Thank you to my children Samantha, Jazmyn, Jacob and Simon for making sure I stay on my toes and for clarifying my goals, and to my husband Michael for believing that I can and should do this.
Finally, thank you to all of the readers who took a chance on my work. I try to make sure every day that I don't disappoint you.
An excerpt from the next book in The New Pioneers...
Let's Move On
Safe to say that no one's life is going to be the same after everything that happened. Question is, can they make it better?
He was waiting in the little diner they’d agreed on. It was an all-night spot he’d started visiting when he was in college. Sometimes he liked to come back now and then. He kept thinking it would make him feel better to reflect on how much things had changed since then. But it didn’t. It only reminded him of how much things had stayed the same. He wanted her to meet him there because he felt like maybe things finally had.
He saw her walking down the stairs and straightened up. He wasn’t cool enough not to, although he did try.
She didn’t smile when she saw him, but he smiled anyway. He stood up as she came nearer. "Can I get your coat?"
"It’s sort of cold," she said.
"I’ll order you some coffee."
"What if I want hot chocolate instead?"
"I’ll even throw in the marshmallows."
She handed him her coat. She sat down as he hung it up. The waitress came over and he ordered the hot chocolate. "Are you hungry?" he said.
"I didn’t think I was staying that long," she said.
"Maybe I can change your mind."
She tapped her fingers on the table, but she didn’t take her eyes off of him. "I think I misunderstood when I got the call—"
"I guess I was banking on that," he said honestly. "But did you really...misunderstand?"
"I certainly didn’t think dinner was what you had in mind."
"They make a really good burger here."
"I’m disappointed. I thought for sure that you would have known that I didn’t eat that much red meat."
"So just eat a little now."
"What else do they have?"
"The fries are pretty good."
"Guess that goes with the burgers."
"And then there’s the ice cream."
"Again, it’s cold." He smiled, and she did too.
"You have a very nice smile."
"That’s an old line."
"But it’s true. You do. And you don’t do it enough."
"I guess you haven’t seen me at my happiest."
"Do you still blame me for that?"
She sighed. "I never blamed you for that."
The waitress came back with the hot chocolate. He looked at her for a moment, then ordered two burgers. She shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
"For what it’s worth, I’m still sorry."
"Really? Or am I just easy to apologize to?"
"There is that, but everyone else seems to be...back to business as usual."
"Not quite," she said as she sipped her hot chocolate. "And you know that. Frankly, I’m not sure you’re very sorry about that."
"Maybe half-sorry," he conceded.
"More for what it means that you did it than what it means to them?"
"I’m not a nice guy," he said. "I’ve never pretended to be."
"Maybe, but I think you’ve pretended to be a lot worse than you really are."
"I’m not pretending now." She held his gaze, but didn’t say anything. The food arrived, and he picked up a french fry.
"Your food will get cold," she said after a moment.
"Yours too."
"But I think you’re hungrier."
He put the French fry down and put his chin on his hand. "Anyone ever tell you that you are one cool customer?"
She shook her head. "No. No one has ever said that to me ever," she said honestly. "And I don’t think I am."
"Then what is it?"
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don’t know. I think I just don’t know how to do games very well. I was never very good at it, which probably explains my non-existent dating in high school. And now I think I probably could, but I don’t want to."
"And yet you’re still here."
"I said I didn’t want to play games. I didn’t say I didn’t want to see you."
"So...cards on the table?"
"Why not?"
"Fine," he said, crossing his arms on the table as if he were hugging himself. "I knew who you were before that night, but I didn’t get a very good look until then, I swear. That’s important, because I don’t want you to think that I did what I did to get you here. But I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a big, fat bonus. Because you’re gorgeous—you know that—and...real. I know you don’t play games, and I like that. And anyone who had you and didn’t appreciate you doesn’t deserve you."
She raised her eyebrows, then took a bite of her burger. He watched her chew. "Well," she said at last, "I think you have me confused with someone else. No one has me, and I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone else. I’ve been with people, and there’s a difference."
