility until funds arrived in Summer Beach.
However, she also realized that might never be. They needed another plan, too.
Ahead, volunteers were setting up rows of chairs for the readathon. Bennett was in conversation with an elderly man Ivy recognized as a retired professor from the community college.
Her husband was right, too. With or without a financial windfall, Summer Beach had to support its services.
Just then, her phone rang. It was Andrew. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to check in with you.” Andrew sighed deeply. “I wanted to wait until I had good news to report.”
Ivy clutched the phone, listening. However, a little voice in her mind had already told her all she needed to know.
Once again, she would have to start over.