The Smartest Girl in the Room

by Deborah Nam-Krane

  "I meant something a little more permanent."

  "Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "I might have to have you negotiate with Zainab. I still have a lot of back rent I need to work off."

  He turned onto his back and pulled her on top of him. "I bet she’d let you go if you kept her stocked in cupcakes."

  "She’s more about scones and brownies."

  "Give me your recipes and I’ll bake them for her."

  She kissed his forehead. "You’d do all that baking just to keep me here?"

  "I’d cook anything anyone wanted to keep you here."

  Sleepy, she closed her eyes. "If I move in with someone else those guys are not going to let me live it down."

  She didn’t hear his answer before she drifted off.

  CHAPTER 65

  Later that morning they lingered in bed, the shower and in bed again. It was two in the afternoon before they could go out. Mitch would have been happy to have stayed in bed all day, but Emily insisted on getting some food.

  They ended up in Chinatown because Emily had heard about a dim sum restaurant that had some vegan offerings. "I can’t think of a better way to celebrate graduating than getting some rolled rice noodles and almond Jell-O with you."

  Mitch sat down and laughed. "I would expect nothing less from the woman whose idea of a good date is a cheese sandwich."

  "Cheese sandwich," Emily mused as she opened her menu. "One more thing that turned out to be bad for me."

  Mitch was quiet after ordering. Emily looked at him sipping his tea and smiled.

  "Yes?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

  She blushed. "You are so unfair when you draw attention to your eyes."

  He took her hand. "Why?"

  She stroked his fingers. "Because you know I can’t think straight when I look at them."

  "Then you’re in trouble, because my plan is that you’re going to have to look at them for the rest of your life."

  The food came before she could answer. She looked away and cut into a noodle with her fork. "You know, I haven’t had these in ages."

  He took a bite out his. "These are really good." He took another bite. "I think you should learn how to make them."

  She looked up. "Excuse me?"

  "I’m going to law school in the fall. Probably won’t be able to afford dim sum- in the middle of the week- like this very often. But it would be a shame not to have it at all."

  She swallowed. "I see. And you can’t learn to make it?"

  "I can cook, but I think you’ve proven you have more skills."

  "Skills are acquired."

  "This is true," he nodded. "But, like I said, I’ll be in law school."

  "Uh huh."

  He smiled. "Yep."

  "Is there something you want to ask me?"

  "Will you marry me?"

  "What?"

  "Well, you said it yourself: if you move in with someone else, Zainab’s never going to leave you alone about it."

  "So I should marry you? After one night?"

  He smiled. "It has actually been more than six months."

  "Sort of. But even that is considered a very short engagement."

  "By whom? And why should I care what they think?"

  "Your food’s getting cold."

  "I’m not eating until you give me an answer."

  "If you’re not going to have time to learn how to make a dim sum dish, what makes you think you’ll have time to be married?"

  "Priorities?"

  "Don’t you think marriage is harder than cooking?"

  "Much. But I know for a fact that being without you is much harder than being with you."

  "So what’s wrong with dating? You stay where you are, I stay where I am and when you’re out of school we can see if you still want to get married."

  "Why are you worried I’m going to change my mind?"

  She leaned back in her booth. "You’re going to meet all kinds of people in law school. You can’t know whether you’re going to look at one of them and wish you could be with them instead of me."

  "I do know." He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "I’ve known since the night I met you but I couldn’t get out of my own way. It doesn’t matter who else I meet."

  "I don’t believe you. I think you think this is a great idea right now, but by the end of the summer you’ll change your mind."

  He grinned. "What makes you think I want to wait until the end of the summer?"

  CHAPTER 66

  Two days later, Emily hung up her phone.

  "What did Miranda say?" Mitch asked as he kissed her neck and shoulders.

  Emily put her arms around his neck. "She didn’t believe me at first."

  "Yeah? What did you say to convince her?"

  She smiled. "I told her I finally did the smart thing."

  "That’s what I think," he whispered.

  "Well, good. Now she’s going to throw us a reception."

  He pulled her close to him. She wondered if they’d make it out to that pretty beach outside of their bed and breakfast today. "You’re not going anywhere near her house and that creep."

  She sat on his lap. "Is that an order?"

  He sighed after a moment. "You know I can’t think when you look at me like that, much less give orders."

  "Then it’s settled. The party is in three days."

  He kissed her tenderly. "You are not fair, Mrs. Graham. You know I’d do anything to make you happy."

  She kissed him back and forgot all about the beach. "Then don’t change a thing, Mr. Graham."

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book is dedicated to Liseli Mulala, who makes my memories of college and the years after much fonder than they would be otherwise. Thank you for being a good friend and role model.

  Emily has Zainab, Jessie and Miranda. Over the years, the people who have played their roles for me are Odessa Cozzolino, Karen Idra Kaiser, Makeda Warren Keegan and Amy Briggs Bledsoe. Thank you, my dears- your support over the years has been invaluable.

