At last she caught her breath and said, “I love this place. Don’t you love this place?”
“It is pretty great.”
“Are you staying?”
“Am I staying?”
“Lots of people end up staying. Or they keep coming back. You could keep coming back.”
“Could I stay? If I wanted to?”
“Of course. You’re one of Sabine’s favorite people. She would give you a room.”
Then he wanted to ask about staying in her room. He wanted to talk about Louisiana and how he’d come to realize he’d let her down. But he couldn’t. He just stood in the snow, his feet growing numb, and looked at her face that was radiant with cold, while the congregation’s singing jarred into silence.
At last he said, “I could help save the world.”
“No,” said Kate. “I think we could be happy. But there isn’t any way to save this world.”
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank my husband, Howard Mittelmark, who read several early versions of this book and always had brilliant advice. He’s a great editor, a great friend, and my sounding board on all things. Also, dreamy.
Paul Bravmann and Peternelle van Arsdale gave great and meticulous advice on early drafts of the book. I also want to thank early readers from Echo: Ellen Tarlow, Gail Vachon, Jim Baumbach, and Liz Margoshes.
Many, many thanks to my amazing editors, Peter Blackstock and Anne Meadows, for their invaluable help with the manuscript and all-around genius. My agent and good friend Victoria Hobbs always goes above and beyond, in addition to just being brilliant, charming, and all things wonderful.
Finally I want to mention my ex-husband and close friend, Robin Mookerjee, on whom the character Ben is very loosely based. Because life is awful, I can’t directly thank Robin; he died, far too young, while this book was being written. While Ben is not Robin, and The Heavens is not about Robin’s life, the pervasive sadness in the book is very much about Robin’s death.
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