Mr. Callahan nods his head reluctantly and puts on his shoes.
“Think they’ll card me?” he says. We both laugh, even though it wasn’t that funny. We have to find little ways to smile. No matter how strong you are, no matter how smart you are or tough you can be, the world will find a way to break you. And when it does, the only thing you can do is hold on.
When Mr. Callahan and I get to the bar, he goes straight for the bartender. I hang back for a minute before I meet him. I breathe in and out. I look at what’s around me. A guy comes up to me and asks what a gorgeous girl like me is doing here during a happy hour. He asks if he can buy me a drink.
I don’t say yes, but I also don’t punch him in the face. Mr. Callahan agrees with me that I’m making progress. Plus, New Year’s Eve is just around the corner, and who knows what the year will bring.
JUNE
We woke up in the hotel room in Las Vegas. The bed was wide; the sheets were luxurious. There was a Jacuzzi bathtub within four steps of the bed. The bright shining sun was already finding its way through the curtains, peeking around the edges and through the middle. My life had never felt so exciting, so full of possibilities.
Ben was still asleep when I woke up. I just watched him sleep. I put my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I read the news on my cell phone. Even the most ordinary things felt like Christmas morning to me. Everything had this tint of peace to it. I turned on the TV and watched it at a low volume while Ben slept next to me. I waited for him to wake up.
When it got to be 11:00 a.m., I turned to him and lightly shook him awake.
“Wake up, baby,” I said. “We have to get up soon.”
Ben barely woke from his stupor. He put his arm around me and buried his face in his pillow.
“Come on, Husband,” I said to him. “You gotta get up.”
He opened his eyes and smiled at me. He lifted his mouth off the pillow and said, “What’s the rush, honey? We have all the time in the world.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe a great deal of thanks to my agent, Carly Watters, and my editor, Greer Hendricks. You both saw what I was trying to do, you believed in this story, and you made it better, brighter, and more heartbreaking. Thank you. And thank you to Sarah Cantin at Atria for your faith in this book. You are the gatekeeper and it’s you who let me through.
I also want to thank the friends who cheered me on along the way: Erin Cox, Julia Furlan, Jesse Hill, Andy Bauch, Jess Reynoso, Colin and Ashley Rodger, Emily Giorgio, Bea Arthur, Caitlin Doyle, Tim Pavlik, Kate Sullivan, Phillip Jordan, Tamara Hunter, and Sara Arrington. Your collective faith in me made me stupid enough to think I could do this.
It’s crucial that I acknowledge the bosses and teachers who believed in me: Frank Calore, Andrew Crick, Edith Hill, Sarah Finn, and Randi Hiller. I am so grateful to have had you all as mentors in my life.
Thank you to the Beverly Hills Public Library for giving me a quiet place to write that sells delicious fudge and strong iced tea, and to the community at Polytechnic School for being so supportive.
I cannot let this opportunity go by without mentioning the man who lost the love of his life and posted about it on Craigslist. You, sir, are a far more beautiful writer than I and the tenderness with which you speak brings me to tears every time I read your post. And I’ve read it a lot.
To the Reid and Hanes families, thank you for embracing me with the warmth you have.
To Martha Steeves, you will always be in my heart.
I have endless gratitude for the Jenkins and Morris families. To my mother, Mindy, my brother, Jake, and my grandmother, Linda: Your belief that I can do anything I set my mind to is why I believe it. I can’t think of a greater gift to give a person.
And lastly, to Alex Reid, the man who taught me how a perfectly sane woman can fall madly in love and get married in a matter of months: Thank you for being the inspiration for every love story I find myself writing.