When Will emerged from the bathroom, he rubbed his hands through his lush hair and said, “There’s no way you can sleep, right?”
Ella shook her head. “I don’t think I’m going to try.”
Will nodded contemplatively and dropped down to assess the mini bar. “Shouldn’t have brushed my teeth,” he muttered as he removed a bottle of red wine. With a swivel of the bottle opener, he yanked the cork out and poured them two cups in the plastic ones provided by the hotel. They then clinked their glasses together, nodded, and drank. Ella fell back on the edge of her bed, her head throbbing. The wine seemed necessary; maybe she would find a way to sleep.
After a long pause, Will spoke. “You remember that first night we met?”
Ella nodded, surprised.
“You told me so much about your family that night,” Will said. “I remember listening to you talk about everything that had happened and thinking, ‘Wow. This girl is one of the loneliest girls I’ve ever met.’ I didn’t feel sorry for you, of course. Instead, I just recognized that you knew how to use that pain and sorrow to make damn good music.
“Anyway. It’s wild, remembering that story now, and realizing that it’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Will continued. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. I just want you to know that all of your feelings about it are valid. And I’m here, you know? I’m here for as long as you need me to be.”
Ella’s eyes filled with tears. Along the bedside table, she’d arranged the photographs of a pregnant Joni Blackwood, who peered out at the modern world with a sense of optimism.
“You were always my family, anyway, Will,” Ella murmured, her words hardly audible even for herself.
Will held the silence for a long time before he managed to say, “It was just us against the world. Then, it was us, Laura, and Danny against the world.”
“Things got a bit more complicated when the record company got so involved,” Ella admitted, remembering the early fights about recording contracts and how often they could go on tour, given the fact that they had children.
“We really threw a wrench in their plan when we got pregnant,” Will said mischievously.
“Gosh, can you imagine our lives without them?” Ella asked, suddenly aghast. “I remember once that seedy guy Greg who worked at the recording company asked if I would consider giving our baby up for adoption or pushing her off on a friend. He made it seem like it was impossible to make it in the music industry with a baby.”
“You were so angry at him,” Will breathed. “You refused to ever work with Greg again. At the time, that was all right. Our album sales were good enough that we could make up our own rules.”
“It’s wild that we ever lived that life,” Ella whispered. “Although I guess, in some ways, you’re still living that life. You’re out on tour, playing to hundreds if not thousands of people. Gosh, I hate to say that I’m jealous.” She dropped her gaze to the ground.
“I’ve told you before. It’s not the same without you,” Will said.
Ella wasn’t sure how to respond, so for a stretch of minutes, no words were said.
“What do you think you’ll do now?” Will asked.
“Gosh, I don’t know.” Ella hung her head. “I feel so displaced. The band broke up. We broke up. Laura’s off to college. Danny’s a football jock at Nantucket High. And I’m— the daughter of a folk musician who didn’t want me?”
Will sipped his wine. “Have you looked her up?”
“Yeah. Several times. I searched ‘Joni Blackwood - Musician’ even before Greta told us that story because it just made sense that I had some kind of musician mother.”
“Nothing came up?” Will asked.
“Nope. She’s a mystery,” Ella said. “I don’t know what to make of that, either.”
In the silence that followed, Will stepped through the space between their beds, sat a full foot away from her, and placed a gentle hand on her hand. Ella felt herself fold against him so that her head shivered with the thudding of his heart. This man was her man. This was her Will.
“I’m not going to take Danny out of school,” Ella whispered. “He’s already doing too well here.”
Will nodded. “That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s not even about kindness right now,” Ella offered. “It’s more about clinging to solid ground.”
Will’s voice cracked. “I can stay on the island till the end of the break in my tour.”
Ella sniffed. “Thank you, Will. I don’t think I can thank you enough.” After another pause, she added, “But we have to stay at The Copperfield House. Danny will want us both there.”
“Are you sure?” Will asked.