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“Besides, you can still premier Marcia’s movie,” Ella continued, pushing her luck. “It’ll just come a few minutes late. That’s all.”
The premier for Marcia’s new cinematic achievement,Sweet Relief, was set for eight o’clock that evening. Prior to the premiere, Ella returned to The Copperfield House to change into a black dress and style her hair. Julia, Alana, and Quentin were all at the house as well, speaking in excited whispers about their upcoming scheme. Already, Quentin was half-dressed in an Italian-cut suit, which he apparently always had on hand, “just in case.”
After they dressed, the four Copperfield children sat on the back porch and watched the Nantucket waves roll toward the beach. Not far away, the Nantucket Jubilee soared on, its music floating through the air and permeating across the entire island.
“I talked to Mom this afternoon,” Quentin said softly, avoiding his normal “authoritative” voice. “I told her that I know about your situation, Ella. And that I’m trying to understand the pain that you’re all going through.”
Ella’s throat tightened.
“I invited her to come tonight,” Quentin continued. “But because I couldn’t explain what we were up to, I couldn’t convince her to leave the house.”
“Any sign of Dad?” Ella asked.
Quentin shook his head.
“He was better about making an appearance for a little while,” Ella continued, swiping a tear from her eye.
“Healing from all we’ve been through has no timeline,” Julia whispered.
They held the silence for a long time, all four of them wistful about the lives and dreams they could never get back and the parents that they would never fully know. Ella, too, was wistful about Joni Blackwood, wondering about the little personality details she might have inherited or if she’d have liked Ella and Will’s music. Perhaps these thoughts would forever remain, tearing a hole in Ella’s heart.
That night, Ella, Quentin, and Alana sat in the little room above the Dreamland Theatre, from which the projector illuminated the screen for hundreds of guests. Directly beside the traditional film projector, the Copperfield children had set up a digital film projector, which would allow them to project their newly created film, which Quentin had been able to film in a single take. As he was so experienced in the field of journalism, he’d been able to instruct Alana, Julia, and Ella on where to position the camera, how to set the lights, and when to cut the take. It had taken them little more than forty-five minutes to complete.
Now, their plan was in place.
“The theater is packed,” Ella breathed, peering through the window at the hundreds of little heads down below. In the front row and off to the right, a blond woman sat by herself, one perfect leg crossed over the other. “I can see Marcia.”
“Let me see.” Alana leaped to the window to peer down at the beautiful woman who’d ruined their lives. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more than I hate her right now,” Alana rasped, which was saying something. Alana had met a lot of horrendous people.
Quentin, who’d loosened his tie and removed his suit jacket after their first take, sat in the back of the projector room and nursed a beer. He looked both determined and pleased with himself. Julia stood off to the side, her arms crossed nervously over her chest. It wasn’t clear if their scheme would work. Just then, it was all they had.
“We can’t let her just parade in here and show off her movie like this,” Julia muttered angrily. “She thinks she owns Nantucket Island, but she’s wrong.”
Suddenly, Stephanie appeared on the theater stage, her heels clicking as she walked to the center. Once she reached the podium, the crowd quieted in expectation. Ella had instructed Stephanie to say just what she’d planned to say, as though she hadn’t any idea what would happen next. (Truthfully, Ella hadn’t given Stephanie much to go on in terms of “what she was up to,” anyway.)
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the first annual Nantucket Film Festival. My name is Stephanie Grayson, and it’s been a unique pleasure to organize the Nantucket Jubilee from the ground up. Well, I say it’s been a unique pleasure— but it’s also been a whole lot of other things. A headache. A huge emotional obligation. A reason to cry at night.”
The crowd ate out of Stephanie’s palm, laughing joyously as her face lightened up. Ella laughed, too, grateful for this best friend from years ago and her continued commitment to Ella, the Island of Nantucket, and the rest of the Copperfield Clan.
“When I first learned that the great Marcia Conrad herself wanted to premier her film here at the Nantucket Film Festival, I nearly fell over,” Stephanie continued to poke fun at herself. “After all, Marcia Conrad’s list of accomplishments are about a mile long. She’s paved the way for women in the film and literature industries, daring to dream impossible dreams. I can certainly say that when I was a little girl, I didn’t think that women could be directors. To me, and to so many others, that was a man’s job. Thank you, Ms. Conrad, for being a part of the wave of feminine influence that has proven me and so many others wrong.”
The crowd applauded yet again. Ella’s heart shivered with fear.
“Imagine my surprise to learn that Marcia Conrad has a very long history with Nantucket Island,” Stephanie continued. “Years and years ago, she got her start at a once-beloved artist residency called The Copperfield House. Since then, she’s summered here on Nantucket, building a lifelong commitment to the island and its mysticisms that will assuredly never go away. Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce Marcia Conrad— who will introduce her stunning film herself.”
The crowd roared so much that the glass in the window of the projector room shook. Ella leaped to attention, pressing the ON button of the projector, which required about thirty seconds to start up. As the crowd quieted, Marcia’s voice swelled from the microphone.
“Thank you. Thank you.” She paused for dramatic effect, then added, “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to introduce my film at the Nantucket Film Festival. As Stephanie said, my love for Nantucket has been essentially lifelong. The first time I stepped off the ferry to land here, the island took my breath away. Since then, every time I’ve returned here, it’s been a bit like returning home.”
Suddenly, the projector flashed up on the screen directly behind Marcia so that a small shadow of her body appeared at the very bottom.
“Oh. Um?” Marcia placed her hand on her forehead, as though she shielded the sun. She spoke to the projector room as she said, “Could you guys give us a few more minutes? I have a few more things to say, and then my dear friend Gregory Puck has agreed to say a few words as well.” She then returned her attention to the crowd to add, “The projection room is getting ahead of itself. I guess they want to get home early.”
The crowd laughed knowingly, as though technology people were always “getting everything wrong.”
But a split-second later, Quentin Copperfield’s well-known mug appeared on the very large theater screen. In the film, he sat at a desk that mocked the desk that he normally sat at during his nightly news segment, and he adjusted a stack of papers, just as he normally did on television.
“Good evening,” Quentin began.
