Poppy’s shoulders relaxed. “You did not, but that’s nice of you to say.”
“No, I’m quite sure I did. We probably ought to throw it away.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter because I finished it off while you were gone.”
“I hope no one was hurt.”
“Just my pride.”
“That can be mended,” Ivy said. “You can help me find another one in the butler’s pantry.” She led the way toward the storage and serving area off the kitchen. “I wonder why we still call this a butler’s pantry?” Ivy mused as she entered the long, narrow room. “I doubt if any actual butlers will ever darken this door again.”
Poppy smiled. “Thanks for not being upset, Aunt Ivy. I know it was your favorite.”
“You’re more favorite than that,” Ivy said, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand. “Now, let’s explore these cupboards and see what we have to choose from for the morning muffins.”
Ivy opened the tall cupboard doors that reached to the ceiling. Vintage crystal, china, and flatware had never been removed. The house had been used for charity events for years. Some pieces showed the wear while others looked as if they hadn’t been touched since Amelia left.
Poppy opened a cupboard. “This looks like the serving platter department. What about those dark pieces up at the top? I can’t tell what they’re made of.”
Ivy squinted at the top shelf. “Those are probably silver.” She grinned at Poppy. “Unbreakable, so let’s have a look. Could you bring the step ladder here and hold it for me?”
“On it,” Poppy said as she fetched the small ladder.
Ivy gathered the folds of her yellow sundress in one hand and climbed the ladder. “These are beautiful. Sterling silver, I would guess. Amelia only bought the best.” She reached for a rectangular piece that was rimmed with intricate scrollwork. Handles were fashioned from the same pattern.
“If Shelly were here, she’d probably be wondering how much we could get for them,” Poppy said.
“I know, but I like to keep as much intact in this old house as I can.” Standing on her tiptoes, Ivy grabbed the handle. “This is heavy. Can you grab it? I’ll pass it down to you.”
“I’m ready,” Poppy said.
Ivy slid out the tray and handed it to her niece. As she did, a small book that had been propped behind the platter fell face forward with a puff of dust. Ivy sneezed. “Hold on, I see something else. Nothing has been cleaned in years up here.”
Below her, Poppy put the silver platter on the counter. “Need a cleaning rag?”
Ivy reached for the book and slid it out. She blew dust from the top of the leather-bound book. “Definitely.” She tucked it under her arm and started down the ladder.
Poppy peered up at the shelves. “I can get up there and wipe it all down for you.”
“Only if you have some free time. And get Sunny to help you.” Ivy turned over the small volume. “This looks interesting.” She looked up at the top shelf. “Might want to check to see if anything else is hidden up there. You know how Amelia was.”
The old house had protected the former owner’s treasures well. From paintings stashed behind a brick wall that led to the lower level to crown jewels stitched inside of a doll in the trunk of the vintage Chevy, Amelia Erickson had been a master of concealment.
Carefully, Ivy thumbed through the yellowed pages of the slim volume. “It looks like a guest registry of some sort.”
Poppy peered over her shoulder. “Since it’s in the butler’s pantry, would it be a record of dinner guests? Although it seems weird that they would sign in.”
“People did things differently back then, especially among the upper classes. And having come from Europe, the Ericksons had more formal ways than in the States, even in their beach house. They had their standards to uphold.”
Poppy nodded. “It seems fussy in a way, but on the other hand, it would make regular dinners more special. Sort of like dressing for dinner. I’ve been reading a historical novel with characters changing clothes more times in a day than some people at the beach change in a week. I keep thinking about the laundry they had to do.”
“Wealthy people had staff for that,” Ivy said. She turned to the front page of the book and began to read. “The Literary Society of Summer Beach, Presided Over by Amelia Erickson.”
“I wonder what kind of books they were reading?”
“Let’s see.” Ivy turned the page. “Wow, look at this. The first one was Pride and Prejudice.”
“Oh, my gosh, they were reading Jane Austen?” Poppy squealed with delight. “I read that book in college. And did you see the movie? We were all in love with Mr. Darcy.”
“Tall, dark, and moody never goes out of style.” As Ivy said that, a funny thought struck her. In a similar fashion, Bennett had been her Mr. Darcy. “I saw the film, but I’ve never read the book.”
“You have to, Aunt Ivy. You’d love it. I read it in my English classics literature course. I think that book was written in the late 1700s.”
Ivy ran her hand over the faded ink with reverence. “That sounds about right.”
“So Amelia and her friends were reading the classics, too.”
“It’s interesting to think of it that way, isn’t it?” Ivy read through the list of signatures neatly entered on the thick ivory paper. “Josefina Osuna. Vana Spencer. Allison Margolese. Karin Becker. Marta Mueller.” She paused and looked up. “What a treasure this is.”
“I wonder why she hid it in the cabinet?” Poppy asked.
“It might have been to protect some of the attendants, or maybe it was due to her advancing Alzheimer’s disease. We’ll never know.”
Poppy’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Now I can’t wait to clean all the cupboards. Maybe we’ll find more of Amelia’s hidden treasures.”
Ivy laughed at that. “Shelly is always looking for a hidden pot of gold. Maybe this time you’ll find it, although I doubt it. But if you do, we still need that roof repaired.” She shook her head. There would be time for that later. “Come on, let’s clean up these items before today’s guests arrive.”
“How do we clean this silver?” Poppy held up the tarnished platter.
Ivy inspected the old piece. It was heavily oxidized and discolored, and her first thought was to call her mother. But of course, Carlotta was a thousand miles away on board the boat with their father. And no doubt having a wonderful time. Ivy wouldn’t disturb her for this.
“I don’t know if we can restore it to its former magnificence,” Ivy said. “However, I seem to recall that your grandmother once used a solution of vinegar and baking soda in a sink full of water. I’m not sure if that’s entirely correct, but it’s worth a try.”
“We could ask Auntie Google,” Poppy offered.
“I suppose we could, but I’m pretty sure of the vinegar. Mom uses that a lot.”
“Like we do for the windows in this place.”
“It sure saves on cleaning supplies,” Ivy said, smiling. Back then, with a young, growing family, Carlotta had learned to cut corners. Even today, Ivy preferred many of her mother’s old methods honed long before store-bought versions arrived on grocery shelves. Carlotta had saved money so that she and Sterling could start their import business.