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ChapterTwenty
Fourth of July was a Monday that year. It extended the long weekend blissfully into the next week, calling for multiple-day barbecues, bonfire parties, sailing expeditions, and long days along the beach, reveling in the gorgeous July sunlight. Lucky for Alana, her tiny theater troupe was committed toNantucket Dreamsand appeared at The Copperfield House for dress rehearsals on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, eager to push to the limit of their potential. Had Alana been their age, she might have made one excuse or another to sneak out and meet her friends at a bonfire party instead.
Still, there was a sense that the play meant as much to the teenage girls as it did to Alana. They all clung to it, grateful for something else to think about besides world-famous divorce cases or how many calories were in a croissant.
On the morning of the Fourth of July, Alana rushed downstairs in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt that read NANTUCKET HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 1995. Greta brewed a pot of coffee, smiling, her cheeks sun-kissed from long beach walks.
“There she is. The director, extraordinaire,” Greta sang.
Alana blushed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “We couldn’t have done it without the source material.”
Greta waved a hand. “I wrote that play decades ago. I hardly remember the woman I was then.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Alana told her mother, lifting the glass coffee pot and pouring herself a mug. “You can feel your heart and soul in every word.”
Greta’s cheeks burned crimson. She sipped her own mug of coffee, preparing to speak. But at that moment, a knock rang out from the front door.
“I’ll grab it,” Alana said, heading for the foyer.
When she opened it, she peered out at a short and stocky middle-aged man with a terrible sunburn on the top of his forehead. He wore an all-brown outfit, like a mailman’s. She’d never seen him before in her life.
“Can I help you?”
The man gripped a manila envelope. Her initial thought was that Jeremy decided to send important paperwork for Dad’s court case!He’s decided to forgive, forget, and move forward. He’s decided to help us.
But that illusion was soon shattered.
“Am I speaking to Alana Copperfield Tarkin?” the man asked.
“You are.”
The man huffed, as though he’d walked a great distance. “My apologies, Mrs. Tarkin. The plan was to serve these to you on Friday, but I got held up. Family responsibilities. Holiday weekend, I’m sure you understand.” He shoved the folder forward, forcing it into her right hand, even though it hung down at her side. “You’ve just been served divorce papers by Asher Tarkin.”
The man then turned on his dirty tennis shoe and sauntered off the porch, as though he hadn’t just delivered a blow Alana would feel for the rest of her life. She blinked down at the envelope and peered at the very top of the pages within.
IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK
Plaintiff: Asher Tarkin
Vs.
Defendant: Alana Copperfield
COMPLAINT FOR DIVORCE 3301(c)
Alana’s arms and legs began to shake violently. In the distance, the Nantucket High School marching band began to warm up for the Fourth of July Festival parade. The music was by John Philips Sousa, overly confident and joyous. It felt like an assault to the tremendous emotion in Alana’s heart.
“Honey? Who was that?” Greta called from the kitchen.
Alana slunk back into The Copperfield House like an injured animal. Greta entered the living room through the shadows, her gorgeous face crumbling.
“What is that?”
Alana handed over the envelope as she fell back on the couch, cupping her knees. Rationally speaking, she’d known this was coming her way. Already via tabloids and even social media posts, she’d witnessed three of Asher’s new girlfriends across a variety of beaches, cities, and desert landscapes. Probably, divorcing her felt like an afterthought to him because he’d already moved on so quickly. Like asking someone else to water your plants when you’d already left for vacation.
“Well, this is just ridiculous,” Greta said.
Julia appeared on the landing in a red dress, the waist cinched and the skirt flowing along her knees. She took one look at Alana and cried, “What happened?”
