Chapter 11
Alana woke up on the futon in Sarah’s studio apartment. Birds twittered out the window, and Manhattan sunlight pierced the glass. Her phone said it was only six-thirty in the morning, but Sarah had to get up and get ready by seven-thirty. It was a day that called for bagels and heaps of coffee. It was a day that called for reminding Sarah just how much she mattered in the world, that she was needed, and that she needed fuel to start her day.
This was Alana’s second visit since Sarah moved in, a result of Sarah having called her sobbing yesterday morning. “I’m just having a really tough time.” Alana had told Jeremy she’d go right away. The truth was far more complicated, of course. She’d become addicted to the wild Manhattan days and nights, to the smorgasbord of restaurants, to Ginny’s stories, to the daydream of whatever life she might have had if she hadn’t followed Asher all over the world and become his sad wife and fallen apart shortly thereafter.
It was mid-June and already seventy-five degrees. She took a key and slipped down the street to get two everything bagels with scallion cream cheese and two massive coffees. When she returned to Sarah’s apartment, Sarah sat at the end of her bed and rubbed her eyes.
“Morning, sleepy head!”
Sarah winced and took one of the coffees. “Thank you.” She sipped it and winced again. “I’m so sorry about yesterday. I feel like such a little kid.”
“Don’t worry about it! I’m happy to be here.” Normally, Alana stayed at a hotel, but she’d opted for Sarah’s futon last night because they’d stayed up late watching films, eating snacks and chatting. Alana thought, if this is what it means to have a daughter, I’m all in.
They’d also run lines for more than two hours. Sarah felt stumped as to why she struggled to learn lines in the city alone. “When you’re here, it’s like they stick in my head better,” Sarah had said. Alana’s heart swelled with love. It was so nice to feel needed.
It reminded her of all the years of her life when she’d tried to make Greta feel not needed. She regretted it.
Sarah and Alana ate bagels and talked about the day ahead.
“I asked Pete if you can sit in on rehearsals,” Sarah said. “He’s cool with it.”
“Really?” Alana was surprised. Ginny had said that Pete, the director, liked closed rehearsals and that he didn’t want to give away any of his secrets before he was ready.
“Yeah! But you’ll get bored,” Sarah said. “They last forever.”
“I won’t get bored,” Alana promised.
These proved to be famous last words. Morning rehearsal lasted from eight-fifteen to one-thirty, and Alana was too terrified to stand up and distract anyone by opening the door to leave. She threw herself into watching and listening, but there were only so many times she genuinely appreciated watching the same scene. Pete was at times enthusiastic and at other times pulling out his hair. Alana wondered if he was acting out what he thought a typical director should be like. Maybe it was all fake.
When morning rehearsal broke, the lights came on overhead. Alana was surprised and blinked wildly. The actors jumped off the stage and hurried out to grab lunch before their afternoon rehearsal began. Sarah sidled up to Ginny and spoke to her quietly. Alana felt like a sore thumb. Was she invited to lunch? Should she just slip out quietly and let the actors do their thing? She’d told Sarah they could get burgers after and just hang out. That’s what she was here for.
Pete turned and looked at Alana. His eyes were penetrating. After a split-second, he dropped his folder on stage and strode toward her. Alana felt cornered. Was he going to tell her that he wanted her out of rehearsal? That this wasn’t meant for her?
“I know you,” he said when he got close enough.
It sounded like an accusation. Alana blinked at him.
“I swear I do,” Pete went on.
A smile crept over Alana’s lips. She shifted her weight and popped her hip out to one side. It was rare to be looked at like this. Like she mattered in a city of eight million.
“Have we met before?” Alana asked.
“I don’t think so,” Pete said. “But I know I would have liked to meet you.” He snapped his fingers. “Where have I seen that face?”
Alana arched her eyebrow. “I’m Sarah’s stepmother. Well, almost.”
Pete seemed not to have heard her. He stepped closer and narrowed his eyes. “You were in Times Square.”
Alana’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Just once.”
“For ages,” Pete said.
Alana remembered how eerie it had been to see her face in Times Square as big as a mountain, how she’d smiled down on everyone and felt like the queen of New York.
“But that wasn’t all you did. I remember you in commercials. And magazine ads.”
“I was on the cover of Vogue,” she said.
Pete snapped again. “You were everywhere, baby.”
