Chapter 4
Ginny had always known the best places. Bars, restaurants, exclusive clubs, she’d always found her way onto guest lists and into exclusive parties as though she had the right of way through life. It had mystified Alana back in the early days of their time in the city together, although it hadn’t taken Alana long to figure out Ginny’s secrets. Alana had soon known all the right people, too, until she’d left all that behind.
Alana felt swept back into Ginny’s world. It was hard to believe she’d ever left.
But this time, she had Sarah in tow. Sarah was a brilliant actress, but she couldn’t even keep her excitement at bay. “I heard about this restaurant on TikTok!” she whispered as she followed Alana and Ginny up the stairs into a Chinese place celebrities frequented. “The waitlist is crazy long!”
Sarah’s guess was as good as Alana’s as to how Ginny had gotten them in. Eventually, she struck up the nerve to ask, and Ginny shrugged and said, “I used to date the guy who owned it.” She left it at that. Sarah’s eyes widened.
Ginny led them to a corner table with a view of the restaurant. Everything shone neon, and waiters and waitresses were dressed beautifully and exotically as though they’d just stepped out of the ancient Chinese past. They brought fancy wet napkins for them to wash their hands with, then served them sparkling water and champagne. Although Alana knew all about teenage drinking (she’d been a big fan of it back in the day), Alana never let Sarah drink in front of her. She could do that on her own time and away from her father’s prying eyes. Alana wanted no part of it. But the champagne was exquisite. When Ginny suggested they give Sarah a small sip, Sarah looked at Alana pleadingly as Alana winced and said, “Your dad would kill me.”
“It’s the right thing,” Ginny said. “You’ll be twenty-one in no time.”
Sarah looked disgruntled as she pored over the menu, but the dark cloud soon dissipated, and the three of them had a marvelous time. Both Ginny and Sarah were confident about their auditions, although Sarah admitted her tone of voice had been “weird” halfway through. “It was like I was self-sabotaging,” she said. “I totally panicked.”
“I’m sure it was great,” Alana said.
“I’ve worked with the director before,” Ginny said. “He’s a great guy. Very charming. Very insightful. He told me I’m basically a shoo-in for the part.” She blushed and sipped her champagne. “But I like auditioning anyway. It forces me to get in tune with the character early on.”
“How many times have you worked with this director?” Alana asked.
“Five or six times,” Ginny said.
Alana’s heart thumped. “You’ve had quite the career, then?”
“I had to figure something out. I didn’t want to leave New York, and I didn’t want to quit acting. I’ve worked off-Broadway and even several student films to get by. There were a few years here and there where I had to work behind the bar or as a waitress, but I always ended up back on stage.” Ginny flipped her hair. “I’m addicted! I hope I get to act as a little old lady one day.”
Sarah gushed. “That’s amazing. If I don’t get into the play, I would love to sit in on rehearsals sometimes and watch you work.”
“I don’t see why not,” Ginny said. “But don’t count yourself out yet, honey. Anything can happen. Maybe the gods of theater will shine down upon you.”
Sarah chuckled and glanced at Alana. Alana sensed herself dimming in Sarah’s eyes. Ginny had had a marvelous and long-drawn-out career. No, she’d never been a superstar as Alana had been for the briefest of moments. But she’d kept it going, kept getting roles. And now she was supposedly the number-one pick for the director. That meant something.
Suddenly, Ginny’s phone buzzed. She grabbed it and answered frantically, “Hello?”
Sarah and Alana watched her expectantly. Alana’s heart was in her throat.
“Thank you so much,” Ginny said as tears filled her eyes. “I can’t wait to work with you again, too.” She hung up and brought both fists into the air in triumph. It was obvious she’d gotten the part.
“It’s for sure?” Sarah asked with surprise.
“Yes. I’m in,” Ginny said.
Sarah bowed her head and looked at her phone. “Nobody has called me yet.”
“It’s important to enjoy yourself tonight, no matter what,” Ginny said. She sounded frantic and slightly unhinged. It was clear she was already envisioning the next weeks of her life, the new play, a new group of cast members, and new rehearsals. Alana remembered that period of a new production well when everything shifted on its axis, and it was as though everything was possible because nothing had happened yet.
Suddenly, Sarah’s phone began to ring. It was a surprising sound, louder than Alana remembered. Alana learned later it was the first time Sarah had turned it all the way up. Sarah pounced on it. “Hello?” Sarah was breathless. Alana watched as her face transformed like an opening flower. And then she was on her feet saying, “Thank you! Thank you! I can’t wait! Thank you!”
