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Anna tilted her head to peer at the newspaper, which spoke about the upcoming events surrounding the Daffodil Festival, including a parade with antique vehicles. Already, she had a sense she would be locked in her room whatever day that occurred, nursing her wounds.
But then, she saw something surprising.
“Can I see that photograph?” Anna pointed to the right-hand page of the newspaper, where a picture of a woman in full color stood in downtown Nantucket with a daffodil in her hands. Even from upside down, Anna could see that the woman wore a pair of aged overalls and that her gray locks were wild, untamed, and impossibly beautiful.
Bernard shifted the newspaper to the side so that Anna could see the photo in full view. Against the darkness in her heart, she managed a smile.
“That’s Eloise,” Anna said simply. “She drove me here from Ohio.”
Bernard laughed. “No kidding?” He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and peered down at the small print, where he read, “It just says, ‘A Nantucket tourist enjoys the early days of the Nantucket Daffodil Festival.’”
“I suppose that’s true, in a way. Although Eloise was born on Nantucket,” Anna explained. “I spent a few days with her, but I never thought to take her phone number.”
“Grief does funny things to memory,” Bernard said simply. “Maybe you can track her down. Will she be on the island long?”
“I don’t know,” Anna said. “She’s a woman of many mysteries.”
“Sounds interesting,” Bernard said. “It’s rare that we have many mysteries here on Nantucket.”
“What mysteries?” Greta’s voice streamed through the hallways and entered the kitchen, and a moment later, the rest of her came with it— smiling, red-cheeked, and carrying several empty mugs, which she’d procured from her writing desk.
“Morning, Grandma! How’s the writing going?” Anna brightened her voice as much as she could, grateful to sound a bit more like herself.
“Not bad. Not particularly good, either.” Greta placed the mugs next to the kitchen sink and eyed Bernard, Anna, and the newspaper in front of them. “Now, what mystery are you two solving? Is this a Sherlock Holmes and Watson situation?”
“If it is, I’d reckon that Anna is the Holmes in this situation, and I’m only a Watson,” Bernard said.
Anna gestured vaguely toward the photograph. “The woman who drove me out to Nantucket is in the newspaper.”
Greta’s face lost its curiosity, but she did step toward the paper to peer at the photograph. A split-second later, she lurched as close as she could to it, staring at the face as though it would jump out and bite her.
“What did you say your friend’s name was again?” Greta sounded breathless.
“Eloise,” Anna said simply.
Greta lifted her chin and gaped at Anna, flabbergasted. “Eloise? Eloise from Indiana?”
“But she was born here,” Anna reminded Greta. Her heart skipped a beat at the ferocity in Greta’s eyes. “Did you know her before she left? I think she’s about five years younger than you, so I figured it wasn’t likely.”
Greta turned toward the kitchen counter and placed her hand over her mouth. She looked on the verge of falling apart. Panicked, Anna hurried to her feet and placed her hand on Greta’s shoulder. Something was very, very wrong. Greta gasped for breath, and then she dropped her hand from her mouth and whispered, “Do you know how to get a hold of her?”
Anna shook her head. “No. I didn’t get her number.”
“Do you know where she’s staying, then?”
Anna winced. This was clearly a life-or-death situation for Greta. Why hadn’t she thought to get any relevant information from Eloise? Then again, she couldn’t have anticipated this.
“She said she had a place somewhere,” Anna explained. “I didn’t pry.”
Finally, Greta raised her chin so that Anna could see her blotchy red eyes. Her lower lip quivered slightly as she said, “Will you help me find her?”
“Grandma, who is Eloise?” Anna stuttered.
Several tears rolled from Greta’s eyes. Anna’s heart broke with each of them.
“Just tell me you’ll help me,” Greta breathed. “Tell me we’ll find her before it’s too late.”
Anna squeezed Greta’s hand, for once grateful that she could comfort someone else rather than receiving all the comforting. She didn’t understand what Greta was so upset about, but it was clearly enormous, the sort of thing she couldn’t carry alone.