  I am very lucky to have the best, most supportive sisters I could ask for: Suzanne Nam, who spent many hours giving me her well-thought out critiques of early drafts, Penelope Nam-Stephen, who was the first person to read this story, Courtney Nam, for being ambitious and good-natured, Elizabeth Nam, for her adventurous spirit, and Katy Nam, who reminds me every day why it’s important to be able to speak our truth.

  Thanks to my father Kenneth Eui-un Nam who shocked me when he said writing would be a good career after all, and my mother Eileen Prince who reminded me to follow my dream.

  I was just one of thousands with a story until I was fortunate enough to meet Heather Rick, who knew exactly which parts needed a little polishing and which needed to be cut. Finding Keri Knutson resulted in a gorgeous cover that made me feel like my story was now a genuine book. And thanks to Harold Werling for formatting my book so people could read it.

  Many, many thanks to my beta-readers: Sheryl Light, who read everything I gave her and was always willing to talk issues through; Nicole DeSmet, who took time out from her busy job at the to read my manuscript; Allie Gillies, who read my story not once but twice; and Erin Cawood, who decided that helping a fellow writer was worth taking time away from promoting her own book.

  In addition to Erin, I want to thank the other indie authors who extended a helping hand and offered advice and support: Al Boudreau, Lisa Stull, Lisette Brodey, Sarah Woodbury, Claudia Hall Christian and every single writer on the wonderful Indie Writers Unite! Facebook group. When that many talented people want to know what you’re waiting for, listen.

  Thank you to my wonderful family in Korea, who inspires me to do better than I think I can: Nam Si-Uk, Kim Eun-San and Nam Jeong-Ho.

  My wonderful children Samantha, Jazmyn, Jacob and Simon everyday help me find stories old and new (and now that they’re a little older, I have a little more time to write them). Finally, thank you to my husband Michael, who has believed in my stories from Day One.

&nb
sp; An excerpt from the next book in the New Pioneers series...

