She put her arm around Darla’s shoulders. “I’d be honored. Let’s do this.”
Darla leaned into Ivy. “You’re a good egg after all.”
Ivy laughed, and the two women made their way to Darla’s closet.
After Ivy had helped Darla choose just the right dress to complement her blue eyes and hair, she walked back to the inn. Everyone was buzzing around, getting ready for the wedding. Ivy climbed the stairs and started toward her room.
As she passed Gilda’s room, the door swung open. “I heard your footsteps,” Gilda said. “Pixie always knows it’s you, too. Could I ask for your advice on what to wear to the wedding?”
“Sure,” Ivy said, stepping inside the room.
Gilda brought out three miniature dog outfits. “The pink lace, the purple glitter, or the white organza?”
Ivy chuckled. “I think the organza is lovely for a wedding.”
“But only the bride is supposed to wear white. The pink lace must be altered to fit Pixie’s svelte torso, and the purple is a little loud, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. I’m sure my sister won’t mind if Pixie is in white.” While Shelly and Pixie had gotten off to a challenging beginning, their relationship had improved.
“The organza it is, then,” Gilda said, ruffling her hot pink hair. “A good choice for a spring wedding. She picked it out, but she’s never worn it.” Gilda opened a drawer full of dog sweaters and outfits and tucked in the other two dresses.
Ivy was amused. “Did you say Pixie chose it?”
Gilda placed the frilly doggie-dress on the dresser. “I get catalogs in the mail, and Pixie taps on outfits she likes. Don’t you, my little sweetikums?” She rubbed her nose against Pixie’s. “She’ll look fabulous.”
“As long as she’s not wearing any hot gemstones. Pixie can be a little rascal,” Ivy added, scratching the Chihuahua behind the ears.
Gilda’s eyes brightened. “Why, that gives me an idea…”
“I’ll see you at the ceremony.” Ivy didn’t have time to hear the rest. However, after leaving Gilda’s room, she immediately returned to her bedroom and tucked away her mother’s jewelry—just in case Pixie sneaked out and managed to wedge her way through the door.
Now, after having served as stylist to Darla and Pixie, Ivy made her way to the terrace, where her nephews were arranging tables. Poppy and Sunny followed behind them, draping tablecloths and anchoring the fabric with clips and Shelly’s collection of weathered beach accents, including seashells and driftwood. They placed ivory candles in vintage hurricane glass holders and scattered rose and turquoise beach glass tumbled smooth by waves.
“We’ll drape the flower runners that Shelly created down the center of the tables,” Poppy said, showing Ivy what they’d accomplished. “Imani is going to help us with the flowers, too. With the candles lit, it’s going to be gorgeous. I’m so glad we have a professional photographer coming.”
Misty stepped outside beside Ivy. “I’ll make sure she takes photos you can use to market the inn as a venue for weddings, Mom.”
“I hope not all the weddings turn out like the York’s,” Ivy said. “I can take only so many Eleanors of the world.” She glanced at her watch. “Brother Rip will be here in about three hours. We’ll want to get ready before Shelly returns so we can help her with her dress and hair.”
“Nana said the rest of the family will be arriving soon,” Misty said. “Even Elena is driving in from Los Angeles. She has an employee she trusts to watch the jewelry boutique now. Will Mitch’s family be able to come?”
Ivy realized Misty didn’t know about Mitch’s family. “He doesn’t have any family, honey. That’s why we need to welcome him into the Bay family with open arms.”
As Ivy and Misty talked about the outdoor seating arrangements taking shape, a voice rang out.
“Hello, I’m here with the cake.” A woman wearing a pink T-shirt emblazoned with That Takes the Cake, waved.
“Oh my gosh, I forgot about the wedding cake,” Ivy said. She and Misty went to meet the woman. Ivy told her about the change of wedding plans.
“Not the first time,” the woman said, glancing at the order slip she held in her hand. “I’ll assemble it here and put on the finishing touches. You were going to decorate it with flowers, right?”
“Sure, we can do that,” Ivy said, wondering what Shelly had planned. “Maybe not as well as Shelly, but she’s having a massage right now. The last thing she needs to spend her precious time doing today is decorating her cake.”
“I would stay and help,