Ginny and Alana burst up to wrap Sarah in hugs. Alana couldn’t believe it. The doors of Broadway that had once closed for Alana had been flung open for Sarah. They were welcoming her into the fold.
“I’m so thrilled!” Ginny cried. “We’re going to be stage buddies!”
Alana panged with many feelings. She never would have admitted to anyone that she was jealous. That her stomach felt twisted with it. Ginny’s life was looking better and brighter by the minute—especially as Alana sipped more and more champagne. Had she given up on her dreams too early? Had she thrown her life in the trash?
But to ask that question meant poring over the details of her almost forty-seven years. It meant asking if her first marriage had been a mistake from the start. It meant asking if she never should have been a model and rather focused on acting the entire time. Ginny had never been a supermodel; her face had never been on the cover of Vogue or flashing up in Times Square. But she still surged forward. Did that mean she’d won?
Alana refused to allow her strange regrets to destroy the night. They ate at the Chinese restaurant and immediately went dancing at a club that allowed eighteen and up. Sarah shimmied across the dance floor and glowed with adrenaline. Ginny whispered in Alana’s ear and asked, “Doesn’t she remind you of us at that age? Isn’t it crazy?” Alana laughed and said, “She’s a whole lot smarter than I was at that age. That’s for sure.” Ginny agreed and joined Sarah on the dance floor. She had more energy than Alana did.
They stopped dancing sometime around one in the morning. They paraded down the street and grabbed slices of pizza at a late-night pizzeria, where they laughed about nothing in particular. They acted as raucous as three teenagers.
“I have a feeling Sarah’s going to get me in trouble this summer!” Ginny cried as she tapped parmesan onto her pizza.
“Me? I’m not the troublemaker. You were the one flirting with those guys earlier,” Sarah teased.
It was true that Ginny seemed keen to flirt with every man who walked by. She was gorgeous and vivacious and clever, and they always went along with it. Alana wasn’t jealous of that. She didn’t want to be single, and she loved Jeremy deep in her bones.
But sometimes, she caught herself stirring in jealousy about Ginny’s freedom and career and openness to the wildness of life. Was Alana boring by comparison? Did Sarah think she was boring because she’d given up and started a school for acting rather than pursuing her own art?
She thought of Ella’s tour, Julia’s publishing house, her mother and father’s books and Quentin’s documentaries. Compared to them, Alana was an artistic failure. No wonder her mother liked her least. Of all the Copperfields, she’d been the first to give up on her art. What did that say about her?
Of course, it was just a guess that Greta liked Alana least of all. But it was something Alana had never been able to shake. Sometimes, she wondered if that was the reason she hadn’t had children. She knew that a mother’s love wasn’t always a given. She didn’t want to disappoint them. And she didn’t want them not to love her back.
It was protection. But it still hadn’t protected Alana from the sorrows that lurked in the shadows of life.
* * *
Alana and Sarah set aside the next morning to search for a temporary apartment for Sarah’s summer in the city. Their budget was tight because Sarah didn’t want to ask her father for any cash; she wanted to support herself completely. This was admirable and rare in this generation, Alana knew. But she considered telling Sarah to push aside her pride; some of the places they looked online at were dingy and dangerous, and Jeremy would pull out all the stops for his little girl. But eventually they discovered a tiny studio apartment in the Lower East Side that fit Sarah’s price range. Sarah called the landlord (she wanted to do that herself, too) and set up an appointment to see the place that afternoon. Until then, they had time to kill.
“We should go wedding dress shopping!” Sarah suggested. “Unless you want to wait for your sisters.”
Alana blushed and sipped her coffee. She’d imagined herself trying on dresses surrounded by Julia, Ella, and her mother. But something about Sarah’s smile made her leap at the chance. She’d chosen this life with Sarah and Jeremy. She hadn’t chosen the life of off-Broadway or off-off-Broadway. She needed to celebrate that choice with the perfect dress. It didn’t hurt to look.
Sarah jumped in the shower before they left, which gave Alana time to call Jeremy. He already knew Sarah’s good news, but he sounded wary. “I’m so glad you’re going with her to look at this apartment,” he said. “If the landlord is shady in any way, don’t let her sign.”
“Don’t worry. I know my way around shady landlords,” Alana assured him.
“I don’t know what to feel about any of this,” Jeremy said.
Alana could picture him in the basement of the Nantucket Records’ Office beneath his fluorescent lamp. Sometimes, he wore reading glasses that he played with when he was nervous.
