for you.”
“I’m Ivy. I run the Seabreeze Inn with my sister.” She placed her bundle on the counter next to the woman’s coffee cup, noticing that it was from Java Beach. She probably knew Mitch, like most people in town.
“Oh, everyone knows who you girls are,” Louise said lightly.
“I suppose new folks stand out.”
Louise chuckled. “Ones like you sure do.”
Ivy wasn’t sure what the woman meant or how to respond to that, so she let the comment go. “We just found these stored in the house, and they’re pretty dusty. Also very old. Possibly Edwardian.”
Louise inspected the garments. “You’re probably close. This style is from the 1920s at the latest. A hundred years old, but very well made.” She turned back a seam to show Ivy. “You don’t see this level of hand-finishing much anymore. I’ll take extra care by hand with these. They’ll be ready in a few days.” A smile crossed her face. “This could be a beautiful wedding outfit. Maybe for you or Shelly soon?”
The comment caught Ivy off guard. She hadn’t mentioned Shelly’s name. Still, this was typical for Summer Beach. Once Bennett had shared their engagement with Nan at City Hall and Mitch had told Darla, their neighbor, news of their engagements had circulated through the town like a beach boomerang.
Quickly, Ivy recovered and smiled. “It’s too small for me and too short for Shelly.”
“Shelly is a lot taller than you,” Louise agreed. “With those long legs, her skirts are awfully short.”
That’s an odd thing to say, Ivy thought, especially in a beach town where visitors wore the skimpiest of bikinis on the beach. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with how Shelly dressed, but Louise was very direct.
Again, Ivy ignored the comment and went on. “This might fit one of our nieces.”
“It’s quite a lovely set,” Louise said, nodding. Lowering her voice, she added, “I want you to know I’m on your side. I wish you all the luck with our mayor. He’s quite the catch.”
Ivy inclined her head. “Excuse me, but what do you mean by on my side?”
The woman’s ruddy forehead creased. “I’m not one to gossip, but you know how small towns are. Everyone has an opinion about things that are none of their business. They don’t mean any harm, though.”
“No, of course not,” Ivy said slowly. But words could have an impact.
Louise went on as she inspected the garments. “Many folks are pleased with the work you’ve done on the old Las Brisas del Mar estate. And that art show you put on brought in a lot of new visitors to the community. Summer Beach is lucky to have you; that’s what I always tell them, despite what they might say.”
“And we’re happy to be part of Summer Beach,” Ivy ventured. A strange feeling prickled her neck, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had been said about them.
Louise patted the clothes. “Don’t worry yourself about it. I’m sure everything will work out between Mitch and your sister, too. Yes, ma’am, I’m on both your sides.”
“I sure appreciate that,” Ivy said, somewhat awkwardly. What else could she say? If she seemed interested, that would only fuel more gossip.
As Ivy walked back to the Jeep, she tried to shake off Louise’s comments. She certainly wouldn’t worry Shelly with such trivial matters.
“Hey, Ivy.” Her sister waved at her from across the street. A breeze lifted the fluttery skirt of Shelly’s sundress, and she tugged it down. “Can you help me with these plants?”
Maybe a little short, Ivy conceded, but that was only because their mother was shorter. Besides, Shelly had great legs. It wasn’t as if her sister was trying to be sexy. Shelly had a natural outdoors look and energy, and she seldom wore any makeup other than lip gloss and a touch of blush. Shelly would rather be working in the garden than primping in front of a mirror.
Ivy attributed the woman’s comment to idle gossip and hurried across the street where Shelly stood with two sickly potted palms. A few thin fronds stuck out at awkward angles.
“The cobbler was throwing these out, so I offered to take them home,” Shelly said. “They’ve almost been killed with kindness. Too much water, too much sun. I stripped off the dead stuff, and I’m pretty sure I can nurse them back to health.” She pointed to a front window flooded with direct sunlight. “They got burned in that spot. This type of palm likes filtered light.”
“I’ll get this one,” Ivy said,