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Again, Anna, it’s a pleasure to know you and to count myself as a sort of colleague in this insane world we call “travel writing.” Please, don’t hesitate to send me any additional drafts and reach out for my assistance. I have a hunch that soon, perhaps in only a few years, I’ll be reaching out to you for help instead.
All the best,
Everett
Anna closed her laptop and cracked her knuckles, her mind whirring. With Everett’s advice, the article seemed to open up for her like a flower, and she understood exactly where to take it to give it that extra “oomph.” Before she could overthink it, she grabbed her cell and called Harriet, trying her darnedest not to feel self-conscious about asking for a second interview. She knew that journalists did this kind of thing all the time.
Harriet answered Anna’s call on the second ring. “Harriet Thornburg speaking?”
Anna made sure her voice was friendly. “Hi, Harriet. It’s Anna Crawford. We met yesterday morning for an interview.”
“Of course! Hi, Anna. Gosh, I should apologize to you for Saturday. I was probably acting like a crazy person. Did anything I say make any sense?”
“You were fantastic,” Anna assured her. “I couldn’t have asked for a better interview, honestly.”
“Gosh. I find that hard to believe, but thanks for saying so,” Harriet said. “By the way, I think my son said he met you yesterday afternoon. Jack?”
“We did meet, yes.” Anna smiled at the memory of the very kind young man who’d actually made her feel like she didn’t have two heads.
“I hope he didn’t give you any trouble?”
Anna laughed, genuinely adoring Harriet’s sense of humor. “Not at all. To be honest with you, I’m the one that’s causing trouble.”
“How so?” Harriet asked.
“I realized I didn’t ask all the questions I needed to ask you,” Anna said. “And I was curious if you have any time for a second, short and sweet interview.”
Harriet’s laughter twinkled. “I would love it. What a pleasure to just get to sit around and talk about the Nantucket Festival I love so much!”
Anna was so grateful that Harriet hadn’t made her feel bad. “Thank you so much. Where should we meet?”
“You’re at The Copperfield House, correct?” Harriet asked.
“I am.”
“I could swing by The Copperfield House in about an hour?” Harriet suggested.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Anna said.
“It’s not too much trouble at all,” Harriet assured her. “Besides. I’ve always been eager to see inside that house. I used to think it was haunted when I was younger.”
Anna laughed gently. “It sort of is haunted, in a way.”
“Oh! I’m intrigued about that,” Harriet said. “I’ll see you in an hour, Anna. Make sure the ghosts save their performance for me.”
ChapterEighteen
Very soon after Herb and Eloise’s reunion in the dining room of the hotel, several tourists arrived for breakfast. They were older married couples in for the Daffodil Festival, or they were families with children who couldn’t sleep well, or they were young couples who’d come to the island to hike. Regardless of who they were and how kind they were, Eloise and Herb weren’t keen to go through the trauma of their past when surrounded by so many strangers. They quickly finished their cups of coffee, then hurried upstairs to Eloise’s hotel room.
But once in Eloise’s hotel room, the words didn’t come. Eloise stared at him, at her previous best friend and dearest love, as he sat at the edge of her unmade bed, and she couldn’t help but think about all the years they’d lost, about what kind of person she might have been if only they’d been able to stay together. During these thoughts, she cursed herself, knowing that life turned out just the way it was supposed to— and that Liam had given her a wonderful life. Still, she couldn’t help but think about these things. She supposed that was natural.
“These overalls were just about the only thing that survived the fire at my farm,” Eloise said when she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“A fire?” Herb’s eyes widened. “Gosh, that sounds hard.”
“It just happened,” Eloise explained. “I think I’m still processing it.”
Herb frowned. “Were you there at the time?”
