So now I had two ideas, and in joining them together, The Thing I’m Most Afraid Of was born. I hope you enjoyed reading about Becca and Felix and their au pair, Sara, and how they all learned to handle their fears together.
Kristin Levine
Alexandria, Virginia
Suggested Books for Learning More
The River Runs Salt, Runs Sweet: A Young Woman’s Story of Love, Loss and Survival by Jasmina Dervisevic-Cesic. Part love story, part war memoir, this book was written by the first Bosnian refugee given permission to come to the United States to seek medical care.
The Bosnia List: A Memoir of War, Exile, and Return by Kenan Trebinčević and Susan Shapiro. This is a fascinating memoir of a man who escaped from Bosnia as a boy, then returned as an adult to confront some of the former neighbors and friends who had turned against his family.
Land im Lichtermeer by Martin Kargl and Silvio Lehmann. This book contains the text of the speeches given on January 23, 1993, as well as some background information. Unfortunately, I believe this book is only available in German, but it would be a fascinating part of a high school or college German curriculum.
Zlata’s Diary: A Child’s Life in Wartime Sarajevo by Zlata Filipovic. This book covers the first two years of the war in Sarajevo from a child’s perspective; the author was eleven to thirteen when she wrote most of the diary entries.
What to Do When You Worry Too Much: A Kid’s Guide to Overcoming Anxiety by Dawn Huebner, PhD. This book is a great resource for kids and families trying to gain the skills to deal with anxiety.
Guts by Raina Telgemeier. This graphic novel about a girl with anxiety is so relatable—my whole family loved it.
WEBSITES
Much of the joy in my book, from riding the Straßenbahn to standing room at the opera to having a birthday party at a Heuriger, came straight from my own experiences. I highly recommend curious readers google any of the locations or buildings mentioned in the story—nearly all of them are real places. An image search for “Lichtermeer Vienna 1993” will return many beautiful pictures as well.
For those struggling with anxiety: adaa.org—the Anxiety and Depression Association of America offers information and resources.
For those wanting to learn more about refugee issues (past and current): unhcr.org—a United Nations agency working to protect the rights of refugees; globaldetentionproject.org—a research center studying the use of detention as a response to migration and protecting the rights of refugees.
TURN THE PAGE TO READ MORE FROM KRISTIN LEVINE
NOTE TO READER
I USED TO THINK that life was like a puzzle, and if I was organized and worked really hard, I could make all the pieces fit neatly together.
Turns out, I was wrong.
This scrapbook tells the story of how I learned that. It’s full of emails and phone conversations, receipts and flyers. Transcripts of old home movies that I typed up. It’s the story of how we lost my dad and how we found him again, all organized in a binder with headings and labels, colored tabs and archival scrapbooking tape.
Because, if you ask me, there’s nothing like a good list to make you feel calm and in control. Guess I’m just weird that way. I needed to put this all in one place, to see how the clues and pieces all came together to reveal the truth about me and my family.
And if there’s only one thing you learn about me from this collection of documents (and I hope there’s not just one, but if there is just one), it’s this:
I really do love a good puzzle.
Claudia Dalton
EMAIL
From: Jeffery Dalton
Date: Friday, June 26, 2015 4:55 PM EST
To: Claudia Dalton
Subject: Will be home late
My favorite girls,
Something came up while I was at work. Not quite sure when I’ll be home. Don’t wait up!
Love you both,
Dad
PHONE TRANSCRIPT
Claudia Dalton’s Cell Phone | Friday, June 26, 2015, 5:03 p.m.
Mom: Hello?
Claudia: Dad said he had to work late. When are you going to be home?
Mom: Um, might be 7:30.
Claudia: But Dad was going to drive Kate and me to the movies! It starts at 7:30.
Mom: Do you mind missing the previews?
Claudia: Yes. And I can’t sit in the front row because you know I get a crick in my neck.
Mom: Well, I’m sorry, Claudia, but my big conference is in ten days and . . . Why can’t Dad take you? I thought this was his last teacher workday before summer vacation.
Claudia: I don’t know. He just emailed that something came up.
Mom: Huh. Maybe Kate’s mom can take you.
Claudia: She has a project she’s trying to finish before she goes on maternity leave.
Mom: That’s right! When’s the baby due?
Claudia: Couple of weeks.
Mom: Give her my best.
Claudia: Okay. But what about the movies?
Mom: I can pick you up afterward, but—
Claudia: It’s fine, Mom. We’ll walk.
Mom: Sorry, sweetie. Text me when you’re done.
Claudia: Will do.
Mom: Love you!
Claudia: Love you too. Bye.
TEXT MESSAGE
Claudia Dalton’s Cell Phone | Friday, June 26, 2015, 5:11 p.m.
KATE
Hey, BFF?
Sup
Itsy-bitsy change in plans
What?
How do you feel about walking?
Claudia!
