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Ella’s cheeks burned. Without fully realizing what she wanted to say, she opened her lips and began to speak. “All I want in the world is to go back home to Brooklyn and crawl under the covers and cry and cry and cry.”
Ella continued to stare at the table, terrified at her own words. But before she could start fully sobbing, Will’s hand found hers on the table. His thumb traced the soft skin of her hand.
“I just never should have gone back there,” Ella breathed. “I knew better than to trust those people.”
“Your family?” Will sounded doubtful.
Ella’s eyes flashed. “You know as well as I do what they’ve put me through the past twenty-five years.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, then added, “And on top of it all, I just found out I’m not really one of them.”
Will’s face contorted. “What are you talking about?”
Ella bit her tongue and glanced toward her children, who remained in conversation with the young woman with dreadlocks. “Today, a mail courier came to The Copperfield House and delivered me a manila envelope. Inside, I found a copy of a birth certificate for someone named Ella Blackwood, born June 12, 1980.”
Will’s jaw dropped. Under his breath, he whispered, “Did it seem legitimate?”
Ella continued to speak quickly, wanting to get it all out before her children returned. “At first, I was wary. But then, I checked out my siblings’ photo albums, which all included photos right after delivery in the hospital. Mine doesn’t have any. I became suspicious, so I knocked on Greta’s door. The look on Greta’s face told me everything I needed to know. So, I ran out of the house, picked up Danny, and now, I’m here.”
“At Cincos,” Will finished.
“At Cincos.”
Will looked flabbergasted. He rubbed his hands over his beard and repeated, “Oh my gosh,” a few times, as though that meant anything. He then said, “I guess I would have done the same thing as you. I would have wanted Danny and Laura close.”
“And here we are together,” Ella whispered, her voice breaking.
Later that evening, Will, Ella, and Danny dropped Laura back off at her dorm and then jumped in Ella’s station wagon to head to the apartment that Will now subleased from a friend. Ella had only ever been there back in the old days, when she and Will had been together, and the place had just been “a friend’s place.” Now, it seemed to symbolize so much pain.
The apartment was small, with a bedroom, a small office with a twin-sized bed, and a living room with a television and a couch. As they entered, Will placed his keys on the kitchen counter like he owned the place and said, “Tonight, I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Ella said.
Will’s expression meant business. “That’s the way we’re going to do it. No arguments.”
Danny was only moderately impressed with the apartment, as it didn’t have the same memories as their old place and barely had a view of the street below. Of course, he soon discovered Will’s friend’s record collection and dove through memory lane, blaring Sonic Youth and My Blood Valentine albums like there was no tomorrow. Will and Ella sat in the kitchen with glasses of wine and listened as the songs roared in from the living room.
“I’m so angry for you,” Will said suddenly, surprising Ella.
“What do you mean?”
Will shook his head. “You discovered this enormous family secret so late in life. How do you even begin to grapple with that? How do you begin to move ahead when you now have so many questions?”
Ella was speechless. These were all questions that had hummed through her head all day.
“I want to go back to Nantucket with you,” Will said firmly. “I want to help you through this.”
Ella locked eyes with him, willing herself to say no. Things were over between Ella and Will; she’d known that for months.
“What about the tour?” Ella asked.
Will spread his fingers out across the table. “We’re on a break right now, with two months of downtime. I’m getting bored hanging around New York City by myself.”
Ella wanted to point out that already, he’d suggested that they should date other people. She held it back, pleased he’d been bored without her.
“Besides, this is bigger than the tour,” Will continued. “Like it or not, you’ve been my ride-or-die since I was nineteen years old. No matter what stage our relationship is at, I’d still like to think we can be there for each other. I’d still like to think that you’re my best friend in the world.”
Ella closed her eyes against his intensity, overwhelmed. He was so clearly the man she’d met at eighteen, the one she’d felt comfortable enough with to talk to all night and into the next morning. He’d been the first person who’d ever really listened to her.
She’d been silent too long. Will had grown jittery. As Ella pulled open her eyes to speak, Will sputtered, “And I’m sorry I got a drink with that Marcia Conrad lady.”