Alana laughed with surprise. In a city as fast-paced as New York City, she hadn’t imagined anyone would remember her days of modeling.
“I was in love with you for years,” Pete went on.
Alana was incredulous. “Based on my advertisements?”
“They weren’t just advertisements,” he said. “They were magic.”
Alana was floored. She tucked a curl behind her ear as he continued to stare at her. She’d forgotten what it was like to be looked at like this. She’d forgotten how much she missed it.
“That’s very kind of you,” she said.
“I’m not kind,” Pete assured her. “But I know when someone has it. And baby, you have it.”
Alana laughed again and squeezed her fists. She wasn’t sure what to do. “I’m in the city for a few days. Maybe you want to join Sarah and me for dinner one night?”
“Sarah’s a real talent, too,” he said. “I adore her.”
“So do I.” Alana breathed out.
“Dinner sounds fantastic. Why not?” Pete pulled his phone from his pocket to check his calendar. “I can do tomorrow night.”
“Perfect,” Alana said. “I’ll pick you up here.”
After that, Alana turned on her heel and sauntered up the auditorium aisle. She didn’t have to look back to see Pete staring after her. A shiver ran down her spine. A director had just told her she had “it.” But what did that mean for her career?
Pete’s eyes were dangerously flirtatious. But he knew Alana was Sarah’s soon-to-be stepmother. She’d said it right out of the gate. But this was how these director guys were. They wanted to stake ownership over you. They wanted to win.
Alana had to be very careful with him. She had to keep him at a distance.
But what if he wanted her to perform for him? What would she do then?
Sarah was excited that Pete planned to join them for dinner tomorrow. “He never hangs out with anyone from the production,” she said. “What did you say to him to change his mind?”
Alana laughed. “He recognized me from my old modeling days. Isn’t that silly?”
They were in line to get burgers. Sarah didn’t look surprised. “I’ve met a few people who remember you from those days,” she said. “I don’t think I fully knew how influential you were.”
Alana wanted to say she didn’t either. But she decided to keep that to herself. She had to increase her own mystique.
“You were really good today,” Alana said.
Sarah winced. “It’s so strange that I remember all of my lines when I know you’re close by.”
“Does that mean I have to go to every single performance, too?” Alana asked with a laugh.
“I’ll get over this soon,” Sarah said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
Alana touched her shoulder. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. This is normal. It’s your first big gig in the city! I imagine your nerves are all over the place.”
Sarah nodded and let her smile drop. “I hope Dad isn’t upset that I keep calling you here.”
“You know how he is. He gets plenty of time to watch his TV shows, movies and sports. There’s nobody there to nag him to eat healthily. It’s a dream.”
Sarah laughed. “Not that we’re eating healthily either!” She reached up to take the tray laden with greasy burgers and a pile of home-cut fries.
“Don’t tell your father,” Alana quipped.
Alana stayed at a hotel that night to give Sarah some space. She sat at the bar for a little while with a book that she hadn’t read and instead googled her old advertisements from her modeling days. Not everything was online, but some were. She was careful not to let anyone see that she was looking at gorgeous and glossy photographs of herself from nearly thirty years ago. She felt a stab of fear. Every minute that passed, she got further from that young woman. She had almost nothing in common with her anymore, save for the fact that people like Pete remembered her.
Alana called Jeremy that night. He answered on the second ring. “How are my city girls doing?”
Alana laughed and stretched languidly on the bed. “Your daughter is doing so well.”
“That isn’t what she says when she calls home and begs you to come down.”
“I think she’s just going through growing pains,” Alana said. “You should have seen her in rehearsal.”
“They let you into rehearsal?”
“They did,” Alana said proudly. “And the director even remembered my old silly advertisements from back in the day.”
“You’re kidding.”
Jeremy had told Alana numerous times that seeing her face plastered everywhere after they’d broken up had nearly driven him insane. She hoped talking about it now didn’t bother him.
“It’s silly,” Alana affirmed.
“It’s not. And it makes sense. You were brilliant in those ads,” Jeremy said. “I can’t believe I get to marry the famous model Alana Copperfield. I hope the city doesn’t take you away from me.”
Alana felt a tug on her heartstrings. “Never. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Alana spent the morning in the hotel spa. It was luxurious and freeing. She sat in a piping-hot sauna, closed her eyes and imagined all her pores opening and clearing. Sometimes, she pictured herself on her wedding day in just six weeks; other times, she imagined herself center-stage on Broadway as Pete directed her down below, his eyes narrowed. She always shook that image out.
