“Apparently, she’s this top-shot director,” Stephanie explained excitedly. “I couldn’t believe it when she reached out and said she wanted to premiere her film here at the film festival. Seriously, it’s what led me to tell the mayor that we could compete with the Venice Film Festival.”
“Ah. I see.” Ella felt speechless.
“Anyway, my kids have told me that she’s a mega-star,” Stephanie continued. “She’s premiering this new film calledSweet Reliefand has agreed to do an interview afterward. Oh! I forgot the most important part.”
Ella’s eyes had fully dried out. “What’s that?”
“Apparently, Ms. Conrad has a history on Nantucket,” Stephanie continued. “And has a friendship with Gregory Puck.”
Gregory Puck was one of the men Bernard had stolen millions from. Back in 1997, Gregory Puck had sat to testify that Bernard, his best friend for decades, was a “thief and a liar.” Probably, Stephanie’s memory of the Copperfield trial had faded. Back when it had happened, they’d been too young to understand the intricacies of such a trial, anyway.
“Anyway, Gregory Puck has asked to give a speech about Ms. Conrad’s efforts in the film industry and the start she got here on the island,” Stephanie continued, beaming with optimism. “Can you believe it, Ella? I really think this is going to be an excellent festival. I can feel it in my bones.”
Somehow, Ella worked her way through the rest of her stack of paperwork, paid for her half of breakfast, walked Stephanie back to the Nantucket Community Music Center, and returned to The Copperfield House without sobbing with rage. She felt like a trapped animal; all the exits seemed to lead directly to Marcia Conrad’s beautiful, successful face.
When Ella returned, she sat on her childhood bed with her guitar in her lap and strummed chords angrily, like a teenager with an attitude problem. Then, she grabbed her computer and searched for Marcia Conrad’s website. A CONTACT MARCIA box sat there provocatively, and Ella didn’t have the willpower not to type in it.
It was childish, maybe. But at the moment, it felt like the only way.
ELLA: I know what you’re doing. Stay away from my family. Or else my sisters and I will find a way to make you pay for what you did.
With that, she pressed SEND and dropped back on her bed, completely satisfied. She’d never resorted to these sorts of tactics. Yet now, as she lived a life she didn’t fully understand, she watched herself do and think and feel things she never had before. It was a new era.
ChapterThirteen
Alana and Julia were flabbergasted at the news of Marcia Conrad’s involvement in the Nantucket Jubilee. “That snake!” Alana cried, clutching her mug of coffee the next morning. “She’s gone too far this time!” Julia agreed. Unfortunately, nobody knew quite what to make of it, nor how to decide what to do next. Ella decided not to tell her sisters that she’d reached out to Marcia herself via Marcia’s website. It had been a moment of passion and anger, and it would probably amount to nothing. Probably.
Despite the drama with Marcia and the chaos of the impending Nantucket Jubilee, things on Nantucket had more-or-less settled into themselves. As running back on the Nantucket football team, Danny had already become “somebody to know” amongst the seniors, with girls hanging around him a little too long after the football games and guys asking him over to play video games and shoot hoops. It warmed Ella’s heart to see Danny fall so easily in with this less-raucous islander crowd. He still chatted with his Brooklyn pals, she knew, but he no longer seemed to demonize her for her decision to move them out of the city. Perhaps, even at seventeen, he understood why she had had to.
About a week and a half after learning of Marcia Conrad’s involvement with the Nantucket Jubilee, Ella returned home from a Jubilee meeting to find Alana, Jeremy, Charlie, and Julia out on the back porch. It was a Thursday, a gorgeous sixty-seven degrees, with tufts of clouds floating against a cerulean sky. Charlie played a Johnny Cash album on his portable speaker and flipped burgers on the grill that sat near the steps that led up to the porch. Jeremy stood with his muscular arms wrapped around Alana’s stomach while Julia placed a juicy-looking watermelon at the center of the table.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Julia said. “There was one more good watermelon at the store, and I grabbed it before anyone else.”
“Thatta girl,” Alana teased. “You always get what you want.”
Ella laughed and sat at the table. A breeze fluttered in off the Nantucket Sound and swept her hair out behind her.
“That kid of yours has really changed our game,” Jeremy said to Ella.
“I never thought in a million years that I would be the mother of a jock,” Ella joked.
“He’s just well-rounded,” Julia countered.
“I wish someone could convince me to do a little more exercise,” Alana said. “Ever since I got back to this island, I’ve been overfed and overly lazy.”
“Come on, Alana,” Ella said. “There’s nothing wrong with a little overindulgence.”
“Tell that to my jeans!” Alana quipped.
Julia returned to the table with a bottle of sparkling water with lemon. While the girls sipped the fresh and citrusy water, Charlie drank a diet soda, and Jeremy drank Gatorade, as he had football practice in a little while and planned to join the football players in a two-mile run. Out across the beach, a little girl rushed into the wall of wind, tugging a bright pink kite along with her. Sometimes, the island seemed too picturesque.
For a brief and beautiful moment, everything in Ella’s life seemed perfect.
Next came a knock at the door. Ella said, “I got it,” and carried her glass of water back inside. Julia hollered, “Could you grab the bag of lime tortilla chips on the counter?” “Of course, sis,” Ella called back. It would be a blissful afternoon with her sisters and her sisters’ boyfriends. Ella would do her best to shove away all thoughts of sorrow about being single again. Being single was often a blessing; at least, that’s what so many magazines and books advertised.
Ella opened the front door to find a broad-shouldered and muscular man of five-foot-six dressed in a mail courier’s uniform. The man carried a large manila envelope.
“Hello, there!” The courier was chipper, showing a big gap in his teeth.