AllFreeNovel
Share Us
To Anna’s surprise, Harriet wrote back within ten minutes.
Anna,
Thank you for reaching out! I would be happy to chat all things daffodils, Nantucket, and parades. You’ve caught me at a busy time, but I always have time for the press. You make our festivals more successful every single year.
Why don’t we meet a few hours before the parade on Saturday? I have thirty minutes before I have to race off and press “play” on the day’s festivities.
Best,
Harriet
Anna was surprised to watch herself type a response back quickly, as though she wasn’t as frightened as she felt. As she crafted the email, she sat up straighter on her bed and felt her mind purr with insight— as though this simple email was able to break through the cloud of grief and let a bit of sunshine in. It lasted only a moment, but it was truly invigorating.
On the morning of the Daffodil Festival Parade, Anna woke up early, jumped in the shower, shaved her legs for the first time in days, conditioned her hair, and then stepped out to dry off and change into an outfit worthy of a travel writer’s career. As she dried her hair and shimmied a brush through her tangles, she smiled softly at herself, remembering all the other hundreds of times she’d performed this very action long before her heart had ever been broken so profoundly.
Downstairs, Anna poured herself a mug of coffee and chatted with Aunt Ella and Aunt Alana about her upcoming interview, which she’d spent the evening prepping for.
“You seem really prepared,” Aunt Ella said. “So many music journalists who interviewed Will and I over the years had no idea who we were. They just made it up as they went along.”
“That’s crazy. Your band has always been huge,” Anna said.
Ella shrugged. “Indie rock isn’t for everyone.”
“I remember once when Asher was being interviewed for some art magazine in Hong Kong,” Alana said, speaking of her ex-husband. “The journalist got his name wrong halfway through, and Asher threw his hat at him. This was before Asher got his hair plugs, so he wore a hat everywhere.” Alana wrinkled her nose at the memory of her tortured artist ex, then laughed. “I don’t know what to do with all these memories of this horrible man. Do you think I can have them deleted from my memory?”
Aunt Alana shook her head, having gone too far in a separate direction, then said, “Anyway. I assure you that your interview will go well because you’re a well-qualified, empathetic human being with many good questions and good things to say. That’s that.”
Anna couldn’t help but smile at the whirling nature of Aunt Alana’s mind. “Thank you for saying that,” she said. “I think it really helped.”
Anna took one of The Copperfield House’s bicycles downtown to meet Harriet Thornburg at a little coffee shop that sold lemon bars and brownies in a gleaming glass case. Anna sat with a coffee and a lemon bar and watched the door nervously, counting the seconds. Harriet was late.
But a moment later, a forty-something woman with black hair and dancing blue eyes burst through the door. Her black hair was a stream behind her, and her gait was frantic, as though she’d spent the better part of the morning putting one fire out after the next.
“Anna!” Harriet greeted Anna immediately. “I recognize you from your website. I hope you don’t mind that I did a bit of snooping.”
Anna stood, immediately warmed by the generosity of this person. “Thank you for meeting me today.”
Harriet waved a hand and then spoke to the woman behind the counter to order a cappuccino and a croissant. She then collapsed on the other side of Anna’s table and puffed out her cheeks. “It’s been quite a day.”
“And it’s not even nine-thirty,” Anna joked.
Harriet nodded and removed her sunglasses from the top of her head. “All right, Anna. You have my undivided attention for the next…” She then whipped up her wrist to check the time on her watch. “Twenty-eight minutes and twenty-two seconds.”
Anna laughed and pulled out her pad of paper, upon which she’d scribed several interview questions. She then waved her phone as she asked, “I hope you don’t mind if I record this?”
“Not at all,” Harriet said. “Go for it.”
Anna pressed RECORD and set up her first several questions, which asked how Harriet had gotten involved in the Nantucket Daffodil Festival, what her goals for the festival were, and so on.
Harriet answered thoughtfully and brightly, saying, “I was born right here in Nantucket, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s heaven on earth. Since I was a girl, I’ve worked to build a better, healthier, and more open community here in Nantucket to ensure that every single member of our community knows how special they are. I know that sounds a bit naive, a bit childish, but I truly believe in it. There’s a very good heart at the core of the Nantucket community, one that I see beating very brightly on the day of the Daffodil Festival Parade. Which, as you know, is today.” Harriet smiled.
Harriet went on to explain the various functions and activities that surrounded the Nantucket Daffodil Festival, along with the most important vintage cars to watch out for during the festival parade. Although Anna knew, in many ways, that this was a “puff piece,” she found herself wrapped up in Harriet’s answers, finding depth to the story where many wouldn’t have.
More than anything, Anna found that, throughout the interview with Harriet, she hardly thought of her grief once. It was as though she was allowed to transport herself through time and space and become just another travel writer at the beginning of her career rather than a grieving fiancée.
“Anna, Anna, Anna.” Harriet sipped her cappuccino toward the end of their interview and laughed gently. “This was such a remarkable pleasure. It’s pretty rare that I find myself thinking about the real reasons I got into something like this.”
Anna flipped her pad of paper closed and dropped her gaze, embarrassed.
