Almost, Maine
Page 30
And then he stood up because they seemed to require him to do so.
And he wished that Ginette had been there with him to see them. And he hoped that—wherever she was—she could see them.
And then he wondered where she was.
And he looked west, toward where Ginette had gone when she had left him.
And Ginette quietly approached the bench.
And watched Pete as he wondered.
And looked up at the glorious celestial phenomenon. And said, “I didn’t actually think we’d see ’em.”
Ginette hadn’t spoken loudly or anything, but the sound of her voice contrasted starkly with the quiet night and made Pete jump a little. He turned toward the sound of the voice, and, even though he knew it was Ginette’s, he was still surprised to see her standing on the other side of the bench, looking up at the northern lights.
But he was so happy to see her.
And he wondered, for a moment, if she had tested his theory—successfully. And had walked all the way around the world.
No.
Impossible.
And he almost asked her if she had.
But didn’t.
And instead asked, “Where’d you go?”
Ginette had her hands in her pockets and shrugged. And then answered Pete. “I just … walked.”
“Where?”
Ginette nodded to the west.
And Pete looked toward where Ginette had nodded.
And then looked back at her. And wondered again if she had walked all the way around the world—so she could be close to him again.
And Ginette wondered, too, if she had walked all the way around the world in an instant—because that’s what seemed to have happened.
And then she smiled at the mystery of it all.
And just let it be a mystery.
And then she sat on the bench, in the spot Pete had been sitting in when she left him.
And Pete sat next to Ginette, in the spot Ginette had been sitting in when she left him.
And they looked at the northern lights.
They were the same northern lights that appeared in the sky when East started to repair Glory’s heart.
And the same northern lights that pulsed in the sky when Randy and Chad fell to the ground—as they fell in love with each other.
And the same northern lights that hovered over Almost when Marvalyn hit Steve with the ironing board the second time and made him say “ow” for the first time.
And the same northern lights that pulsed in the sky when the waitress at the Moose Paddy introduced herself to Jimmy.
And the same northern lights that streaked across the sky when Michelle and Justin danced together and felt like they were dancing on air. And Aunt Belinda saw that they actually were.
And the same northern lights that glimmered and glowed above when Lendall gave Gayle her engagement ring.
And the same northern lights that shimmered and shone above when Marci’s other shoe dropped from the sky.
And the same northern lights that visited Almost, Maine, when Hope realized that the strange small man she had been talking to was Daniel.
And the same northern lights that had flickered and fluttered above when Rhonda saw what Dave painted for her.
And the same northern lights that Ginette saw not along after her flashlight died.
* * *
Eventually the northern lights disappeared.
And Pete and Ginette were just looking up at the star-filled sky. Which, they had to admit, was a little less interesting now that the northern lights had vanished. But it was still pretty spectacular.
And Pete turned to Ginette and said, “I didn’t mean that I wanted you to walk around the world, you know. I wasn’t asking that. I was just … thinkin’.”
“Okay.”
“I was just saying I thought it was a cool idea.”
“It is.”
“’Cause now that I know that I love you and that you love me … everything feels bigger.”
Ginette felt the lightness fill up her insides again. Because she was happy to hear that Pete loved her. Even though she already knew he did.
“And, now,” continued Pete, “you feel farther away from me—and closer to me—than you’ve ever felt. And you feel known—and unknown. And familiar—and unfamiliar. All at the same time.”
And Ginette nodded and said, “Yeah.” Because she knew what he meant. And felt the same way.
And it was scary.
But not.
And then Pete slid closer to Ginette.
Until he was right next to her.
And then he scooched down and rested his head on her shoulder.
And was as close to her as he could possibly be.
Which felt right.
* * *
Because Ginette and Pete had always been close.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The cover of this book says that I wrote it. And I did. But I couldn’t have—without the help of more people than I can list here.
But I would like to thank the following people with my whole heart for making this thing possible:
Ibi Janko, Andrew Polk, Anita Stewart, Gabriel Barre, Wendy Rich Stetson, Justin Hagan, Larry Nathanson, Jan and Dave Cronin, Jack Thomas and Bruce Payne, Finnerty Steeves, Miriam Shor, Todd Cerveris, and Dramatists Play Service for helping Almost, Maine, the play, find its way into the world. (Please see the acknowledgments page in Almost, Maine: Third Revised Edition for a more complete list.)
Will Schwalbe, for finding Almost, Maine, the play, and for thinking it would make an interesting book.
Jean Feiwel, for taking a chance on this first-time author. And for being patient and kind and encouraging—and for pushing me to deliver.
Richard Fisher, for encouraging me to give this a shot.
Steve Ross, my agent, for helping me understand the world of book publishing. And for being so supportive. And for talking about books and tennis.