“Sarah’s a smart girl,” Alana said. “And a brilliant actress. She deserves to give this a chance. And we’re going to help her every step of the way.”
“Not really,” Jeremy said. “She refuses my help money-wise.” He sounded fearful about that, too. As though money was the final link between himself and Sarah, and he didn’t want to give it up.
“She loves you, Jeremy,” Alana assured him. “The help and guidance you give from here on out has nothing to do with money. We should celebrate that.”
Alana and Sarah left the hotel and headed toward the first of Sarah’s selected wedding dress shops. “I heard about this place on TikTok,” Sarah explained as they walked by the window and gazed inside. “A YouTube star I like went here for her wedding dress.”
Alana’s throat filled with dread. She had a hunch that was soon confirmed when they walked in and realized that none of the wedding dresses had price tags. What did that mean for the prices? Sarah suggested they play it cool and pick out a few dresses for Alana to try on. It was true that the gowns were stunning, made in glowing fabrics that seemed to have been spun in heaven. The sales clerk helped Alana and hung three dresses in a dressing room bigger than the foyer in The Copperfield House. Sarah helped Alana into the first gown and then stepped back so that Alana could swirl around and look at her reflection in all six of the mirrors. Alana pulled her shoulders back and imagined herself on her wedding day in this gown.
“It’s a little much, isn’t it?” Alana said with a laugh. “I’m not Carrie Bradshaw. I’m not marrying Mr. Big.”
Sarah had just watched Sex and the City for the first time and cackled happily. “You’re right. Dad would probably run the other way if you wore this down the aisle. He doesn’t do well with ostentatious.”
Alana wrinkled her nose at the other dresses they’d picked out. They were all similarly heavy and wildly over-the-top. Before she chickened out, she pressed open the dressing room door and called to the clerk, “Ma’am? How much does this dress cost?” She referred to the dress she was wearing.
The clerk looked at her as though she had three heads. People weren’t supposed to ask questions like that. It was gauche.
Under her breath, the clerk answered, “Thirty-five thousand dollars.”
Although she was fully freaking out, Alana made sure not to change her facial expression. “Thank you.” She closed the door and locked eyes with Sarah, who giggled into her hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” Alana said.
Alana had never removed a garment with more fear. She stepped out of the dress and hung it gingerly on the hook, then hurriedly put on her street clothes and ran out of there. She and Sarah hit the sidewalk and burst into giggles. By the time they’d rounded the corner, Alana had tears in her eyes.
“That was insane, Sarah!” Alana cried.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t even know they made dresses that cost that much.”
“That woman almost killed me,” Alana said. “But I had to know.”
They carried on through Midtown and went in and out of wedding dress shops all through the afternoon. Alana had given up finding “the one” that day when they stumbled into the boutique near Sarah’s would-be apartment. They planned to just dip in and out so they wouldn’t be late for Sarah’s appointment with the landlord. But the dress that hung in the corner gave Alana pause. It was vintage-looking with a Parisian air, similar to a dress a French friend of Alana’s had worn a few years back during her wedding at Versailles. Alana’s fingers buzzed with excitement. Sarah caught Alana’s expression. “Try it on.”
“We don’t have time,” Alana said.
“We have enough time.”
Alana rolled her eyes and ducked into the dressing room. Because it wasn’t as ornate or heavy as the other one, she got herself into the dress in no time flat. When she whipped open the door, Sarah’s face told her everything she needed to know: that she looked like a bride.
Alana took one look at herself in the mirror and knew in the belly of her soul that this was the one. But she didn’t have time to linger on this decision. They had to hurry to Sarah’s apartment. They couldn’t delay.
Alana asked the clerk to hold the dress as they went around the corner to meet the landlord. He was a drab-looking Englishman named Edmund, whose father had bought the apartment as an investment. “Nobody could have imagined how expensive this place would get!” he said with a laugh.
Alana watched Sarah move through the apartment with the air of a young woman about to build the life of her dreams. She asked questions about utilities and where to put the garbage and then agreed to sign for the summer—with the possibility of extending the contract. The apartment was furnished, which made it easier for everyone for the time being. Alana co-signed the contract and shook Edmund’s hand. They would move Sarah in on June 1st. That was two days before rehearsals began.
Alana and Sarah returned to the hotel that night to freshen up and prepare for their final evening before returning home. Sarah was bubbly and smiling at everyone. They should bottle that feeling, Alana thought. The feeling that everything was about to begin. The feeling that nothing could ever go wrong. It would sell for millions of dollars. It was the secret to youth.