Stephen and I pooled our savings and bought a one-bedroom with an alcove in our building (in the event that we would want to sleep an additional [small] person). It was a nice apartment that we could probably sell for a profit if, at some point, the small person got bigger and we decided to move to the suburbs and start talking about finishing the basement.
What else? We are looking into adopting from either Romania or Haiti. I intend to send my mother over to the aforesaid locales to do some scouting. I figure that if she picked out my husband, she could probably pick out my kid. Keep her busy with the big things, and she won’t mess up the small ones.
Stephen is still at the magnet school in the South Bronx, and I’m still with I-ACE, waiting for the job with the sanitation workers to come through, though when it does, I don’t know if I’ll take it. I’ve gotten more into indoor air quality lately and pretty attached to the air-conditioning engineers. I even framed the Certificate of Appreciation and hung it over the thermostat.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS BOOK OWES a debt to the usual suspects, who read it at early stages—Rosetta Marantz Cohen, Anne Hartman, Gertrude Penziner, and Kate Penziner—and to additional early readers, Rebecca Ingalls and Laura Knoll (whose communications skills have also been of great help to me). I am grateful to my long-time agent, Felicia Eth, my publisher, Paul Dry, my superb copyeditor, Beth Hadas, and the best of oncology nurses: Susan Deeney, Katherine Martorano, and Lori Napravnik. Finally, I could not have written this or anything else without my first reader and second self, my husband Alan S. Penziner.
Suzanne Davis gets a life Page 20
