“Thank you,” she said, feeling meek.
“Dinner isn’t for a little while,” Greta said, turning toward the little table, where she’d laid a beautiful quiche, croissants, Christmas cookies, and a cheeseboard.“But I put out a few snacks here if you want to eat a little something.I know you’ve been on the road for quite some time.I’d be starving.”
In actuality, Stevie wasn’t hungry in the slightest.She was too overwhelmed with the generosity and warmth of the Copperfield House.Not wanting to be rude, she loaded her plate with quiche and cheese and watched as Greta poured beautiful glasses of French wine for the three of them.
“Mom’s a Francophile,” Ella explained, smiling at her mother.
“They do everything better than we do.”Greta shrugged, as though there was nothing to be done about it save for celebrating what the French had done for wine, for food.
Stevie raised her glass and clinked it with Greta’s and Ella’s.But as she searched her mind for something to say, some way to express how grateful she was, more people piled into the Copperfield House: Ella’s sisters Julia and Alana, Ella’s daughter Laura, their niece Scarlet (who Stevie could see was quite a trip), and their brother’s wife, Catherine.Stevie was overwhelmed with names and hugs.
“We saw your video online!”Laura said, sitting beside Stevie and taking a Christmas cookie from the pile.“That voice, Stevie.I mean, you’re just as good as she always was.Maybe better.”
Stevie laughed.“Nobody’s ever said ‘just as good.’I’m certainly not better.But I practiced to sing like her when I was younger, and it stuck.”
“But your voice is unique, too,” Greta interjected.“It’s got something that’s mysteriously yours.”
“Mom was saying you might go perform tonight,” Laura said.
Stevie blinked up at Ella, surprised.“I don’t know about that.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for it,” Ella admitted.“I know how hard the past few days have been.But there’s an open mic night that Will and I sometimes go to.We like to try out new material and see how the audience reacts.”
“Not that there’s much of an audience in December on Nantucket.”Alana winked.Stevie could already sense that Alana was the moody beauty queen of the family, the one most difficult to get along with.But Stevie adored her.Stevie herself had never been easy to get along with, not when she’d been younger and certainly not now.
“We thought, you know, we could improv together,” Ella said.“Will and I have a few new songs we want to try out, and you said you’ve been writing on the road…”
Stevie felt a smile quiver over her lips.The Copperfield women’s energy was infectious.She felt she had to ride whatever wave this was.“Why not?”she said, laughing at herself.
“It’s settled then!”Greta cried.“But first, we’ll get some more food in you.I’ve prepared a feast.”She opened the oven to remove chicken a l’orange, far more food than Stevie had reckoned for.She now understood what those sensational smells had been.
Her stomach churned with all the food she’d already put into it.
Under her breath, Laura said, “You have to expand your stomach if you’re going to live here.Grandma feeds everyone till they’re stuffed.And the problem is, it’s all so delicious, you really can’t say no.It’s impossible.”
Stevie laughed, thinking of her typical meals of frozen dinners, sandwiches, pieces of toast, and cans of beans.As Greta ushered them to the dining room, she called out through the house, alerting anyone home that it was time to eat.Ella sidled up beside Stevie, grinning.Stevie could still see the twenty-year-old that Ella had once been, the bouncy and excited and musically arrogant young woman.Life had had its way with both of them, Stevie knew.But Ella had found her family again.Ella had landed on her feet.
* * *
Hours later, after what felt like the most nourishing and flavorful French dinner of Stevie’s life, and countless conversations and bouts of laughter, Stevie, Ella, and Will set up on stage at a little venue in Nantucket’s Historical Society.It felt impossible that the already stuffed night wasn’t finished just yet.
Just as Alana had suggested, not many were at the venue tonight.It was mostly Nantucket locals eager to get warm over a couple of beers as yet another snowstorm raged outside.But as Stevie finished adjusting the microphone, more and more people wandered into the bar, filling in the gaps and beaming up at them.It didn’t take long for Stevie to realize that they were Copperfields, each and every one of them.She glanced back at Ella and raised her eyebrows.
“You really have a crew, Ella.”She laughed.
Ella shrugged.“We couldn’t get rid of them if we tried.”
Although they’d warmed up only minimally, Stevie found it easy to slip into Ella and Will’s music.Soon, she and Ella were harmonizing, their voices lifting into the rafters while Will lost it on the drums, moving seamlessly over bass, snare, and hi-hat.It was Stevie’s fourth performance in a week, which was the kind of record she hadn’t enjoyed since she was twenty years old.It reminded her what it meant to be alive and take chances.As she finished their final song with a rattling cry, every person in the audience got to their feet to applaud.
Ella and Will came to the front of the stage to take Stevie’s hand and deliver a funny group bow.Stevie spotted Laura, not far from the stage, filming the entire thing.Laura beamed over her screen, gazing at her mother.Stevie felt a rush of resentment, one that she immediately swallowed down.Just because Ella had a nice relationship with her daughter and Stevie’s daughter refused to talk to her didn’t mean that Stevie needed to carry ill will toward any of them.
Jealousy was a powerful thing.
After their performance, Ella suggested they stick around for a while to watch a few of the other musicians.Stevie agreed, too exhilarated from their show to go back to her room at the Copperfield House residency.Plus, she hadn’t had the chance to properly catch up with Ella yet.She sensed they had a thousand things to say to one another.
One after another, the other Copperfields abandoned the venue, passing by Stevie and Ella to wish them well and congratulate them.Bernard, Ella’s father, was fast-becoming Stevie’s favorite.He grinned happily, his cheeks bright red behind his large beard.“That was the very best gig I’ve ever attended,” he said.“And I’ve seen Bob Dylan fifteen times!”
Stevie laughed.“You can’t compare us to one of the best musicians of all time.”