Sorry
My dad flaked
Mom working late
Ugh. Mine too
Could your dad . . .
Haha
You know he’s never home before 8
So we walk?
Yup
Meet at your place? 6:30?
See you then
NOTE TO READER
WHEN I WOKE up the next morning something felt wrong, but I didn’t know what it was. I walked into the kitchen and put some bread into the toaster. I got the paper from the front porch and glanced at the headlines: “Gays’ right to wed affirmed,” “For Obama, a day of triumph, grief and grace,” “Dozens killed in terror attacks on 3 continents.” (Why did we still get the paper anyway? Couldn’t my parents read it online like everybody else?!) I smeared peanut butter and jelly on my toast.
And then I saw it. My father’s favorite mug. The one he used for tea every morning. Sitting on the counter, clean and untouched.
EMAIL
From: Claudia Dalton
Date: Saturday, June 27, 2015 10:30 AM EST
To: Jeffery Dalton
Subject: Where are you?!
Dad,
Why didn’t you come home last night?!!!
I’m really freaking out. Did you drop your phone in the toilet again? Did you have a car accident? Did you run away to join the circus?!
Mom says she’s sure there’s some really lame, normal explanation. Like maybe you went bowling with the young teachers from school and had too many beers and decided to crash on someone’s couch and you thought you’d texted us, but there was no signal in the bowling alley and you didn’t notice the message had failed to send. Even though I’ve shown you about 500 times how to check it.
But I think she’s lying because Mom spent all morning scrubbing the kitchen floor. You know Mom. Unless we’re having a party, she only cleans when she’s angry or nervous.
Anyway, call us!!!
Love, Claudia
PHONE TRANSCRIPT
Claudia Dalton’s Cell Phone | Satu
rday, June 27, 2015, 2:14 p.m.
Mom: Hello—
Claudia: Mom, has he called?
Mom: No. Are you still at the pool with Kate?
Claudia: Yeah. They invited me to stay for dinner too.
Mom: Okay. That’s fine.
Claudia: Have you called the police yet?
Mom: Yes, Claudia. They said we have to wait twenty-four hours before filling out a missing persons report.
Claudia: Oh.
Mom: Wait, I’m getting another call!
Claudia: Is it Dad?
Mom: No. No, it’s your grandfather. I called him earlier.
Claudia: That means you think it is serious!
Mom: I’m just covering all the bases.
Claudia: But, Mom . . .
Mom: I’ll let you know if I hear anything. I gotta go.
PHONE TRANSCRIPT
Jenny Dalton’s Cell Phone | Saturday, June 27, 2015, 2:16 p.m.
Mom: Have you heard anything, Walter?
Papa: No, I was just checking in with you.
Mom: Oh.
Papa: This is so strange. Was Jeff having any problems?
Mom: No.
Papa: You don’t sound certain.
Mom: Well, he was acting a little distant lately. But I thought that was because of Lily. I thought it was normal.
Papa: Grief is normal. Disappearing is not.
Mom: I know. I need to call some more friends and . . .
Papa: Let me know if you hear anything.
Mom: I will.
NOTE TO READER
EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, so early it was still dark, I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. When I went into the kitchen for some breakfast, I found Mom already there.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, picking slips of paper out of a Mason jar. I knew what they were: messages my father had left in my lunch.
Have a great first day of school!
Good luck on your science test.
Break a leg in your history skit!
Dad had put notes in my lunch for years, not every day, but a couple times a week. I always brought them home and stuffed them into the jar as I cleaned out my lunch box.
At least I had until a few months ago. Billy Peterson had caught me reading one, snatched it out of my hand, and spent the rest of the day repeating, “I love you, sweetie! Have an amazing day!” in a fake, high-pitched voice. I’d marched home and told Dad I was too old for notes in my lunch anymore.
I felt awful about that now. Had I hurt Dad’s feelings? Was he mad at me? Mom and I pulled note after note out of the Mason jar until they covered the kitchen table.
When we were done, Mom finally admitted that she was worried too. She cooked breakfast, eggs that neither of us ate, and we filled out the missing persons report together. I looked through my phone and found three current photos of Dad to give to the police. I also found the following video, in case they wanted to put it on TV or anything.
VIDEO TRANSCRIPT
INT. KITCHEN—NIGHT
The room is full of people. Streamers hang from the ceiling and a bunch of balloons are tied to one chair. Claudia’s father, Jeff, stands next to the balloon chair. His hair is dark and he wears brown glasses. He has on a blue dress shirt, khaki pants, and a novelty math tie that says C = 2πr. Jeff is chatting with Kate and her mom, Mrs. Anderson. Kate wears a silly hat with candles, which she takes off and puts on Jeff’s head. Her mother wears a dark blue maternity dress that clings to her belly.
JENNY (Off-Screen)
Time for cake!
The lights suddenly go out.