Kat Brzozowski, my editor, for making me cut and cut and cut. And for helping think about forward motion. And for being patient—and always positive.
Linda Minton and Mandy Veloso, for the copyediting expertise. To the proofreaders and the sensitivity readers whose names I never got. You’re remarkable.
Barb Lloyd, for giving me good books to read.
Rachel Lloyd, for always making me feel like things are possible.
Kristie and Joe Lloyd, for always asking what I was up to and how it was all going.
Sam Lloyd, for telling me once that you thought I was a good playwright. And for having an imagination that inspires.
Katie and Dennis O’Brien, for always asking how the book was going. And for your new quintessentially Maine digs—which were inspiring.
Bailey O’Brien, for talking to me about storytelling and writing. And for making me feel like I was going to be able to do this.
Julie and Dave Walsh, for caring and always wondering how I was doing—and for the office where I wrote chapters six and ten. And for camp.
The entire Lloyd family, for making me a better Mainer—or, pseudo-Mainer.
Jack Cummings III, Donna Lynne Champlin, Kevin Isola, and Kelly McAndrew, for being excited about the second page I let anyone read—and thinking it was pretty good.
Monica Wood, for the supportive talks and email exchanges. And for writing about Mainers so beautifully.
Cathie Pelletier, for writing such beautiful books about northern Maine. And for your energy and kindness.
Susan Lovell and Michael Borrelli, for being there from the beginning and for reminding me that Almost, Maine is a special place.
Kathy McCafferty and Dave Mason, for bringing Almost, Maine to life so beautifully so many times. And for believing in me and places like Almost, Maine.
Jack Thomas, for the unending support.
Jenn Guare, for always asking how it was going and for talking about books.
Anne Blanchard, for introducing me to Antoine de Saint Exupery.
Liz Fitzpatrick, for all the love.
Mary Bonney, for putting up with our fractured conversations. And for all the good thinking you do.
Louise and Greg Hamlin, for giving me a place to stay when I headed north. (I wrote the prologue at your old house!)
Kim Kiehn, for all the inspiring photos and quotes and texts and pep talks.
Elyse Kiehn, for taking me seriously and for being so thoughtful and fun and kind.
Mindy Wolfe, for picking up when I’d call. And for making me feel better when I was low.
Beth Synnott, for helping me keep my chin up always. And for reminding me that it’s almost always all good.
Noelle Umback, for the company and for reminding me to think of the final stretch as an extended finals period.
Kate Reinders, for helping me remember to keep perspective and that there’s so much to feel good about.
Emily Skinner, for the meals and the pep talks.
Launa Schweizer, for an extremely valuable pep talk.
Aislinn Frantz, for reading a chapter and making an important cut and for checking in.
Caroline Kinsolving, for saving me when I was drowning in this thing.
Haleh Roshan Stillwell, for the talks.
Annie Brabazon, for checking in on me from time to time.
Betsy Hogg and Kathy Hogg, for letting me know you were there if I needed them.
David Bakis, my new Maine friend, for being so interested in this thing. Rest in peace, my friend.
Tor Hyams and Lisa St. Lou, for helping me make an important cut and for telling me it was all going to be okay.
Alyssa Manning, for sending along all the germane articles. And for checking in often.
Vera Mihailovich, for being there always. And for caring so deeply. And for your great mind and great heart.
Isaac, Henry, and Ruth Cariani, for all the love. You made me want to make this book as good as I could. Because I want you to like it.
Jeff Cariani, for checking in and encouraging me and telling me to stop whining. And for your model work ethic. And for keeping me in a good headspace.
Paul and Sheila Cariani, for moving to northern Maine when I was a kid. And for being honest and true always. And for all the love and support. And for telling me to just get this thing done.
And John Lloyd. This is our story.
THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FEIWEL AND FRIENDS BOOK.
The Friends who made
Almost, Maine
possible are:
Jean Feiwel, Publisher
Liz Szabla, Associate Publisher
Rich Deas, Senior Creative Director
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Anna Roberto, Senior Editor
Kat Brzozowski, Senior Editor
Alexei Esikoff, Senior Managing Editor
Kim Waymer, Senior Production Manager
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Erin Siu, Associate Editor
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Mike Burroughs, Designer
Mandy Veloso, Senior Production Editor
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Cariani is a Tony Award®–nominated actor and a playwright. He has appeared on and off Broadway and in several films and television shows, and his plays have been performed all over the world. Almost, Maine is his most popular play and the basis of this, his first novel. John grew up in Presque Isle, Maine, and resides in the Bronx. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Map
Prologue
Welcome
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by John Cariani
A Feiwel and Friends Book
An imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271
fiercereads.com
All rights reserved.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
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First hardcover edition, March 2020
eBook edition, March 2020
eISBN 9781250102904