Alana picked Sarah, Pete, and Ginny up from rehearsal at seven-thirty that evening. Ginny had nabbed them an exclusive table at a Thai restaurant in Greenwich Village. The other members of the cast eyed Sarah and Ginny enviously. They probably wondered if this meant that Sarah and Ginny’s performances were better than theirs. They probably assumed they wouldn’t be selected for Pete’s next production.
The world of theater was cut-throat. Alana knew that it was rare to feel a director’s light shine upon you like this.
The night was beautiful. Gorgeous New Yorkers swarmed Greenwich Village and wove in and out of bars and restaurants. A guy around Pete’s age approached and shook his hand. “We worked together years ago,” he said. “I hope you’re well?” Pete played along until he left. Then he turned to whisper in Alana’s ear, “I don’t know that guy at all. I wonder what it’s like to be so washed-up that you cling to old memories like that?” Alana laughed nervously. It felt wonderful to be a part of Pete’s world and his little jokes.
It reminded her momentarily of what it had felt like with Asher. He’d been so important. So widely known. But when she’d been the only one in his orbit, her life had felt truly golden. He’d only shared his secrets with her.
They sat at the restaurant and were immediately served cocktails and small plates of Thai appetizers. Pete was talking to Ginny and Sarah about the production in a way that made Sarah’s eyes sparkle. Alana smiled even though she didn’t know what was going on. This was Sarah’s moment! Her time to shine!
“So,” Pete said as he stuck a small toothpick into a dumpling, “you’re going to be Sarah’s stepmother. That’s it, right?”
Sarah nodded excitedly. “The wedding is at the end of July.”
“Coming up quick,” Pete said.
“It doesn’t interfere with any of our performances,” Sarah promised.
Alana smiled wider but couldn’t help but feel that Pete was scrutinizing her. As though he wanted her to say something cross about weddings or Jeremy.
“Weren’t you married to someone very famous?” Pete asked.
Alana kept herself from rolling her eyes. “All things come to an end.”
“But who was it? It wasn’t Asher, was it? That sniveling guy.” Pete laughed. “It was. I can see it written all over your face.”
“It’s over now,” Alana said. She couldn’t tell if Pete was flirting with her or toying with her or both. She’d been out of the game too long.
Sarah grabbed Ginny’s elbow and said, “Look! Felicity is here!” She waved at a woman in the corner who was also in the production. “Let’s go say hi.”
Ginny and Sarah popped up to say hello to Felicity. This left Alana alone with the provocative Pete. She filled her mouth with water and looked directly past his head at the street outside the window. She knew he was going to say something, but she couldn’t guess what.
“I can’t believe you quit,” Pete offered.
Alana parted her lips with surprise. Of everything, this was probably the worst thing he could have said. “I had to go back to Nantucket,” she said. “My marriage broke up, and my father got out of prison. It’s a long story.”
“I skimmed some of it in the news,” Pete said.
Alana was momentarily flattered that he’d googled her family. She hated that she felt that way. But there it was.
“And now you’re getting married,” Pete went on, “which means your career is really over.”
“I wouldn’t say that. People get married all the time.”
Pete’s eyes glinted. “Is that so? You’re going to auditions? You’re planning?”
Alana remembered the high school girls she taught back at The Copperfield House. She adored them so completely. If she left to pursue her own career, who would be there for them? That wasn’t to mention Jeremy.
“I might have a few auditions in the pipeline,” Alana said. Why was she lying to this man!? What was wrong with her?
“Good. Fantastic. You must audition for my next production,” he said.
Alana was taken aback. She remembered what Ginny had said of Pete after the more recent auditions, that he’d told her she was basically a shoo-in. Was this conversation proof that Alana was a shoo-in, too? She shifted on her chair but kept her smile even. She was accustomed to this from years of modeling; she’d always known how to manipulate the camera to keep it interested in her. She had the same effect on Pete.
Pete removed his phone from his pocket. “Give me your number.”
Alana flinched, took the phone, and typed in her details. By the time she handed it back, Ginny and Sarah were on their way to the table. Their laughter echoed through the restaurant.
“I can’t wait to see what you’re capable of, Alana Copperfield,” Pete said just before they sat back down. “I’ve been dying to know for almost thirty years.”