Will laughed.“Our Stevie Franklin was always more capable than that.She’ll make it here before we know it.And if I know her like I think I do, she’ll have a bunch of hilarious stories to fill in the gaps between now and when we last saw her.”
Ella smiled nervously.“I hope you’re right.”
* * *
By three that afternoon, Laura’s morning sickness had cleared, and she was fresh-faced and funny, sitting in the kitchen of the Copperfield House, helping Ella, Alana, Julia, and her Grandma Greta with the upcoming Christmas party.She had a notepad out and was scribbling notes, making sure nothing was forgotten.The party was already less than two weeks away.Things were falling into place.
Although Greta planned to make most of the food, a catering company had been hired to fill in the gaps.A few hotels down the beach, all of which were empty for the season, had set aside rooms to accommodate all the guests who couldn’t stay at the Copperfield House post-party.Most RSVPs had been received, with an acceptance rate higher than Greta had expected—82 percent.
“People don’t have grand Christmas parties anymore,” Greta said, smiling to herself.As though it were an afterthought, she got up and began to slice vegetables and fruits, all of which she slid into a blender.
“Mom, what are you doing?”Alana asked, cocking her head.“Are you juicing?”
Greta cackled.“Juicing is a modern-day thing.Nothing about me is modern.”
“You’re a modern woman,” Julia said.“Anyone who reads your books knows that.”
“Okay, sure.Maybe my ideas were always somewhere north of modern.Maybe the rest of the world has finally caught up,” Greta agreed.“But the fact is, what’s been good for pregnant women since the dawn of time is still good for pregnant women.And here my granddaughter sits, working her tail off for my Christmas party, getting more and more pregnant by the day.I’m going to make sure she has all the nutrients she needs.”
Laura’s cheeks were inflamed.“Grandma, you don’t need to do that.”
“Let her do it,” Alana said.“You know there’s no stopping Greta Copperfield when she has her mind set on something.”
“You should have seen me trying to delete one of her chapters last week,” Julia joked.“I thought Mom was going to bite my head off.”
In an act of either bravery or idiocy, Julia was the editor for both of their parents’ manuscripts, helping to secure both Bernard’s and Greta’s places in literary history.But Ella guessed that their parents weren’t always so kind about Julia’s ideas.She guessed it was a struggle.The fact that everyone was still talking (after everything that had happened in their family!) was proof of their great love for each other.
They weren’t willing to give up.
Suddenly, Greta clapped her hands.“I have a wonderful idea.”
“Uh-oh,” Alana joked.
“Alana, you’d better quit it with that attitude,” Greta teased, her eyes flashing.“What I want to happen is this.Laura, I want you to drink up your nutrients.And then, I want to make a single batch of Christmas cookies.Maybe lemon bars?Peanut butter blossoms?After that, I want us to get cozy under blankets, turn on a Christmas movie, and forget about all this party nonsense for the time being.Your father and the others can figure out their own dinners tonight.”
Ella watched her daughter’s face transform.Greta smacked the fruit and vegetable smoothie in front of her, gestured for her to drink, and Laura did, wrinkling her nose till it was finished.By then, Alana and Julia had dug all the fuzzy blankets from the closet and created a cozy universe of sofas and chairs in the living room.A fire crackled in the fireplace, glinting orange and red against the logs.The big-screen television was prepped with the first Christmas movie of the season:The Holiday, starring Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Jack Black, and Cameron Diaz.
Laura collapsed on the sofa, pulled a blanket up to her chin, and flickered her eyes to let Ella know she wanted her to sit beside her.It was a language only a mother and daughter fully knew.Ella did so, crossing her legs beneath her.
Greta bustled in to announce that the cookies were in the oven.“The timer’s set!Let’s get the movie started!I’m ready!”
Alana raised the remote and pressed Play.And as the six Copperfield women nestled deeper into their blankets, watching a gorgeous story unfold before them, more and more snow piled up on the roof and filled the walkways and coated the sandy beach outside.The island was blanketed in white.The sky was quiet.
ChapterSix
The Upper East Side apartment where Grayson spent his days in the city still smelled like Grayson’s father, even so many years after his death.Grayson sat in the kitchen over a plate of eggs and spinach, watching the snow fall gently past the window.The eggs were getting cold, and the skillet in which he’d cooked them was hardening with muck.But Grayson couldn’t bring himself to eat, nor to clean, nor to do anything but sit with his hands folded beneath his chin.He was listening intently to Ella and Will’s music—the song he wanted for the anti-plastic initiative commercial, as well as brand-new tracks that Will said they hadn’t allowed anyone to listen to yet.
It felt remarkable to be handed secret songs that no one had heard yet.It felt remarkable to be trusted with someone’s art like this.
The music transported Grayson back through time, back through the decades, back to an age and an era in which he hadn’t had a care in the world, save for what concert he wanted to go to next and where he wanted to eat.Although he’d been born into tremendous wealth and into the tradition of “son takes over for father’s business,” Grayson had always prided himself on thinking outside the box, on searching for people and stories and art outside of that which he’d discovered in his father’s orbit.
Back when he’d first discovered Ella and Will’s music, he’d been living in this very apartment as a newly single man.He’d come to New York City from his family’s base in Paris, ready to begin a brand-new life for himself.He’d been enamored with the energy of the city, the grit and the art and the loud music.He’d eaten a greasy burger and nearly cried with love.
It was amazing what music could do to you.It was incredible where it let your brain race off to.
And then, Grayson was yanked back to the modern age.The phone rang.It was his soon-to-be ex-wife, Genevieve.Hearing from her was never a good thing.
“Hello.”Genevieve’s tone was chilly.“I hope I am not disturbing anything?”