Claudia’s mother carries a beautifully decorated round cake with two number candles, 4 and 1, on the top. She looks as if she’s come straight from work. She has dark blond, shoulder-length hair, and is wearing a silk blouse and a pencil skirt. Everyone starts to sing.
Jeff smiles patiently until they’re done. Then he closes his eyes for a moment, making a wish. He opens his eyes and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers.
Jenny leans over and gives him a kiss.
JENNY (CONT’D)
Happy birthday, sweetie.
NOTE TO READER
IT WAS STRANGE to see my father on the video. I couldn’t help thinking that if I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, my father would be there, reading the paper.
There were no other videos of my father on my phone, just a few clips of Kate and me and a couple of other girls from school at a sleepover, lip-synching to songs and trying out crazy hairdos.
I told Mom we needed to get out our home movies—the clip was kind of dark and a little blurry for television—but she said Dad had taken most of our videos to his parents’ house when Nana was sick. She’d felt too bad from the chemo to do much except lie on the couch, and watching videos of me always cheered her up.
Mom promised to see what else she could find. But I still felt disappointed. I wanted to see those videos now. I wanted more notes in my lunch. I wanted to see my father again, even if it was only for a moment on a screen.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Each book has a whole village of people behind it—and with each book, the village seems to get larger!
I’d like to start by thanking my historical information sources, including authors Jasmina Dervisevic-Cesic and Kenan Trebinčević, who took the time to correspond with me via email about their fabulous memoirs (see suggested books). Heather Faulkner and Luke McCallin from UNHCR: The UN Refugee Agency and Michael Flynn from the Global Detention Project patiently answered questions and pointed me in the right direction to learn more.
A special shout-out to Liserl (Elisabeth Kaplan). We were au pairs together in Vienna so many years ago, and she still lives there today. She generously read through my manuscript not once, but twice, making sure my German was as correct as possible. Any mistakes that remain are my own. I have so many fond memories of hanging out with Liserl—what a joy to reconnect online!
Likewise, this book would not have been possible without the love and generosity afforded to me by my host family in Vienna—Stefan Schennach, Eva Pfisterer, and their son, Philippe. They took in a homesick young lady and made her feel like she had a second home! I’ll never forget all the wonderful times we had together.
There were so many other people who made my year in Vienna what it was. Paula, Susan, Daisy, Danae, and my fellow au pairs: Mollie, Meg, Jane, and David. The artist/German teacher from the University of Vienna who took us to a fabulous modern art exhibit, and all my fellow students too. The ballroom teacher who taught me to dance—to this day, if I’m waltzing, I count the steps in German. Prentice and his fabulous music classes. All the random people I met waiting in line for standing room at the opera.
Back home, there was my formal writers’ group: Caroline Hickey, Tammar Stein, Erica Perl, Katherine Marsh, and Pamela Ehrenberg, who read many of the early drafts. Then I have the friends and cheerleaders in my life: Debbie Gaydos, Jessie Auten, Anna Williams, and Marcos Bolaños all read drafts at various stages, and their comments and support were invaluable. Chuck Stevens and Rebekah Bundang never failed to ask, “How’s the book going?” A special thanks to the ladies who planned a Zoom party (complete with Prosecco, left at my door) during the coronavirus pandemic to celebrate finishing copyedits: Anna, Liz, Diane, Maria, and Jessie. And my mom friends who kept me sane: Aimee, Polly, Diane, Maria, and Alison.
I’d also like to thank the schools, libraries, and readers I’ve heard from over the years. Thank you for all the invitations, letters, and discussions. Writing can be lonely at times; getting to see how it touches others in the real world makes it all worthwhile.
Next come the professionals: Stacey Barney and Kathy Green, I can’t believe this is our fifth book together. You don’t get better editors and agents than these two! Thanks for pushing and suppo
rting me throughout the past ten-plus years. Caitlin Tutterow is an assistant editor extraordinaire, Tom Clohosy Cole created an amazing cover, and I’m ever grateful to Janice Lee and Cindy Howle for copyedits, Jamie Leigh Real and Ariela Rudy Zaltzman for proofreading, and designer Eileen Savage.
Finally, there’s family. First, I want to thank my sister, Erika Knott, and her daughter, Julia, who honestly and bravely shared their family’s struggles with anxiety. My parents, Marlene and Tom Walker, who also read drafts and offered support—like they have been doing for years. I’m grateful to my co-parent, Adam, who always helps out when I have a deadline. And finally, my wonderful daughters, Charlotte and Kara, who read a draft, helped me brainstorm titles, and generally believed in me. Love you both so much!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristin Levine lives in Alexandria, Virginia, with her daughters, two bunnies, and one cat. A lifelong learner, Kristin studied German at Swarthmore College, Film and Video at American University, and is currently pursuing a degree in Data Science at George Washington University. She loves visiting schools and talking with young people about the writing process. Her fifth novel, The Thing I'm Most Afraid Of, was inspired by a gap year she spent in Vienna, Austria, working as an au pair.
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