Page 1 of Nantucket Longing

ChapterOne

Madeline

February 2019

Madeline Willis was a shoo-in for the Juilliard School of Music.During the weeks leading up to the audition, she wasn’t panicked in the slightest and practiced the same eight to ten hours she always had during the entirety of her startling junior professional career.By contrast, her competitors were cramming in twelve-to-thirteen-hour days, sweating at the keys and aching for a future that wasn’t necessarily promised to them.Like Madeline, Madeline’s teacher wasn’t nervous, either.“I’ve never been so laissez-faire before a student’s audition,” Mrs.Gillian Everett told her one afternoon during a lesson.“My colleagues are telling me that your audition’s just for show.The name ‘Madeline Willis’ has already been in the Juilliard books for years.It’s your destiny, my girl.”At this, Madeline didn’t know what to say, so she turned back around and played one of her Juilliard audition pieces, a Schumann that often brought Mrs.Everett to her knees.When she finished, Mrs.Everett said, “You play like you’re thirty-three years old!”Madeline was only seventeen.

It felt as though everything was about to change.But Madeline was ready for it.Wasn’t it everything she’d always been working for?

It was true that ever since she’d touched a piano at age four, she’d felt something of a magical connection.Her fingers streamed across the keys, and Madeline’s ears were attuned to exactly where the music was meant to go next.When Madeline was five years old, her mother hired a piano teacher, and by seven, she was already winning piano competitions across the state of Michigan and the greater Midwest.At eleven, Madeline left school to pursue piano full-time, and her mother worked odd jobs to pay for her piano lessons and competition fees.Of course, plenty of Madeline’s competitions paid out big time, sometimes as much as ten thousand dollars, but all that money was funneled back into Madeline’s burgeoning career and rent for their two-bedroom house in Grand Rapids, Michigan.Madeline went junior pro at fourteen, and at fifteen, she even spent a summer at Juilliard, where she worked with some of the teachers who would one day surely be her Juilliard professors.It had been a wonderful, if lonely, summer, one during which she’d expected to make friends and had instead practiced twelve hours a day and developed anemia.

The week before the Juilliard audition, Madeline’s mother, Diana, took her out to shop for a new dress and bought her lunch afterward, telling her, for the first time in maybe twelve years, that Madeline could order whatever she wanted.Usually, Diana kept Madeline on a strict salad and soup diet, reminding her that classical musicians were required to look a certain way.With the faintest of Polish accents, Diana liked to say, “I didn’t make the rules, but we have to follow them if we’re going to make it in this industry.”Madeline was floored.The menu was suddenly like a jungle she had to wade through: burgers and french fries; milkshakes and chocolate cake; chicken tenders and onion rings and patty melts.How could she possibly choose?Her mouth was watering.But when the server came to take their order, Madeline glanced up to see her mother watching her.Something about her mother’s gaze was so sinister.Madeline suddenly realized this was a test.She turned to the server and ordered a salad and a Diet Coke.Her mother ordered the same and beamed at Madeline.“We have to take care of our bodies, don’t we?”Diana asked.

The night before they left for the Juilliard audition, Madeline packed her suitcase and got on social media, where she followed a number of other top-rated junior musicians, many of whom were documenting their Juilliard auditions online.Several of the pianists were people Madeline had tried to befriend over the years—Sally from Iowa, Francine from Texas, and Addison from Seattle.However, because the girls were competitive, and Madeline had taken the top spot in every national competition since the age of twelve, the girls weren’t exactly keen on being Madeline’s friend.Madeline knew some of them didn’t even follow her back on social media.But Madeline had long since given up on making friends with anyone.Maybe at Juilliard, she’d manage to befriend someone in another field—a cellist or a trombonist or, heck, an actress who didn’t know the first thing about music theory or practicing for ten-plus hours per day.Maybe Madeline needed to get out there on her own to figure out who she was beyond the piano, and then she could figure out how to have friends.

But all that had to happen after she got into Juilliard.

At six the following morning, Diana drove them to the Lansing Airport, where they boarded a plane that took them east.Diana rented a car and swept them all the way to campus, where, armed with numerous snacks and water bottles, Madeline popped out of the car and went immediately to a practice room to snag at least seven hours.Tomorrow was the audition, and Madeline couldn’t afford to miss a day.Inside the practice room, which smelled of a fresh coat of paint and the old wood of the piano, Madeline turned off her cell phone and fell into practice mode, wherein she completely forgot about herself, her life, and her body.She became one with the music.When she left the practice room, night had fallen, and Diana’s rental car was waiting for her at the curb.Madeline got in.Diana drove them to the hotel not far from campus, where they immediately ran into Sally from Iowa and her mother and father, all of whom faked joy at seeing Diana and Madeline.But at the sight of Madeline—the biggest competition—Sally’s mother’s eyes glinted orange.“Good luck, Madeline,” she said before they disappeared into the elevator, “but I imagine you don’t need it!”

Madeline couldn’t help but feel as though she’d just been cursed.

That night, Mrs.Everett joined them for dinner at the hotel restaurant, where she ordered a burger and fries, and Madeline ate a piece of salmon with broccoli.Mrs.Everett looked excited, perhaps because Madeline’s performances always reflected her work as a teacher.She wiped her hands on a napkin and said, “I think I feel like a glass of wine.Diana, would you join me?”Diana did.As the two older women drank and chatted, Madeline sat glumly, picking at her broccoli and waiting for the night to be over.When it was, Mrs.Everett hugged her hard and said, “See you tomorrow, honey.”

