I’ve learned along the way and want to pass on to you. Love letters to my little girl. I’ll put them all together in a book and keep it for you. And if for any reason I can’t tell you these important lessons in person, you’ll still have my words, so you’ll never have to wonder what I would say.
I won’t waste time on silly or frivolous lessons, only the ones that mean the most to me, so if this book falls into your hands, I hope you’ll give it the attention it deserves.
I’m not a wise woman. Most people wouldn’t call me a woman at all, not yet anyway . . . but I’m learning so many things about myself, and bringing another person into the world has made me grow up fast. I want to be the best mom I can for you, Emily. It’s you and me against the world.
And you know what? I’m terrified. But I’m going to do the very best job I can. I know I’ll make mistakes, but hopefully you’ll forgive me. I never knew how much love I had to give until I held you in my arms.
And PS—I’ll do my best to keep Alan and Eliza off your back . . . mostly I’m guessing they’ll want to stay on mine!
Love you so much,
Mom (It’s so weird to write that!)
Chapter One
Emily Ackerman hummed when she was nervous. No particular song, just whatever melody popped into her head. At that moment, it was the Harry Connick Jr. version of “It Had to Be You,” the one in the old movie When Harry Met Sally. Her mom’s favorite.
The bouncy melody danced around her mind as she closed her eyes and pretended she was anywhere but on the ferry from Hyannis to Nantucket. She made her living pretending, and she’d traveled the globe for the last ten years—why was this so hard?
She leaned her head back, thinking only of the song—of Harry’s smooth, sultry voice—but instead of going blank, her mind wrapped itself around a memory. Her mother, dancing on “their” beach, singing “It Had to Be You” at the top of her lungs while Emily dug her feet in the cool sand and giggled at her silliness.
Emily opened her eyes and found a little boy with dark hair and big brown eyes staring at her.
“You’re loud,” he said.
“Andrew, that’s not polite.” The boy’s mother wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer. “I’m so sorry. We’re working on manners.”
Emily smiled at him. “Sorry. Sometimes I get lost in my own world.”
“Me too,” Andrew said. “I have an imaginary friend named Kenton.”
Emily widened her eyes. “I had an imaginary friend when I was little!” She tried to sound more excited than she felt. She was an actress. It wasn’t that hard.
And yet, for some reason, it left her feeling hollow.
“Mom says people will think I’m out of my mind if I keep talking to myself.”
Andrew’s mother gave him a squeeze. “Andrew, let’s leave the nice lady alone.”
Lady? Emily knew the other side of thirty was a downhill slope, but when people started calling you “lady,” you might as well sign up for AARP.
“I’m Andrew,” the boy said. Then he looked at his mother and blinked. “See? That’s manners.” Then back to Emily. “Now you tell me your name.”
“I’m Emily.”
“Mom says I’m not supposed to call grown-ups by their first name.”
“Oh.” Emily glanced at the boy’s mother, whose expression was a cross between amused and apologetic. “I guess you can call me Miss Ackerman.”
“Miss Ackerman,” Andrew said. “Nice to meet you.”
Emily decided she liked this boy. She hoped he didn’t lose his charm as he got older, and she hoped even more that he remained genuine. So many men she’d known were the exact opposite. Not a single one worth holding on to.
Especially not Max, who, she was convinced, had never told her one honest thing the entire time they were together. Not that it mattered really. Emily’s rules were set up to protect her from getting too attached. She’d never stick around long enough to find out if a man’s motives were impure—three months and she was off. Max had taken their breakup harder than she’d expected. He’d actually cried.
Ugh. The memory of it made her feel like such a jerk.
Emily exhaled. She’d been doing so well. Why did she have to go and think about Max?
The regret wound its way back in, and she could feel her cheeks flush at the memory