“Write that down,” Shelly said. “It’s a shame we can’t decorate much. I got four of the largest poinsettias, but they’re practically lost in this big house. I saw some amazing Christmas trees, too.”
Ivy sighed. “No budget, no decorations. Maybe next year.”
“I understand.” Shelly lowered her eyes.
“However…” A thought occurred to Ivy, and she drummed her fingers on the counter. “Remember the photos we saw of the parties that Amelia and Gustav Erickson held here? They used to decorate lavishly back then. Didn’t we see some photos of Christmas parties?”
Shelly nodded. “I wonder what happened to all those decorations. We didn’t find any on the lower level.”
“Or the attic,” Ivy said. “It’s not as if she would have hidden those either. I mean, what value could they possibly have?”
Shelly laughed. “Strings of rubies and emeralds?”
“Just decorations, I’m sure.”
Suddenly, a male voice rang out. “Anyone here? Oh, hello. The door was open. I was wondering if you have any vacancies.”
Startled, Ivy swung around to face a slim young man clad in faded jeans and a denim jacket. A premature shock of white hair threaded through longish, dark hair brushed back from a pleasant, unlined face. Thirty-ish, Ivy guessed.
“Oh, yes,” Ivy said. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in.” They had a bell at the front desk, but Shelly’s music must have drowned out the bell. “How did you hear about us?”
“From Mitch at Java Beach. He said the Seabreeze Inn has a lot going on.” The man glanced around. “Kind of quiet at the moment.”
“Just a holiday lull,” Shelly said, turning down the music. “We have a wine and tea event every evening in the library, yoga and beach walks in the morning, and Ivy can give you painting lessons if you like.”
The man looked between the two of them and inclined his head. “You’re sisters?”
“That’s right,” Ivy said. She and Shelly introduced themselves, and Ivy asked his name.
“People call me Nick Snow,” he said.
“Because that’s your name, I hope,” Shelly said.
Ivy ignored Shelly and extended her hand. “Glad to meet you, Nick. Any friend of Mitch’s is welcome here. How long would you like to stay?”
“Through Christmas,” Nick replied. “If you have the room, of course.”
“Not a problem,” Ivy said. “You can park your car around back in the car court.”
He glanced out the window. “That’s very kind, but I don’t have a car.” He paused, inhaling. “Smells delicious in here, as if Christmas arrived early.”
“That’s our special Mexican hot chocolate,” Ivy said. “Our mother’s recipe with cinnamon and chili powder, though it’s not too spicy, just warming. Would you like a cup?”
“I would be very grateful for that,” Nick said politely.
His tone held a level of gratitude that Ivy hadn’t expected. “Have you had breakfast? I can make something for you.” This morning, she had cleared the breakfast spread in the dining room right after Bennett, Imani, and Jamir left. Gilda seldom ate breakfast, but if she did, she knew where everything was. Like family.
A smile spread across Nick’s face. “I’d like that very much, thank you.”
“We have eggs and bacon, yogurt, berries, bagels, and muffins,” Ivy said. “What would you like?”
“That all sounds delicious,” Nick said with a slight bow of his head. “But don’t trouble yourself with bacon.”
Shelly eased off the stool. “While Ivy is making breakfast, I can get you checked in and show you upstairs to your room.”
“I’d be very grateful for that, thank you.”
As Shelly walked to the kitchen door, she said, “I can also put your credit card on file.”
“I don’t have one on me,” Nick said easily. “But I will make arrangements for payment.”
Shelly shot a look at Ivy.
“That’s fine,” Ivy said after a moment of consideration. Mitch had referred Nick, and it wasn’t as if they had other guests waiting for rooms. They had never been stiffed by a guest before. She wasn’t worried.
“I can help you with your luggage,” Shelly said.
“I have all I need right here,” Nick said, hitching up a strap on his worn backpack. “And I wouldn’t dream of asking a woman for help with luggage.”
“We’re pretty modern around here.” Shelly grinned. “You’re traveling kind of light for almost a month here.”
Ivy laughed. “He’s a guy, Shells. And students backpack for months.” As she brought out eggs from Gertie, she glanced back at Nick. Even though it was chilly out this morning, he wore leather sandals. However, that wasn’t surprising in a beach community, where people dressed casually every day. He had that natural, slightly scruffy beach look.
“Those are fine old refrigerators,” Nick said, lifting his chin toward the pair. “But one of them is struggling.”
“That would be Gertie,” Ivy said, placing the eggs on the counter.
“Do you mind if I have a look?” Nick stepped closer. “Beautiful shade of turquoise, isn’t she? A reflection of the sea.” He glanced out the window. “A peaceful sleep is ever there, beneath the dark blue waves.”
“Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote that.” Ivy inclined her head, impressed at his grasp of poetry. One couldn’t live in Boston as long as she had and not know the work of one of Massachusetts’s foremost writers. She tapped a finger to her chin. Nick had an interesting way of expressing himself. She wondered if he was a writer or an English major, or maybe even a teacher.
“I was going to call someone to service the fridge,” Ivy said. “But if you have any experience in refrigerator repair, have at it.” What could it hurt?
“Perhaps.” Nick approached Gertie, put his hands on the old refrigerator, and leaned in as if he were a physician listening to its heartbeat. “She has been working very hard this past week.”
“She keeps things colder than her partner Gert there,” Ivy said, motioning to the other unit.
“Hmm.” Nick shifted his hands and closed his eyes for a few moments.
Shelly arched a brow and threw a look at Ivy.
Presently, Gertie’s rumbling noise slowed, and the old refrigerator settled back to its usual low hum. A satisfied smile curved Nick’s lips, and he patted the refrigerator case.
“What did you just do?” Shelly asked as her eyebrows shot up in an incredulous look. “It looked like you used some kind of energy healing on our fridge. Like Reiki for household appliances.”
Nick modestly shrugged a shoulder. “I have a way with gadgets. Probably just a loose wire in there. Must have shifted back into place or something.”
Ivy smiled. “Whatever you did, I’m grateful. You’ve certainly earned my best breakfast.”
Nick gazed around the kitchen. “This kitchen looks like it’s pretty original.”
“We think the owner updated it in the 1950s or early 1960s.”