It was decided that Mrs.Everett would pick Madeline up from the hotel the following morning at eight thirty.Madeline’s audition was set for two p.m.This would give Diana time to get a little work done before she had to come down to campus and watch.These days, Diana worked almost exclusively online, which allowed her to cavort around the United States and Europe with her famous pianist daughter.But she liked to tell Madeline how difficult it was to “get into my work brain” when Madeline was around “distracting her.”Madeline was never sure how exactly she distracted her mother.She was very used to sitting in rooms quietly.She knew never to bother her mother when she was seated in front of her laptop.But she knew better than to argue with Diana about something she seemed so sure about.

The day started out as normal as any other.Mrs.Everett picked Madeline up and drove her to campus, where Madeline checked herself in at the front desk before disappearing into a practice room to warm up for a few hours.At noon, she ate a little salad in the dining hall, watching other Juilliard hopefuls stream through.Some of them had already performed that morning, and she could tell how confident they felt about their performances based on their appearance.Some of them were teary-eyed and red-faced.Some of them kept glancing up at their parents as though frightened their parents would strike them on the shoulder.Others walked slowly and confidently, their eyes sharp and sinister.One of them was Sally from Iowa, whose mother couldn’t stop hugging her and saying, “You did it, honey.You left it all out on the line.”

It would take another six weeks before any of them knew if they’d gotten in.But Madeline understood that “feeling” you got when you knew you’d aced something.She’d always known when she was going to win a competition.She’d always known when she’d had the judges wrapped around her fingers.She assumed Sally did, too.

At one, Diana texted Madeline to say she was on her way.The plan was to meet in the practice room, where Diana and Madeline would perform their private ritual, which involved praying and saying positive affirmations, after which Diana would give Madeline a pep talk.It was what they always did before one of Madeline’s big performances.Madeline loved it.She loved the intensity of her mother’s gaze and knowing that it was just her and her mother against the world.She loved holding her mother’s hand and squeezing it and thinking,I’ll perform perfectly.My mother has sacrificed so much for my career.The least I can do is be great.

The hotel was only ten minutes away.But by one thirty, Madeline was still on her own in the practice room with her heart in her throat.She was performing arpeggios over and over again, making herself crazy.Where was her mother?Had she gotten held up?Madeline tried to picture her at a gas station, maybe packing another few healthy snacks?But it was far too late for Madeline to eat anything.She didn’t like to perform on a full stomach.

Maybe her mother had gotten the time wrong?Perhaps she’d thought the performance was at three rather than two?Madeline tried calling her mother, but the phone rang and rang, and nobody answered.Her palms were sweaty.Finally, there was a knock on the door.But rather than Diana, Mrs.Everett appeared, her smile too big for her face.“It’s about time to line up outside.”Madeline bristled.She got to her feet and clasped her hands in front of her chest.

“My mom isn’t here yet,” she explained.

“I’m sure she’s on her way.She never misses your performance.”

“But we always do a thing,” Madeline continued, gesturing vaguely in the empty practice room.Why did she feel like a young fool?Like a little kid who needed a doll or a blankie?“She’s always here before.”

“Whatever it is, honey, we don’t have time,” Mrs.Everett said.“It’s Juilliard.They run a tight ship around here.We can’t have you missing your audition.”

Madeline’s eyes filled with tears.She considered clinging to the piano until Mrs.Everett had her forcibly removed from the practice room.“She’s almost here,” Madeline said, her voice wavering.“We should wait.”

Mrs.Everett’s face turned a strange shade of green.Madeline knew better than to protest again.Muttering a soft apology, she left the practice room and followed Mrs.Everett, streaming through hallways until they reached the door that led to the grand audition hall.Not everyone was allowed inside—only the judges, a few teachers, and family.As she hovered outside the door, Madeline could hear the person before her auditioning with Rachmaninoff.It was a piece Madeline had mastered two years ago, and her performance of it had won her five thousand dollars at a Pacific Northwest contest.She knew every note in her bones.Her heart pounded.A strange part of her prayed that the person in front of her would make a mistake, but the auditioner knew the piece just as well as she did and kept going till the startling conclusion.Whoever was inside the audition room applauded for as long as they were allowed.After that, there was nothing but silence.Madeline turned to gaze down the long hallway, waiting for her mother.Surely, she was here already, right around the corner.Or maybe her mother had been forced to sit in the audition room already?Perhaps Madeline would walk into the room and see her mother waiting behind the judges with two thumbs up?

The door cracked open, and Madeline’s name was read.Mrs.Everett squeezed her shoulders and whispered, “You’ve got this, kid.Break a leg.”

On the other side of the door was a stage upon which sat a grand piano glowing underneath a massive light.Madeline stared at the piano, her legs quivering beneath her.Never had she been so nervous.Never had she felt so sure that nothing was right.

ChapterTwo

Madeline

June 2025

It was three days after the Nantucket Gala, and Madeline Willis was in the kitchen of The Copperfield House, looking out the window as Henry Crawford jogged shirtless down the beach in buttercream sunlight.Across the table from Madeline was Greta Copperfield, Henry’s grandmother and the “house mom” of the artist residency.Greta’s brow was furrowed; she was reading over new pages she’d written for her next novel and editing as she went.It was a rare treat to see Greta at work like this.Normally, she was sequestered upstairs, careful to keep her writing life separate from her residence life and her art away from the prying eyes of the residents.But for whatever reason, Greta had come to trust Madeline, at least a little bit.It warmed Madeline’s heart, but it also frightened her.She still wasn’t sure how to get close to anyone, and she didn’t want to disappoint Greta, not after Greta had shown her such kindness.

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