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Harriet and Eloise stepped into the kitchen, both wordless. Greta dropped her spatula to the side and swallowed them both in a hug as the two of them cried gently against both of her shoulders.
And in this impossible moment, surrounded by her sister and her daughter, Eloise felt a part of the great tapestry of familial life. She felt a part of the love that came, generation after generation, passed down from parents to children. It was impossible to understand why her parents hadn’t wanted to love her the right way; it was impossible to understand why they’d wanted to belittle her so.
But Eloise knew, beyond anything, that she had to let the anger from her past go. Only without that anger could she possibly flourish in the here and now. And already, based on only an hour with her daughter, she had a sense that the future could be nothing but bright.
ChapterTwenty
Anna’s editor back in Seattle hadn’t been able to publish her article about the Nantucket Daffodil Festival, but he had passed the article on to an editor friend on the east coast who’d written Anna immediately to set up a phone call. “Your writing is incendiary,” he’d said over the phone, his voice exuberant. Tears had come to Anna’s eyes as she’d listened to herself discuss the very few edits he wanted her to make, along with the date he could publish it, both in print and online.
The article was published in the second week of May, over a month after the fateful day when everything in Anna’s life had changed forever. It seemed beyond the bounds of reason that Dean hadn’t been on the earth since then. It seemed even more insane that Anna had found a way to keep going. She took it easy— one day at a time, resting when she needed to.
Still, as Anna spread the magazine out across the kitchen table in The Copperfield House to see the title and her name in big, bold print, a shiver raced up and down her spine. Despite the depths of her trauma, she’d still managed to make a piece of art— something that people would read and uphold. And this, beyond anything, made her feel more alive than she had in weeks.
Two afternoons after the article was published, Anna met with Andrea for another session. She told her about the article and about how writing the article had ultimately brought Harriet and Eloise together for the first time since Harriet’s birth— and Andrea’s jaw nearly fell to the floor.
“I always knew that Harriet didn’t know her mother,” Andrea said. “But this story is truly sensational.”
“They’re still dealing with the aftermath of what my great-grandfather did all those years ago,” Anna explained. “His cruelty completely altered the course of their lives.”
Andrea puffed out her cheeks. “I imagine Eloise didn’t have anywhere to turn as a young woman.”
“No support network at all,” Anna agreed. “She was made to be a total outcast.” She paused for a moment, then said, “All my family has done since I returned to Nantucket is make sure I feel loved and safe and comforted. It’s made me all the more grateful for what I have.”
“And how have you felt about your life in Seattle lately?” Andrea asked.
Anna considered this, remembering the studio apartment with its broken stove and its view of the trashcans out the window. “I almost feel ready to give it up. It was my dream to live in Seattle, and it was my dream to marry Dean and have babies with him. But now that I’m here, carving out a new life for myself, I know that I need to find ways to let the past go in order to make space for the new.”
“I hope you know you can be patient with yourself,” Andrea added.
“Oh, trust me. I’m in no mood to push myself too far,” Anna said. “Slow and steady. One day at a time.”
* * *
After her grief therapy appointment, Anna walked into the May sunshine and removed her jacket to stride through the downtown streets with her face lifted. The breeze was sensational, smelling of salt and ice cream and baked bread and fried fish. For a moment, she paused at the corner and allowed herself to bask in the incredible texture of the world around her. How grateful she was to be here and for the life she’d been given— even if it had been shadowed with sorrow.
And in that moment of naivety, as she sat in gratefulness, a thought struck her out of nowhere.
When was her last period?
Anna’s eyes popped open with surprise. Slowly, her hand extended over her stomach as she dared to think something that seemed impossible. As moments passed, she did her darnedest to count back the days in her cycle, realizing that she’d bypassed her period by more than two weeks at this point. At the time, she’d been so stricken with grief that she hadn’t even noticed.
It was possible that she’d missed it because of stress. Bodies reacted to grief in all sorts of ways.
But another reason was possible, as well.
Oh, the thought terrified and thrilled her at once. Abruptly, she turned on her heel and walked back to the drugstore on the corner, where she charged back to the pregnancy tests and stalled in front of them. They all looked approximately the same, with similar prices and similar photographs that advertised happy mothers with vibrant smiles. Unsure, Anna grabbed four different ones and hurried to the counter, where she paid with her card and tried not to look the cashier in the eye. It was strange, she thought now, to reveal so much of your personal life to the cash register at the drugstore.
“Good luck,” the woman at the register said as Anna fled the store.
Anna couldn’t stop herself before she said, “Thank you!”
She supposed the woman had sensed Anna’s excitement. Anna hadn’t passed the pregnancy tests over the counter with dread. She’d basically thrown them there with endless enthusiasm, as though they’d been party favors.
All the way back to The Copperfield House, Anna floated, her heart in her throat. She hardly dared to dream the impossible and tried her best to quiet her stirring mind.
When she reached The Copperfield House, she found it in a state of chaos. This wasn’t a huge surprise— it seemed that always, people were coming and going from the old Victorian as though it was an open house.
In the front living room, Harriet and her son, Jack, whom Anna had met at the party a couple of weeks back, were in conversation with Ella and Danny. On the opposite side of the room were Alana and Julia, sipping mugs of tea as they chatted about something else. Anna rushed past them, taking special care not to make eye contact with her mother. Julia would know something was up immediately. It was mother’s intuition.
