Where the Watermelons Grow
Page 16
The lady at the front desk of the behavioral health building smiled and said, “Hey there, Miles,” when we walked in, and by the time we stepped out of the elevator and onto Mama’s floor, the heavy double doors were already unlocking and opening.
“Wait,” I said. I couldn’t make my feet take another step toward that room, toward the woman who might be the mama I knew or might be a stranger.
I closed my eyes, trying to summon up the way the Bee Lady’s watermelon honey had glowed all the way through me. I’d finished off every last lick of honey in the jar days ago, but I could still remember its wild brightness without even trying.
I didn’t know what Mama would be like today, or when she’d be back to herself and ready to come home. It might be that today’s visit would go great—or it could be just like last week, and I’d leave with Mama crying and saying things that only made sense in her own brain.
And it might be that someday I’d be like Mama, too, struggling to figure out what was real and what wasn’t, never quite like the other mothers in town.
But I thought of Miss Amanda whispering that everything was going to be just fine. And somehow, I knew she was right.
Maybe it wouldn’t be easy, but one way or another, all those things would work themselves out.
I opened my eyes. “Okay,” I said, taking a deep in-out breath and looking down at my fingertips, which still held just the tiniest glimmer of candlelight. “I’m ready.”
And we stepped through the doors.
Acknowledgments
I had been writing for a long time before I learned just how many people it takes to create a book—and I think it’s no coincidence that it wasn’t until I’d managed to assemble an A-plus support team that Where the Watermelons Grow found a home.
First, this book would never have been what it is without the help and generosity of friends who were willing to answer my questions, read early drafts, and brainstorm with me as I worked to get the portrayal of Suzanne’s situation as accurate as possible. Lisa Hyde, Tracey Enerson Wood, J. R. Yates, and Priscilla Mizell, thank you! Any errors in representation are mine alone.
I couldn’t have written a word without the unflagging love of Shannon Cooley, who has always been there to cheer me on and cheer me up when I’m convinced I’m a talentless hack.
Amanda Rawson Hill, Jamie Pacton, and Ashley Martin: thank you, my beautiful Sisters of the Pen, for your pep talks, your brainstorming, your critiques, and your presence in my life. The three of you are shining examples of generosity and grace, and I’m blessed to call you friends.
The Pitch Wars community (especially my fellow 2015 alumni!) has been a game changer for my writing, and I’ll never be able to express my gratitude enough. Among others, I’ll always owe gratitude to Rosalyn Eves, who taught me what revision actually looks like, and to Julie Artz, Cory Leonardo, and Kit Rosewater for their friendship, love, and belief in me. Likewise, this book may never have found an agent and editor to love it without #DVPit and its tireless creator, Beth Phelan; I’m also grateful for the DVSquad, with whom I’ll always feel like the shy, starstruck girl in the cafeteria tagging along with all the popular kids.
The Electric 18s and Class of 2k18 debut groups were my cheering section, my moral support, and my comic relief on the days I needed it most. The Storymakers writing community—especially my Sisters in Writing and Suite Sisters—have been there for me since the days when I was an overly cocky newbie with big dreams.
There are many critique partners who read various drafts of this book and helped make it stronger than I ever could’ve on my own. Particular thanks to Emily Ungar and Anna Carew-Miller, who helped suggest some of the final puzzle pieces as I revised. (What would this book even be without the Bee Stories?!)
I owe deep gratitude to Heather Clark, who heard me struggling with the early outline of this story in a workshop and came up with the perfect solution to my problem.
My family has written the book on supportiveness—especially my dad, Russ Ray, who has been my number one cheerleader for as long as I can remember. My mom has always been in my corner and has raised me to know just how important a mama’s love is. My siblings taught me what it is to be the oldest in a family and how you can love a little brother or sister just as much as if they were your own child.
Though they may not be family by blood, I never would’ve had the courage to pursue writing as a career if not for the encouragement of Gwen Rasmussen and Sara Hagmann.
My life has been filled with women who have mothered me along with my own mama. Chief among them is Alisyn Rogerson. She and her whole family will always be closer than kin, the Hawthornes to my Kellys.
The hugest of huge thanks are owed to Elizabeth Harding, my incomparable agent, who was there for every panicked email and who talked me through each big decision with the utmost patience. Sarah Gerton, assistant agent at Curtis Brown, provided excellent feedback that challenged me to dig deeper on each of my books. My editor, Alexandra Cooper, saw what this story could become and helped it into its fullest form. Without Alyssa Miele, Bethany Reis, and Valerie Shea, Where the Watermelons Grow would have been filled with 100 percent more typos and awkward phrases (and Miss Lorena would’ve been driving an amazing shape-shifting car-van!). And Erin Fitzsimmons created the cover and jacket design of my heart.
Last but most definitely not least, I am beyond grateful for my husband, Mahon, and my daughter, Kate (whose toddler antics heavily inspired Mylie). Y’all are my world.
About the Author
Courtesy of Cindy Baldwin
CINDY BALDWIN is a fiction writer, essayist, and poet. She grew up in North Carolina and still misses the sweet watermelons and warm accents on a daily basis. As a middle schooler, she kept a book under her bathroom sink to read over and over while fixing her hair or brushing her teeth, and she dreams of writing the kind of books readers can’t bear to be without. She lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and daughter, surrounded by tall trees and wild blackberries. Where the Watermelons Grow is her debut novel. To learn more about Cindy, visit www.cindybaldwinbooks.com.
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Copyright
WHERE THE WATERMELONS GROW. Copyright © 2018 by Cindy Baldwin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art and design by Erin Fitzsimmons
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Baldwin, Cindy, author.
Title: Where the watermelons grow / Cindy Baldwin.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, [2018] | Summary: Twelve-year-old Della Kelly of Maryville, North Carolina, tries to come to terms with her mother’s mental illness while her father struggles to save the farm from a record-breaking drought.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017034537 | ISBN 9780062665867 (hardcover)
Subjects: | CYAC: Schizophrenia—Fiction. | Mental illness—Fiction. | Farm life—North Carolina—Fiction. | Family problems—Fiction. | Droughts—Fiction. | North Carolina—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.B3568 Whe 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017034537
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Digital Edition JULY 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-266588-1
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-266586-7
1819202122CG/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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