“And I’ll give it serious consideration.”
I couldn’t hold a straight face, and besides, Meg was already groaning.
“Mark, she’s giving you a hard time . . .”
“I guess we’re not grilling tonight in celebration, then,”
he said over her, and the twins let out shouts of protest. This was the warmest day of the year so far, and they were delirious with cabin fever.
“Light the grill,” I announced. “I’m going to Harvard!”
Upstairs, I changed out of my school clothes and glanced around my room. The ballroom-gowned granddame had been taken down at my request, replaced by the painting that Mr. Diaz had sent me as a very belated birthday gift.
“He wanted to give it to you in LA,” Penny had explained to me. “But that day got complicated.”
The understatement of the year.
I gazed at it now, the long road disappearing into the horizon. In this room, it was placed so that sunlight reached it from the bay window, making it seem cheerier, more optimistic. I liked it better than ever.
On another wall, I’d framed a collection of sketches by my genius brother, Gabe, as well as a couple of photos from the campaign summer. And on my bedside table, I’d placed a photo of my mom.
This shot was taken only a few months before the accident. The light was dusty around her, another arid day at the food bank. Here it made her glow, that beatific look that saints had in religious paintings. But if you looked closer, you could see that her shirt was dirty, some errant stain from a spilled lunch that was captured and memorialized forever. It was perfect. It was exactly the mother I knew.
I wished she were staring back at me from inside the frame, that she could see the home I’d made here, the people I had all around me. I wished she knew that I was okay, happy even. That I’d found out, and that I didn’t judge her or blame her, but loved her even more somehow. And that I missed her, too. That I’d never stop missing her.
Outside, the twins were yelling, and the smell of smoke told me that my dad had lit the grill.
I gave my mom one more smile and went downstairs to join my family.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My name might be on the cover, but this book truly belongs to the friends, family, and colleagues whose generosity, perceptiveness and overall dazzling brilliance brought this story and its characters to life.
First, to my wonderful agent, Katelyn Detweiler, who honored me beyond words by choosing me as her very first client, then promptly blew me away with her editorial skills, daily kindnesses, and business know-how. I’m glad to have you as a coconspirator and career guide—you’ve made me a cheerful and extremely grateful author. Thanks to Jill Grinberg and Cheryl Pientka as well, for their unwavering enthusiasm, support, and astute notes, along with Samantha Brody, Lindsay Sugarman, and Ellie Jurchisin, whose input helped whip this story into shape.
To my exceptional editor, Jessica Garrison—it’s been so fun and fulfilling to live in this book world with you, to talk about the characters as if they were real and draw them more fully onto the page. Your editorial expertise and insights into human behavior have improved both my writing and this book immeasurably. Thank you for believing in a debut author, for caring about this book as much as I do, and for being a friend through the whole process.
My enormous appreciation to the whole team at Dial and Penguin Books for Young Readers, especially Lauri Hornik, Liz Waniewski, Dana Chidiac, and Namrata Tripathi, for their invaluable feedback at various stages of the book’s life; to Heather Alexander for her above-and-beyond support; to Regina Castillo, copy editor extraordinaire, master logician, and wrangler of unruly calendars; and to the talented Jason Henry and Lindsey Andrews for so perfectly capturing the spirit of the book in their book and jacket design.
Lots of love to Donna Gordon, Charlotte Jones, and Pamela Thorne, my three moms, earliest draft readers, and biggest cheerleaders. Affection and appreciation as well to Emily Derr, Lexi Beach, and Adrienne Harris for being my best supporters, inspirations, and friends for the past . . . hrrmverylongtime.
Thank you Susan Johnston and the Wednesday Ladies for fueling my momentum every week from that sunny bungalow in Santa Monica when I first started on this path to writing—and for introducing me to my husband, as well! That was an excellent bonus. Thanks also to the online WriteStuffExtreme crew for your guidance and encouragement from the earliest germ of an idea and scraps of chapters, especially Mary Baader Kaley and Mary Frame, who read my first solid draft and managed to bolster my confidence even as they provided wonderful notes for improvement.
I am grateful to the amazing debut groups that have generously welcomed me into their ranks: OneFour KidLit, The Fearless Fifteeners, and—especially—the incredible ladies of the Freshman Fifteen, who have provided me lively entertainment, free therapy and boundless encouragement throughout the publishing process. (Buy their books next. They are fantastic!) Thanks and kisses to my boys, Oliver and Henry, the best distractions in the world, to my dog, Molly, for always looking interested when I read her passages out loud, and to my husband, Rob—thank you for taking this journey with me, from the moment we met and I declared myself a writer to the millions of little moments when you insisted I make good on that promise. I love you madly and I’m grateful beyond measure.
And lastly, a special thank-you to the wonderful Elise Rainville, who left this world much too young. Without her loving child-care and good company, this book would not have been possible. We will miss you forever.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenn Marie Thorne graduated from NYU-Tisch with a BFA in drama and quickly realized she was having more fun writing plays than actually performing in them. Then when a flurry of political scandals hit the news, Jenn wondered what the kids at the center of the media’s attention must be going through, and so began The Wrong Side of Right, her debut novel. Jenn lives and writes in beautiful Gulfport, Florida, alongside her husband, two sons, and hound dog Molly.
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