she is growing, but Darla ignores her. Shelly leaves produce on Darla’s doorstep.”
“If Darla takes Shelly’s offerings inside, then there’s hope. If Shelly involved Darla in the wedding plans, it might help.”
Ivy wondered about that. That could work, but then again, it might turn into a disaster.
When Ivy returned to her car, she lowered the convertible top on the old red-and-white 1950s Chevy. She loved driving it on mild sunny days. By the time she arrived at the Starfish Café to meet Megan, the crisp sea breeze had cleared her mind and lifted her spirits. As Shelly often said, there was nothing like a good dose of negative ions from the ocean to soothe the soul.
She parked the car in the shade of the old 1930s house that had been converted to a restaurant, although most of the seating was outside. Ivy saw Megan seated mid-way down the cantilevered hillside with decks facing the sea. Ivy started on the path that crisscrossed the slope. Old-fashioned rose bushes rambled along the path, perfuming the air with their sweet scents. Spotting Megan’s short, wavy blond hair, Ivy made her way toward the young filmmaker.
Megan greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. “I can hardly wait to see what you’ve found.”
“I’ve been dying to show it to you,” Ivy said.
After they ordered the homemade carrot ginger soup and wilted spinach and bacon salads, Ivy brought out the book. She slid it out of a protective fabric case she’d put it in and opened the cover.
Megan’s eyes grew wide when she saw the swatches stitched to the pages. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Where did you find it?”
Ivy told her the story about the discovery. “But there’s more, and I thought you might like to see this.” She slid out the old photo of Amelia and Josef. “It looks like Amelia might have had another marriage before Gustav.”
Megan studied the photo. “This adds a new perspective on Amelia Erickson. Would you mind if I snapped a few photos of this photo and the book? I’m still conducting research, and I’ll be happy to have this text translated for you.”
“That would be wonderful. I’d love to know what Amelia’s notes say.” Ivy was curious to read the writings of Amelia as a teen or young woman.
As they ate, Ivy thought about Amelia and this latest discovery. While the wedding ensemble and the trousseau journal weren’t as spectacular as their initial finds in the house, they were more personal. Other discoveries reflected Amelia’s exterior life and the important work she had done in her life, but this little book might help Ivy understand what motived Amelia. Even then, she might never know the woman’s whole story or what motivated her to act as she did.
After lunch, Megan promised to call when she received the translations, and Ivy wished her well and returned to her car.
The next day after all the guests were served at breakfast, Ivy and Shelly gathered on the veranda with Poppy to coordinate the York wedding. Shelly had installed a bell at the front desk that would ring in the kitchen and outside. They would hear if anyone came in, although they weren’t expecting any new guests until the afternoon.
“We need room to stage everything for Rachel’s wedding,” Ivy said. “I thought about the lower level, but we’d have to carry everything up and down the stairs. We’ll outgrow the kitchen and butler’s pantry pretty fast. On the day of the event, we’ll work in the ballroom, but I’d like to keep the area nice for guests until then. Any ideas?”
Shelly thought for a moment. “If I move the morning yoga classes poolside, I’ll have room and the light I need on the enclosed porch to work with the flowers and decorative accessories. The mornings have grown warmer these last couple of weeks, so I think guests will like being outdoors.”
“Good,” Ivy said. “I can also put away my paints and set up another table if you need room to work on accessories.”
Poppy was making notes. “We haven’t much time. Is Eleanor expecting us to provide the guest book, place cards, and menus at each place setting?”
“I’ll ask, but the answer is probably yes,” Ivy said. “I’ve arranged for the cake—Shelly, she wants flowers on that, too—and I’ve asked Marina to cater the dinner.” Her friend ran the Coral Cafe on the beach, and Ivy was glad to give her the business. Having lived in San Francisco until recently, Marina was