“I think it was the opposite for me, Mr. Barber. I wanted to hear their stories so I could understand myself. What my life was, or was supposed to be,” Katie says. “Who I should be.”
Mr. Barber stops his slow rocking. “And now?”
“I guess I’m ready for my own story.”
Mr. Barber looks at her, smiles. “That sounds about right.”
“But I’ve decided to finish the Cohens’ documentary after all. I’m about halfway through. Their son, Ben, is helping me. He’s narrating their life together.”
Mr. Barber pats the arm of her chair. “They’d be real proud of you, your friends.”
They rock side by side for a long time, quiet as the sun continues its journey upward, as the ocean fills with more boats and a few Jet Skiers. Mr. Barber finally stirs beside her, looks her in the eye.
“Nick didn’t mention a wife,” he says. “Just said he needed a break, to breathe a little bit easier and all.”
“I know.”
“But I sure got the feeling he was running from something.”
“Me.”
“Not exactly, no,” Mr. Barber says. “Not a person, I’d say. Something bigger than that. But then I guess we all have our ghosts, don’t we?”
“I guess so.”
After a few minutes, Mr. Barber stretches his arms out in front of him, like he’s trying to frame the entire ocean inside them. “Nice, isn’t it? Watching the day wake up like this? Makes you feel like you could do anything, don’t it?”
Not yet, Katie thinks.
But someday. Eventually.
Yes.
Acknowledgments
I am so very thankful to Kendra Harpster at Viking for her all her hard work and insightful feedback, and for making this experience so rewarding every step of the way. It has been such a gift to work with her. Many thanks also go to Geri Thoma and Julia Kenny and everyone at the Markson Thoma Literary Agency. I’m deeply grateful to Maureen Sugden, too, for her careful read and great suggestions.
This book would not be possible without my amazingly supportive and loving family: my dad, who offers help in every possible way, without ever being asked and always with kind words and a smile; my sister Robin, whose friendship and faith in me has helped me endure and whose diagnostic expertise proved invaluable from beginning to end; my sister Kelley, whose friendship and love is tireless and sustaining—she always listens and keeps me sane; my big brother Joe, who has inspired me since we were kids and shared our special language—he is the best person I know, and he still draws the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen; and my brother-in-law, John, who gives such great advice, both now and through the years, and who keeps me on track—I’m so happy to have another big brother in my life.
A very special thank you to Evan Kuhlman for his thoughtful criticism and lasting friendship. He read this book from beginning to end more times than I can count and always with good cheer. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
Judi Kolenda graciously read more than once, and is a supportive and encouraging friend and writer in my life. Her passion for storytelling always inspires me, and I would be truly lost without her. Kirsten Bischoff is a fearless friend and reader—I’m so grateful for her honesty, comments, and kicking me in the butt when I needed it.
Many, many thanks to my friends in the creative writing department at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington, especially Philip Gerard, Rebecca Lee, Karen Bender, and Robert Siegel. A very warm thank you goes to Clyde Edgerton for his patient counsel and continuing guidance; I am so lucky to have such a kind mentor and friend.
Geoff Kantoris shared his legal expertise and then proofread the final copy. Jeanne Mullins, MA, CCC-SLP, provided detailed information about speech pathology and working with a challenged population. Dave Monahan from the film studies department at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington gave me great advice about filmmaking, past and present. Nina de Gramont read two drafts and was quite generous with her time after the book was completed. Matthew Hall and Jonathan Smiley read closely and helped with the finishing touches. My warmest thanks to all of them.
It’s nearly impossible to put into words how grateful I am to Christopher Gould from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington, who had faith in me and gave me the opportunity to do what I love. Special thanks also go to Jane Bullock, Donna Carlton, and Emily Matzke for all their support over the years. And to my students who made teaching such a fulfilling experience: I’ve learned so much from all of you.
I want to thank my first readers and friends, Shana Deets, Renee Dixon, Terri Meadowcroft, Rebecca Petruck, Andrea Quarracino, Lorrie Smith, Neil Smith, and Kate Tully for all their encouragement and invaluable criticism.
I’m also deeply appreciative of all my brother’s friends at the Trudeau Center for letting me visit, for their enthusiasm and laughter, and for allowing me to tag along and help out once in a while at the Special Olympics.
And finally, above all, to my beautiful mother, G. Carol Boyajian, my greatest champion, for her true and unconditional love, her wisdom, her humor, and her unwavering belief in me in all things. She was the greatest and most inspirational woman in the world, and I miss her every day.
Lies of the Heart Page 38