"You don’t like to lose yourself?"
She shook her head. "No, I don’t see the need. I don’t think you’re that way either."
"Maybe, but it’s different. I need to hold onto myself. There’s so much someone else wouldn’t like. I think it’s a different story with you." He smiled. "Maybe you’re just not as desperate as everyone else."
"Maybe, but I have been."
"Tell me about it."
"Are you sure it won’t be something you already have notes on? I wouldn’t want to bore you."
"I know your parents names. I know who you’re siblings are and where all of you were born. I know where you lived, and when you moved. I know the names of the schools you went to. But I don’t know how you felt. I don’t know how it changed you, or if it did at all. I can make guesses, based on what you’re like right now, but I’ve found more often than I want to admit that you can’t predict something based on history, or even backtrack based on what’s in front of you."
"We’re not just the sum of our parts or experiences?"
"No. We’re that, but what we started out with—that usually means more." He smiled a bit. "No matter what we might say otherwise."
"Perhaps," she said a little sadly. She ate more of her burger, and he did the same. She wiped her mouth, then picked up a french fry. "Why don’t you tell me what you want to know?"
He took another bite. "Okay. You lost your dad when you were pretty young. What was that like?"
She shrugged. "It was sad, of course. I was seven, so I don’t remember him that well. But I loved him. He was a good dad. He told me and my brother stories, and he liked to make us laugh. He wanted us to work hard, and to him success wasn’t having money, it was how well you could help other people. I think he was right.
"He loved my mom too, and I know how hard it was for her when he died. She was sad for a long, long time. It didn’t kill her—we had lots of friends and family—but something was missing for her. So I was happy when she met my step-father. She was happy, and I knew my father would have wanted that for her.
"My step-dad was a widower too, and he had a son, and that was a big bonus. We were all a big happy family."
"So what changed?"
"Why do you think something changed?"
"Because your parents live just two states away, and you’ve gone to see them three times in the last three years."
"I’ve seen my brothers quite a bit."
"That’s true. You’ve taken short trips to Michigan and Chicago quite a few times to see them. But not your parents. Why?"
She put her burger down and looked off to the side as if she were thinking something. After a few moments, she looked at him again. "They had my sister about fifteen years ago. And we were all really happy. But it sort of seemed like...they forgot a little bit about the rest of us. And
that’s normal, because a new baby takes everything for a little while. But I think it was also something else. I think they wanted to be in this little cocoon by themselves. We had each other, so we let them."
She played with her fries a little bit before she continued. "And maybe we shouldn’t have. Because they don’t seem happy anymore. Not like they used to. They don’t...I don’t think they’re enough for each other, even with my little sister. They married a family, but then they forgot that. And by the time they remembered, it was too late."
"Why is it too late?"
"Because they can’t just be our parents now that they need to be parents. Just for the sake of their marriage. And in a way, I guess, we forgot how to be their kids."
"So what’s the lesson learned from that?"
She shrugged. "I don’t know that I learned anything, except that maybe you have to be with someone for the right reason. Not just to fix something."
"Then isn’t it lucky?"
"What?"
"That there is absolutely nothing wrong with you."
She smiled and looked away. "Shame," she whispered, leaning forward, "that the same can’t be said about you." He smiled back.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deborah Nam-Krane has been writing in one way or another since she was eight years old (and telling stories well before that). As an adult she brought many of her characters together to begin the New Pioneers series. The first book of the series The Smartest Girl in the Room and The Family You Choose were published in 2013.
In 2012 she wrote the History section of her sister Suzanne Nam’s Moon Thailand (Moon Handbooks).
Please join her mail list to find out first about new releases and connect with Deborah Nam-Krane on any of the following sites:
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A book reviewer for the last decade, she is grateful for all of the reader reviews she has received so far. After sales, they are the best promotion a new author can get. If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on the retail site you purchased from, Goodreads, your blog or wherever you share your opinions.
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