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“Danny, get up, won’t you?” Greta swatted Danny’s shoulder. “You’re done with economics for today, anyway.”
Danny laughed and jumped out of his chair, bringing his laptop with him.
“That’s for you, Anna.” Greta pointed.
Anna did as her grandmother said, perching in the chair at the kitchen table. Greta then hunted through a large jar and produced a chocolate chip cookie, which she placed in front of Anna.
“Nobody else is allowed to destroy their appetite,” Greta explained. “Only you. And only today.”
Anna laughed and took a delicate bite from the chocolate chip cookie, which immediately melted in her mouth. “They’re incredible, Grandma.”
Greta returned to the stove and smiled to herself, as though confident that if you just gave someone enough soul-affirming food, they could get through anything.
“Now, Anna. Tell me. Your mother said you traveled here with a girlfriend of yours?”
Anna took another bite of the cookie and considered how to explain the Eloise of it all. “By chance, I met a woman heading to Nantucket.”
Greta shot Anna a strange glance. “By chance?”
“I was in Ohio for Dean’s funeral,” Anna said, her voice skipping at Dean’s name. “At a diner, I was having a very hard time, and a woman took pity on me.”
“And she was heading to Nantucket?” Greta looked flabbergasted.
“Yes,” Anna explained.
“You hitchhiked,” Aunt Ella said, snapping her fingers. “I remember those days.”
“Don’t you dare make her think that’s the right way to live,” Greta said to Ella.
To this, Aunt Ella winked knowingly, then said, “You shouldn’t have done that, Anna.” Her smile told Anna she was teasing.
Anna took another bite of chocolate chip cookie as Greta switched her weight at the stovetop. It seemed she’d cooked another Greta Copperfield classic— chicken a la orange. Had Anna not been devastated and very far outside of herself, she might have been hungry for it.
“It doesn’t matter now, Grandma,” Anna said quietly. “I made it here in one piece.”
Greta sighed and took a drink from her water glass. “We’ve been so worried about you, Anna.”
Anna stared at her cookie, not wanting to see the tremendous worry and sorrow across her grandmother’s face. Only a few months ago, Grandma Greta had stuffed Dean with French cooking, with cookies and cakes, and he’d laughed about gaining seven pounds on a single trip. “Your grandmother wanted to fatten me up and serve me for Christmas dinner,” he’d joked.
“Tell me about this person,” Greta said. “The woman who picked you up from some diner in Ohio. What is she doing on Nantucket?”
“She was born here,” Anna said.
“Wow.” Ella’s eyes widened. “That’s lucky. Not many people are born here.”
“And she’s around your age?” Greta asked.
Heat swelled across Anna’s cheeks. “She’s a bit older than me.”
“How much older?” Greta asked.
“I think she said she’s sixty-five.”
Greta’s eyes widened. “You hitchhiked with a sixty-five-year-old woman all the way from Ohio?”
Anna turned to look at Ivy at the kitchen table beside her, but Ivy was focused on her phone and seemed unwilling to save Anna from Greta’s barrage of questions. Aunt Alana breezed in and out of the kitchen, fetching wine as she chatted to Julia in the dining room.
“But she hasn’t lived here since she was a lot younger,” Anna explained. “She’s been in Indiana.”
