Stalker Girl (27 page)

“Just Irish people who drop a lot of f-bombs, which you can hardly even hear because of their accents,” he said in a bad Irish brogue.

Isabelle seems to be making better use of her weekend nights, too. She’s started going to readings and other literary things around the city. She’s not exactly cheery, but she seems to be coming out of her funk. Tonight she’s staying home to finish packing.

She’s found a better, if not perfect, apartment. One of Val’s aunts is going back to Puerto Rico to open a branch of the family restaurant—NYSJ—and subletting her two-bedroom to Isabelle. It’s still temporary, but they expect it to be at least two years. And it has the added advantage of being upstairs from Val. Maybe she and Carly will avoid the fate of so many high-school friends who drift apart when they leave for college.

“Yes, let’s go,” Carly says to Jess. She reaches over, opens the zipper on her Turkey-bound duffel, and slips the notebook in. She’s not ready to read this artifact from her not-so-distant past. She’s not sure she ever will be. But she’s not going to destroy it, either.

There’s a lot to be learned from the past. And there are still a lot of blank pages.

Huge thanks to Tracey Adams of Adams Literary for her patience and wise counsel, and to Joy Peskin for saying “No,” then “No,” and then “Yes!” Thanks to Nancy Brennan for designing a cover that captures the story so well; to Janet Pascal (and Janet Frick) for making me think about every word; and to the sales and marketing folks at Penguin Young Readers Group for their energy and enthusiasm.

 

A fellowship at Hedgebrook on Whidbey Island in Washington State provided quiet space as well as the jovial company of other women writers. I found quiet inspiration in the Placitas, New Mexico, home of Deb Green and Jerry Blakely when my friend Deborah Davis let me tag along on her annual writing retreat—twice. The women of Word of Mouth-Bay Area provided good food, challenging conversation, and above all, the inspiration to keep at it no matter what.

Several people provided generous reads and helpful notes despite the mess they were handed. Thank you Lou Berney, Elizabeth Stark, Ellen Sussman, and Laura Ruby. Elaine Korry convinced me to give it one more try when I’d all but given up. My sister, Ellen Gehrs, might not know how much her encouragement means to me. Members of Tyler Gehrs’ high school band may hear echoes of their songs in EiE’s.

 

Finally, my husband, Kevin Griffin, and our daughter, Graham Griffin, loved and supported me even at my crankiest. They did without me for days—sometimes weeks—and celebrated when we finally got to “Yes!”