Chapter 19
The weekend before Alana and Jeremy’s wedding was Sarah’s first performance in Manhattan. Alana and Jeremy drove down that morning, holding hands between the seats as they raced toward that glinting horizon where their girl was making her way toward stardom. Greta, Bernard, Julia, Ella, and Will were coming in separate cars; Scarlet was already in the city with her mother, Quentin, James, and Ivy, and Laura was going to stop by to see it later that week on her way to Nantucket for the wedding. It was clear that everyone in the Copperfield family took her artistry seriously; they wanted to make time for her. They wanted to let her know she was loved.
Jeremy and Alana parked right in front of Sarah’s apartment in the Lower East Side. “I can’t believe we got a parking spot,” Alana said with a laugh as she got out.
“Must be a sign of good luck coming our way,” Jeremy said.
Sarah bounced from the front door and hugged her father first, followed by her soon-to-be stepmother. Alana searched Sarah’s face for some indication that Sarah had learned about Alana’s failed attempt at acting but found nothing. She hoped that meant nobody would ever tell Sarah that Sarah would be allowed to play the role of Martha without guilt weighing her down.
“Let’s get bagels,” Sarah said, tugging them along and gushing about that week of “horrible but incredible” rehearsals leading up to today’s show. “And Pete already wants me to start learning my lines for the next play!”
“You don’t look frantic,” Jeremy pointed out. “But I would be.”
Sarah smiled and caught Alana’s eye. “I just wish you were around to run lines with me. I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason any of this happened.”
“That’s not true,” Alana countered, “and you know it. It was pure talent.”
Even still, Alana’s heart was warm as they floated through the streets and ambled into her and Sarah’s favorite bagel place. Jeremy wasn’t familiar with it, so they recommended their favorite flavors and cream cheeses and ordered big coffees. They sat outside at a picnic table and watched the early afternoon city dwellers, all of whom seemed up on the latest fashions the latest ways to wear their hair and makeup. Alana felt woefully behind. It reminded her of her years in Paris when she’d realized that fashion had shifted off its axis the slightest bit, and she had to buy an entire new wardrobe. But now that she was an islander, practicality was slowly taking over her life. That, and her love for Jeremy. When you loved someone that much, when they loved you—it meant you just didn’t care about the little details as much anymore. Recently, she realized she’d gained a few pounds, but because her wedding dress still fit like a glove, she waved it off. It was no big deal. By comparison, if she’d been an actress preparing for the stage, she would have absolutely panicked.
After bagels, Sarah sped off to prep for the big night ahead. This left Jeremy and Alana to their own devices before the seven-p.m. curtain. They wandered in and out of shops, looked in bookstores for summer reads, and again squabbled gently about where they might go for their honeymoon. They’d decided to wait until October or November when the island was grim and wet and cold. They wanted to squeeze this Nantucket dry of family parties and laughter on the beaches they loved the most.
Alana and Jeremy got ready for the performance at the hotel that had served as Alana’s second home for June. The receptionist greeted her like an old friend. “It’s been a while! We’ve missed you.”
Alana wasn’t sure if she’d missed this wildlife in the city. She’d genuinely adored the previous few weeks of calm, of walking around downtown with an ice cream cone, of trying out new recipes with Jeremy and calling themselves “empty nesters” even though, really, Alana had hardly officially lived with Sarah at all. There had also been final preparations to make for the wedding, which she, Ella, Julia, and their mother had done together. Everything was falling into place. Every detail was accounted for.
Alana changed into a dark red dress that showed a little more leg than a normal forty-seven-year-old might have, but she didn’t mind. That was who she was, and she didn’t want to feel sorry for it. Jeremy wore a suit that made him look extremely handsome, but the look on his face gave away his nerves. Alana kissed him with her eyes closed and tried to translate to him just how wonderful he looked, but he said, “I’m just a washed-up football player from a little island. I work in a basement and look at records all day.” Alana laughed and swatted him. “All the women in that theater won’t be able to keep their eyes off you.”
It turned out that Alana was mostly right about that. When they entered the foyer, multiple women turned to assess the beautiful couple. Their eyes turned from Jeremy to Alana and back again. They smirked like the models Alana had once known back in her twenties, models who’d wanted Alana’s career. But Alana’s smile was serene. She understood that what she had was something special; she also knew it wasn’t just surface-deep.
“Alana!” Julia called from the opposite end of the foyer, where she stood with the rest of their family. Their father was wearing the brand-new suit he’d gotten for the press tour for his most recent novel, and he looked dapper, like a Cambridge University professor. Alana and Jeremy went around hugging everyone until an usher announced it was time to go in. Alana slipped her hand into Jeremy’s and followed him down the aisle to the fourth row, where Sarah had reserved seats for the two of them. The other Copperfields were seated a bit further away but with excellent angles on the action.
The curtain came up to reveal the set that had a downtown street with a casino, a club and an old-world bar, plus shadows of horses and people in the background, as though it was a crowded time in a forgotten era. Alana gripped Jeremy’s hand as Sarah made her big entrance. The line was something Sarah had practiced hundreds if not thousands of times back in Nantucket: “It’s one thing to be deceived. But to be so heinously directed in a direction that seems wholly alien is another thing entirely! I will never forget that man for the rest of my life. I hate him.”
The audience laughed. Sarah had said it perfectly. She’d already won over her audience. For a little while, as the play went on, Alana allowed herself to fall into the magic of the play. She allowed herself to forget that that young woman up there was her darling Sarah. She was a character in this play; she was messy and entirely un-Sarah-like. Once, when Alana glanced over at Jeremy, she caught him crying. His cheeks were gleaming with tears. She squeezed his hand harder, enraptured with him and his sensitivity and the power of his love.
“That’s my little girl,” he said when it was over. “I can’t believe it. She did it.”
“She really did,” Alana said.