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Greta considered this as they waited for a stoplight to change. Around them, tourists walked through the April sunlight. Some of the women wore daffodils in their hair, tucked behind their ears.
“I tried to pretend he wasn’t real,” Greta answered honestly. “Isn’t that terrible? I would never tell him that now.”
“It sounds like that was the only way you could survive,” Eloise tried. “You had to tell yourself that such happiness didn’t exist. I felt the same way when Father first sent me away. For the first month or so, I cried in that uncomfortable bed as Aunt Maude slept in the next room. I couldn’t believe my life had taken such a terrible turn! And then, gradually, I taught myself how to live in this new reality.”
Greta’s frown intensified. She reached for Eloise’s hand and squeezed it. “Do you think, as little girls, we ever imagined our lives would be filled with such suffering?”
Eloise dropped her gaze. “I certainly never did. All I remember is sun-dappled picnics on the beach, biking through downtown, and eating ice cream until it melted along my hand.”
“Those are my memories, too,” Greta breathed. “I never should have left for Paris. I should have stayed here. Maybe I could have convinced Father…”
“Don’t,” Eloise instructed her. “Don’t play that game. What’s done is done. And we’re here now. Together.”
Very soon, a large hand waved from across a downtown street, and Greta and Eloise scurried across to find Bernard, Quentin, Quentin’s son, James, and Ella’s son, Danny, attempting to take up as much space on the sidewalk as they could. Eloise’s heart opened at the sight of Bernard, who she’d read about tremendously— about his books, his prison sentence, and his new innocence after his children had proven he hadn’t committed those crimes. She’d even read his recently published book— the one Julia had put her heart and soul into publishing. It had filled her very boring and lonely nights at the farmhouse.
“You must be Eloise,” Bernard said, his voice and eyes warm and welcoming. “I can’t believe it.”
Eloise smiled and extended a hand, but Bernard raised both of his arms and insisted on a hug instead. Eloise allowed it, laughing gently, then stepped back to shake Quentin’s hand.
“Quentin, I watched you almost every night on the news,” Eloise said.
Quentin’s smile was sincere. “Did you know we were related?”
“She knew everything,” Greta said.
“I did know,” Eloise confessed. “And it was incredible to see all the work you did over the years.”
“Thank you,” Quentin said quietly. “That means a lot to me. Aunt Eloise? Should I call you that?”
“You can,” Eloise said, surprised at how joyful she was at the sound of this new name.
Very soon afterward, other members of the family appeared. Ella and Will came, along with Alana and Jeremy, who remembered Eloise from her trip to the basement of the record office but didn’t go on about it, which Eloise was grateful for. Perhaps Jeremy was accustomed to the delicate nature of the records he handled and the fact that people didn’t always want to discuss them aloud.
A little later, Ivy, Scarlet, and Anna appeared around the corner. They wore spring dresses beneath their jackets, and their long legs were athletic and gleaming beneath the April sun. Eloise’s heart lifted at the sight of Anna, the young woman who’d been her only friend during those lost days on the road. Anna’s face reflected her joy at seeing Eloise, as well.
“Eloise, Eloise, Eloise.” Anna said her name over and over and then cupped Eloise’s elbows, her eyes alight. “You little sneak!”
Eloise’s cheeks were warm with embarrassment. “Anna, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Anna tugged Eloise toward a nearby bench where they could speak away from the rest of the Copperfield Family.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Anna said simply. “I just want to know more. How did you find me? How did you know I was going to be at that diner?” Her eyes burned with curiosity.
Eloise was embarrassed, but she forced herself to speak. “Gosh, Anna. I don’t know. I suppose first, I have to tell you that I kept tabs on the Copperfield Family over the years the way some people keep track of soap operas or sports teams. I always knew who all of you were, but I never imagined I’d ever get to meet you. I suppose it came from a fascination with the life I felt I’d not been allowed to live.”
Anna nodded as they sat on the bench, her eyes glowing with empathy. “I get that.”
“One evening on the news, they spoke about Dean,” Eloise continued, her voice breaking at the name of this poor man who’d lost his life. “I read a little bit about what happened online and couldn’t help but notice that Dean was from Ohio, not far from where I was living. I told myself not to do it— that it was too crazy. But before I knew what I was doing, I was in my truck, heading to Dayton. I suppose, for me, there was a gravity around you. You were my last link to my sister, and I just…” Eloise trailed off. “But I couldn’t go into the funeral home. That was too insane, even for me, a senile old lady. Instead, I drove to the diner to get my bearings and find a way to turn back to Indiana and leave you behind. That’s around the time you walked into the diner in the first place.”
Anna’s eyes widened at the story. “My gosh. What a coincidence.”
“You’re telling me,” Eloise said. “I thought I was dreaming for most of it. Yet, here we are.”
“Yet, here we are,” Anna echoed.
“I hope you aren’t angry with me,” Eloise said. “And I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of freak. Since I was sixteen years old and sent away, I’ve developed such a strange relationship with Nantucket Island— and I suppose, in coming here, I’m beginning to learn how to heal.”
Anna gripped Eloise’s hand. “Is there some way I can help you?”
