All Unquiet Things (38 page)

“He should do it for you.”

“Yeah, he should.” She kicked at some pebbles on the ground. “I got a letter from my mom a couple of months ago. She sent it to my grandparents’ house. Apparently they’re talking again.”

“Yeah?”

“Turns out she’s been living in Bakersfield for the past year or so.” Audrey gave a little uncomfortable laugh. “She has a boyfriend, and a house. And a dog, which is sort of annoying because she would never let me have one. She sent me a picture.”

“Did you answer the letter?”

“Nope.” She gazed at me. “Thought about it, but couldn’t. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No way. The fact that you thought about it, that’s step one. You’ll get there when you’re ready. Or you won’t, but that still won’t make you a bad person. In my opinion, we’ve both racked up enough good karma to last a lifetime.”

She smiled. “I’ve missed you. You should call me more.”

“You
should call
me
more,” I countered.

“Fair. But I didn’t know if you wanted to talk to me, or see me.”

“So you came down here to surprise me with an unwanted visit?” I teased.

“I wanted to see you, and I figured that if I left it to you I never would,” she said. “I stopped by your place. Harvey told me you’d be here.”

“I wish I had known you were coming; I would’ve taken the day off. I’d just bail, but the boss man would fire me, and I like to eat, so …”

“Daddy’s not bankrolling the whole vagabond thing?”

“Well, he wasn’t so thrilled about some of my choices.”

“Speaking of, how’s San Diego State?”

“I like it. Great place to meet chicks.”

“Such a romantic.”

“Plus, my roommate doesn’t walk around wearing a
semper ubi sub ubi
T-shirt, so I can’t complain.”

“He does follow that advice, though, right?”

“As far as I know. So what are your plans for the day while I toil on this here dinghy?” I asked, patting the hull of the
Sea Breeze
.

“Does it leak?”

“Not on my watch.”

“Well, perhaps I’ll join you. Strictly in a leisure capacity, of course—you can fan me and feed me grapes.”

“Dream on.”

She laughed, the open, happy laugh of a healing heart, and I got a flash of who she would be when she got older. It was only a flash—I couldn’t reproduce it in words for anything—but it left me feeling safe, and that’s something.

Audrey flung her arm around my shoulder. “So where are we headed? Someplace exotic? Uncharted waters?”

“Coronado,” I said.

She pretended to consider it. “Good enough.”

When we were fourteen, Carly and I took turns reading to each other from
The Winter’s Tale
, and while Carly favored the quote that Paul had etched on her gravestone, I found comfort in another:
What’s gone and what’s past help should be past grief
. Carly wrote it in her diary, in one of those passages where she talked about how she still loved me, and I can think of no other reason why she would do this unless she really believed that what she and I had, what she had destroyed, was not past help. And so she grieved. And so I grieved. But the truth of the matter is that it’s over now, so I no longer grieve—I only hope. That hope is enough for me.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’ve come to the conclusion that the longer it takes to write a book, the more people you are indebted to for having helped you write it, even if they have no idea how they’ve done so. Since it took me six and a half years to write this book, a period that, for me, has encompassed three universities, three degrees, nine residences, five cities in four states, three computers, six jobs, and countless friends, family members, and teachers, I have a lot of people to thank:

My parents, Jim and Barbara Jarzab; my brother, James; my sister, Alicia, and my cousin, Emma Molinare, who together are my first and most reliable readers. Christine and Mike Molinare and Helena Bieniewski, for their love, support, and encouragement, and the extended use of their guest bedrooms, as well as the rest of my family—I couldn’t hope for a better one.

My wonderful agent and friend, Joanna MacKenzie—this book is truly hers as well as mine—and Danielle Egan-Miller, whose notes on the manuscript were incredibly helpful, although it seems that, try as I might, I will never fully break my dependence on dashes, as evidenced by the last two paragraphs.

My editor, Françoise Bui, whose enthusiasm for this book and faith in me were a touchstone during all those moments (and they were numerous) when I felt like a total hack, and everyone at Delacorte Press, for their support, excitement, and hard work.

The faculty and staff of the University of Chicago, where this novel was reborn, especially my thesis adviser, Nic Pizzolatto, and my preceptor/cheerleader, Jon Enfield.

Carol Fitzgerald and everybody at The Book Report Network, especially Wiley, world’s best boss.

My roommate, Eesha, who always takes time out from saving the world to wax poetical with me about life and love.

Brendan and the entire Dempsey’s staff for making me feel at home.

My best friend, Cambria, who read many versions of this story, gave invaluable feedback, and encouraged me not to give up on it.

And, finally, the rest of my friends: Kim, Jenny, Maggie, Scott, Eric, Carmen, Shannel, Brigitte, Nickie, Abby, Nikki, Doug, Brett, Monica, Mary, Alex, Marisa, David, Brian, and Sandra, who fill my life with laughter and never threaten to sue me for stealing their best lines. God love ya.

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Anna Jarzab
grew up entirely in the suburbs, first outside Chicago and then in San Francisco’s East Bay area, where
All Unquiet Things
is set. She graduated from Santa Clara University, earned her master’s degree from the University of Chicago, and currently lives in New York City. This is her first novel. Visit Anna online at
www.annajarzab.com
.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2010 by Anna Jarzab

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Jarzab, Anna.
All unquiet things / Anna Jarzab.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: After the death of his ex-girlfriend Carly, northern California high school student Neily joins forces with Carly’s cousin Audrey to try to solve her murder.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89407-7
[1. Murder—Fiction. 2. Social classes—Fiction. 3. Interpersonal relations-Fiction. 4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. California, Northern—Fiction. 7. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.J2968A1 2010
[Fic]—dc22       2009011557           

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