Counting Thyme (28 page)

“There he is.” I pointed at the crowd. “The kid with the sort of bald head. That's my brother, Val. He's sitting with my parents and my sister. He's been sick . . . with a kind of cancer. But he's getting better.” Val's face was beaming at the stage, bright with anticipation. I felt like he was looking right at me, like I could reach out and touch him.

“He looks nice.”

“You should try sharing a bathroom with him.”

Jake cracked up, and then he leaned over and kissed me on
the cheek. My face burned, but I couldn't hide my smile as we walked back to the sound production area.

“I get it, you know,” Jake said. “When my dad died, I didn't want to talk about it, either.”

“Thanks.” I wished there was a better word in the English language than
thanks
. A word that said, “I'm so glad I know you, and you are the best.”

Mr. Calhoun swept past us, clipboard in hand, positioning people on their marks for the start of the show. Mrs. Smith was right on his heels.

“What do you say, people? Are we ready to rock this?” she called out.

“What do you say?” Jake asked. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, and he squeezed my hand. The lights went dark, and we all held our breath, waiting for the show to start. For another new beginning. It wasn't perfect. And it wasn't home.

But I was right where I belonged.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THE FIRST TIME I HEARD ABOUT THE CHILDHOOD CANCER CALLED
neuroblastoma, I was a new mother living in Park Slope, Brooklyn. A neighbor's son was battling the disease. That morning, I read her blog and cried like I'd never cried before. I couldn't believe the struggle these families faced. I wanted desperately to DO something to help.

Soon enough, my opportunity arose. Another local mom launched a challenge to bake 100,000 cookies to raise funds for childhood cancer research. Her son Liam also suffered from neuroblastoma. I joined the baking effort, meeting in a half-broken rental kitchen on Stuyvesant Avenue and then at the French Culinary Institute. I loved to bake, and supporting Cookies for Kids' Cancer was something I could DO.

Thank you to Cookies for Kids' Cancer for continuing to lead the fight against childhood cancer (readers can support Cookies at www.cookiesforkidscancer.org). It is my great hope that one day the groundbreaking treatments depicted in this book will be outdated, because childhood cancers will be curable. While Memorial Sloan Kettering and 3F8
are real, Val's story is fiction, and any errors in the depiction of his treatment are my own. To Toby, Angelina, Max, Will, and Erin: I tried my best to show your truth.

To my fearless champion and brainstorming partner, Peter Knapp: your faith in me is a gift. From the moment you wrote during the Super Bowl to say you'd just finished reading my pages, I knew we were a match. It's not often that you find someone who shares your exact sensibility in books, and I'm grateful that I have that in you.

To Stacey Barney, whose keen editorial eye shone a light on every opportunity for improvement, thank you for helping me write the best book I could write. I remember our first call, when you asked me what I wanted—not for the book, not in a publisher, but for myself, as an author. I said I wanted to write a damn good book. You held me to it. Thank you also to my publisher, Jennifer Besser, and the entire Penguin team, including Bridget Hartzler, Marikka Tamura, Theresa Evangelista, Kate Meltzer, and Cindy Howle. Special thanks to artist Pascal Campion for the incredible cover art!

To Rebecca Sutton, for your many reads, texts, commiserations, and hugs—thank you so much. I've got your back. For early reads and words of encouragement, thank you to Jen Malone, Dee Romito, Stefanie Wass, April Wall, Hay Farris, and Heidi Schulz. To Tracy Holczer, thank you for your patience with my countless Facebook messages. Thank you to the #MGbetareaders for being the best group of writers on the planet, and to the Sweet Sixteens for giving me a place to vent.

To the Novel Bites, for sharing every step of this process with so much genuine enthusiasm and celebration (re: wine): Christine Houseworth, Bridget Lai, Léana Lu, Barbara Quinn, Melissa Biren, Michelle Scotti, and Romaine Williamson. I am so lucky to know all of you incredible women!

Thank you to my friends: Jessamyn, Katie, Natasha, Jeff (for the acronyms), Louisa (for loaning me Tate), Colten (for sharing that heart of yours!), Words Bookstore (for being the best indie bookstore ever!), and the librarians at the South Orange library: Ms. Beth, Ms. Keisha, and Ms. Cynthia. You run the best children's library!

There are people in life who help you grow from a messy lump of feelings into someone with purpose. For me, that person is Vince Foote. For every tough critique in studio, every callout, every smile, and every wink of encouragement, THANK YOU FOR BEING MY MENTOR (you'll get the use of CAPS).

There are also people who are a part of your life from the beginning. Marisa, you've been there all the way. You even stuck with me through a hurricane in twenty-degree weather (plus four bottles of wine). Thank you for being my counselor, cheerleader, stylist, reader, sistah, and friend. Yes, I'm writing more books as fast as I can!

Growing up, I was fortunate to have parents who believed in me. To my parents, Tom and Cheryl Andres, thank you for supporting every single move I've ever made. You taught me what it is to work hard, and how to love. You have always made me feel like I counted. I love you.

To my boys, who are the most energetic human beings I know: You are amazing people. You are so curious, so brave and determined. I admire you. Thank you, Perry, for helping your brother with his homework while Mommy was working. Thank you, Alec, for all of the hugs and high fives. Yes, Mommy's book is finally real!

Sometimes when I tell people that I married my high school sweetheart, I get a few eye rolls. I always say we tried our best to get away from each other, but that's a lie. The truth is, I never wanted to be with anyone else. Thank you for loving me, Andrew.

Finally, to New York City: The first time I met you, I didn't know what to think. I was just a girl from North Carolina. You were larger than life and so much fun, but loud and strange. That first time, I was happy to leave. It took me a few years to realize how much I missed you. I'm so glad I got to come back. New York, you are magic.

In memory of Jenny Chang. I think of you
often.

MELANIE CONKLIN
is a writer, reader, and all-around lover of books and those who create them. She lives in South Orange, New Jersey, with her husband and two small maniacs. Melanie spent a decade as a product designer and approaches her writing with the same three-dimensional thinking and fastidious attention to detail.
Counting Thyme
is her debut
novel.

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