  The Family You Choose

  If anyone is going to understand a sudden elopement, it’s Miranda. That’s what her parents did…

  ~~~

  It was Israel, 1984, another long summer night. Summer heat was so comforting and dry, unlike the oppressively sticky heat of the Massachusetts beach town he had left just a few weeks before. He smiled. Not that he'd paid much attention to the humidity.

  The jeep rolled through the sand, bouncing and jarring every few feet. But Asher Harel hardly noticed. The other guys were cursing under their breath about having to take the night shift, but Ash kept feeling the letter he’d just read and then fingering his ring.

  He still needed to pinch himself when he thought of Tatiana. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She was like something out of a fairy tale with honey blonde hair, the greenest eyes he’d ever looked at and skin that remained luminous despite hours in the sun. She was a miracle of nature.

  He'd thought so when he first saw her in Faneuil Hall that day. Spring was just starting- at least, what they called spring in Massachusetts. Ash felt a chill and looked at his tee-shirt. Most places, he could wear a tee-shirt in the spring. He didn't want to buy one more thing he'd have to pack up, but he needed another layer. "Excuse me?" he said to several of the passersby before they walked away. Ash snorted a little bit. People were much nicer last year in New York. He looked around at the stores, unsure of which one he should go into.

  "Are you lost?" someone asked quietly. He turned around and there she was. The first thing he saw, of course, were the beautiful eyes. And then the smile. He had to smile back. Then he saw the rest of the face, perfectly oval, perfectly smooth.

  "I think so," he said after a moment. "Lost and a little out of my element. I didn't realize it was going to be so cold today.

  "I guess not," she laughed. Her laugh was huskier than her voice. "You were looking for a clothing store?"

  "Yes, but not too expensive. I'm a tourist-"

  "Really? I never would have guessed by the accent."

  "Oh, aren't you smart? So can you tell me where I'm from?"

  She winked one eye shut and wrinkled her nose. "Germany?"

  "Ha!" Ash involuntarily laughed. "No, not for some time."

  "Then where?"

  "Israel."

  "Oh." She nodded knowingly. "I guess that will do as well."

  "But where is your accent?" he asked. "You don't sound like the other Bostonians."

  She giggled. "Thank you. My grandmother will be very pleased to hear you say that. I'm not from Boston."

  "Then where are you from?"

  "You haven't heard of it, I promise."

  "So tell me now and the next time someone asks me where the prettiest girls live, I can tell them."

  "And why would anyone believe you about anything when you can't even bring a sweater to Boston in the middle of winter?"

  "It's supposed to be spring!" he laughed.

  "Never listen to the weather reports in Boston- everyone will believe you about that."

  By the time they had walked down Congress Street, he had told her his name. By the time they walked down Washington Street to Filene's Basement, she had told him his. They learned each other's life stories as he picked out his sweater, and by the time they were at the checkout he had decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  "When do I get to meet this grandmother of yours?" he asked as they got a cup of coffee at a Dunkin Donuts.

  "She doesn't always like strangers. It might take a little time."

  "No, I have only a little time to convince her that she should let you come back to Israel with me. I must meet her as soon as possible."

  "Do you want...." She smiled and looked away. "Never mind."

  "I'm sure I want it, whatever it is."

  She looked back at him. It was a look he had seen when he was younger, but one he never thought he’d get. "The train leaves in two hours. I suppose you could come with me-"

  "I think that's a great idea," he said quickly.

  "-but it will be really late when you have to take the return train, and you won't get back until about eleven-thirty."

  "Is that late?"

  "It is here."

  "I'm willing to take my chances."

  "Don't worry, I'm not very dangerous."

  "I don't believe that's the case."

  Ash stayed at Tatiana’s house for hours, talking long into the night with her and her grandmother Helen. She was not easy to draw a smile from, but by the end of the evening she wouldn't hear of him going anywhere at such a late hour and set up a bed for him on the couch.

  When they awoke the next morning, they found Ash had already made breakfast for them. (He was suddenly very grateful to his mother for all of those times he had to make breakfast while she got the younger children ready.) After that morning, Helen didn’t object when Tatiana would leave with Ash, and didn’t mention anything when they didn’t come back. Her smile was enough for him to know that she approved.

  Helen, he repeated to himself. That's a nice name. So was Judah, his brave, stubborn grandfather who’d willed himself and his only surviving son to live through Hell. Tatiana had cried when he’d told her how his grandfather and father had lived through the concentration camps. She promised that she would never forget.

  She cried again when he told her he would have to return to Israel. He made his decision at that moment. "We’re getting married," he said simply. "Stupid idiot war- I’m going to do what I have to do, then I’m coming back and we’re never going to be apart again."

  Her pretty eyes were bloodshot. "You’re just saying that. You’re never coming back again after you leave."

  "How can you say that?"

  "Because no one ever comes back."

  "I swear on my grandfather’s life, I’m coming back for you."

  "Don’t swear anything. Just do something! If you want to marry me, take me back to Israel with you."

  "Are you crazy? There’s a war now."

  "Didn’t you say there was always a war?"

  "Yes, but this one is new. Please, Tatiana, it’s so much more dangerous now."

  "But that’s where you’re going! And you’re going into battle!"

  "I am not going into battle, alright? My father... I’m not proud, but I’m on patrol duty, not infantry. It’s much safer."

  "Fine, then take me with you."

  "God, my grandfather will love you. You’re as stubborn as he is."

  "Is that a yes?

  "No, you crazy fool. I’d kill myself if anything happened to you there."

  "Oh really? And you want to marry me? So where do you suppose we’re going to live if Israel isn’t safe?"

  "Darling, the war isn’t going to go on forever."

  "There’s always a war..."

  "Yes, fine, but it will be safe in a few months, and then you’ll come over."

  "And do you have a date for that?"

  "Yes- right after Yom Kippur."

  "I don’t believe you."

  He put his arms around her and kissed her. He meant every word. She kissed him back. "So marry me now," she whispered.

  "I think my family is going to want a bigger wedding, and I’m not sure we have enough time to sort out all of the arrangements before I have to leave- "

  "We can get married again and everyone can be with us, but if you want me to believe you, then you have to marry me now."

  He racked his brain to see if there was anything wrong with what she was proposing. And there wasn’t. So he kissed her again. "Alright then, let’s get married. We'll do it as soon as the sun comes up."

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned. He realized that at this late hour, they had the beach all to themselves. So they used it. Ash smiled at the memory. Of course, that must have been when it happened.

  They had gotten out of the jeep by now. Automatically, he began to ch
eck his weapon. Good call, he thought. Now no one could count on their fingers around his child, not that those things should matter anyway. And this made things a little easier. His parents, he knew, were not so crazy about his marriage to an American, but he knew that they couldn’t say no to their own grandchild. And his grandfather… as long as the baby was raised as a Jew, he’d be happy.

  "Ash, look out!" But Ash had been too preoccupied thinking about his pretty new wife and the child they’d have by next year to move out of the way quickly enough. He died from the explosion instantly, but her face was the last image in his mind.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Deborah Nam-Krane was born in New York, raised in Cambridge and went to school in Boston. You’re forgiven for assuming she’s prejudiced toward anything city or urban. She’s been writing in one way or another since she was eight years old (and telling stories well before that). She first met some of the characters in this story when she was thirteen years old, but it took two decades- and a couple of other characters- to get the story just right.

  In 2012 she wrote the History section of her sister Suzanne Nam’s Moon Thailand (Moon Handbooks).

  Like other indie authors, she hopes her readers will leave reviews on retail sites, Goodreads, and/or their blogs. Nothing helps an indie more!

  A blogger since 2006, she can be found in a number of places:

  Written By Deb

  Smashwords Author Page

  Twitter

  Facebook

  Google+

  Goodreads

  Join the mail list to find out first about new releases and giveaways