bed and admit that it was the end of vacation. Claire was a little sad to leave, but also excited to get back to her new apartment, to spend time there. The apartment was new enough that it didn’t quite feel like hers yet. She still had the sense when she opened the door that she was walking into an unfamiliar place. It didn’t bother her, though. She knew that would change soon enough. She knew that one day, she’d walk in and it would be like she belonged there. All of the dust and dirt would be what she created, the smell would be her own. And she would be able to walk barefoot everywhere without thinking that someone else’s foot germs were there. It would be like no one else had ever lived there before, like no one else would be there after; it would feel like home.
Maureen went into the house and came out carrying a new bottle of wine. “Just one more splash for everyone,” she said. “It’s our last night here, we can’t go to bed early.”
They all obeyed, holding out their glasses like children, while Maureen stood in the middle of the circle, turning and pouring. Claire wrapped the blanket a little bit more up around Nina’s face, even though it wasn’t cold out. Will was talking about his new teaching schedule, listing all of the things he had to do to get ready as soon as they got back.
It was quiet for a few moments, and Claire could tell that everyone was getting sleepy. But then Martha started talking about her job again, explaining how her patient sometimes tried to sneak away from her in the store. And they all turned to her to listen, gave her full attention, and watched her as she said, “I have to chase her down, scream her name in the supermarket like a crazy person.” Martha looked pleased as everyone laughed, then looked down at her lap for a moment and twisted her hands around, like a middle school girl, embarrassed by the attention. They were all silent for a few seconds, waiting. And then she recovered and went on.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For my husband, Tim Hartz, who lets me take over the dining room table with piles of papers for weeks at a time and talk about my characters over dinner—when I come out of my writing haze, I’m so happy that you’re the one there to greet me. Thanks for everything, friend. I think marrying you was a good decision.
My agent, Sam Hiyate, always, always believes in my writing and in me, which means more than I can ever say.
As far as editors go, Jenny Jackson is the very best. She is thoughtful and wise in her edits, so fun to gossip with, and always starts e-mails to me by saying, “this is a no-pressure e-mail.” For all of these reasons (and because she makes my books better), I am delighted to know her.
I am a lucky writer to have such a great family. My parents, Pat and Jack Close, are the best cheerleaders ever. They are willing to attend multiple readings, assure me things will work out if I get nervous (Mom), and try to sell my book to strangers (that’s you, Dad). Thanks, you guys.
Kevin Close, Chris and Susan Close, and Carol and Scott Hartz are a constant support and eager readers. I couldn’t ask for more.
My adorable and brilliant niece, Ava Close, responded to the cover art for this book by saying, “Ooooh, Santa.” Ava, I am always happy to have your honest feedback.
Wrigley Close-Hartz keeps me company while I write and also makes sure that I get outside at least once a day, by demanding his walk.
I AM ALSO GRATEFUL TO:
All of my students at George Washington University, who remind me of why I wanted to be a writer in the first place.
Tom Mallon, who was kind enough to give me a job teaching creative writing at GW.
My virtual coworkers—all of the people who make my days a little less lonely, by chatting over e-mail, answering writing questions, reading drafts, and always offering encouragement: Megan Angelo, Jessica Liebman, Martha Leonard, Lee Goldberg, Courtney Sullivan, and Molly Erman.
Moriah Cleveland is forever willing to talk to me about imaginary people as though they were real. There is no first reader/e-mail companion that I would rather have. You are invaluable.
My friends are constantly telling me funny things, and sometimes I have to steal bits of their dialogue