It was not long before he could tell her arm was tired. But she wasn’t deterred, and didn’t hesitate in leaning forward and planting a kiss on his bulbous, crimson head, licking awkwardly, like a hesitant cat, around its ridge. Enveloping him, her mouth was warm, wet. His shoulders hunched and he let out an involuntary, high sound; his head leaned back and he shut his eyes; his right hand went onto the back of her head. Oliver felt the barren desert of her skin. The air in the room warmer, her breaths coming at shorter intervals. She went at him, gallant and resolute, going faster, her eyes shut, cheeks pulsing.
But he was not close.
He was careful in lifting her off him, and he brought her to his face, and kissed her with all the tenderness in him, and on her lips tasted his own heat and salt.
Oliver pulled Alice’s bird-frail body to him. He took her face into his shoulder, caressed the back of her head, and laughed, amazed, holding her to him.
She was sobbing by now, and her sobs continued for a time, their force increasing, sending her body into racked, great heaves.
“Favorito,” he said. “Favorito.”
Acknowledgments
In the summer of 2009, my late wife, Diana Joy Colbert, was diagnosed with leukemia; our daughter was six months old. Diana was sick for two and a half years, and passed away three days before our daughter’s third birthday. During those years, more people than I could ever document went out of their way to help our family. You tried and you made our lot easier. A thank-you doesn’t begin to convey my gratitude. Know you have my unending love and thanks. I hope these feelings have been conveyed in person. Again, you mean the world to me.
I similarly cannot begin to list or thank the many people who helped try to put me back together after Diana passed. There are just too many for these meager pages. We are the sum of our friendships, and this makes me very lucky.
Diana kept a journal during parts of her ordeal, in the hope that she would write a memoir and that her experience would help others. What she left was raw and in its early stages, far from finished, let alone publishable. But it was important to me to try and share Diana’s spirit and heart. With this in mind, portions of this book — specifically, its fourth section (“Enlightenment”), although also in the extended videotape scene near the end of section three (“And what if he flinched”) — have been inspired by select passages from that journal. In these and a few other instances, I created scenes based on journal passages, or fit sentences (or ideas) from those passages into necessary existing scenes. Sometimes this required rewriting Diana’s words, changing Diana’s voice to fit Alice’s, and/or editing down those journal passages. My goal was always to stay true to Diana’s feelings and respectful of her privacy; simultaneously, I wanted to keep the novel true to Alice’s arc and the book’s own life. I hope these many things have been accomplished, and that Diana’s love of life and will to live were properly conveyed. If they were not, it is because of my own artistic limitations.
Logistics: It’s important to thank New York University for the teaching gig; Paragraph Workspace (a.k.a. “Cubicle”) for the writing space and the support; the HALD Hovedgaard Danish-American Writers’ Retreat for some time away when I was a mess; the Civitella Ranieri Foundation, specifically Tina Summerlin and Dana Prescott, for embracing me during another horrid period; Candace Wait, Elaina Richardson, and the Corporation of Yaddo, for everything; and the Authors Guild and Alice Rubin at TEIGIT, who worked to get us a new insurance plan when life quite literally depended on it.
Special thanks to the wonderful women who’ve helped care for my kid: Sam Miller, Nina Namthip, Liza Reytblat, Jen Hyde, Joyce Sotter, Michelle Marisola, Lauren Piven, Jess Prestia. Lindsey Kennedy has been a tremendous friend.
Leigh Newman, Fiona Maazel, and Mary Beth Hughes organized and put on a fundraiser that was invaluable in help defraying some of the medical costs — this and many other generosities put me in your debt. Richard Price, Rick Moody, Jonathan Franzen, George Saunders, Jon Foer, Sean Wilsey: I can’t pay you back, any of you, not a cent, but maybe I’ll be able to pass your kindnesses forward, somehow.
Andrew Ginsburg. Gina Grimaldi. Hannah Tinti, Jaime Clarke, Nicole Krauss, Alison Smith, Sarah Jay, Sheri Fink, Will Lychack. Evan (The Rooster) Hughes and Adelle Waldman for every Saturday night for three years. Josh Ferris and Eliza Kennedy. Julie Seabaugh. Mark Roberts, who almost kept me sane.
I was supposed to deliver a manuscript to Random House years ago. The powers that be easily could have terminated my contract and saved themselves a lot of headaches; instead, under the direction of Gina Centrello, they sent my daughter a giant pink stuffed animal, helped me find sitters, were patient and supportive, and worked to turn this manuscript into a gorgeous book. Every writer should have a publishing house as supportive and smart. Thank you so much, Gina, for your care and attention. Thank you, Rodrigo Corral, for staying with it and nailing this amazing cover. Simon Sullivan, for the perfect interior design and art. Beth Pearson, for the unblinking eye and the gentle hand. Michelle Jasmine — master of the art of public relations. Andrea Walker, for stepping into a difficult spot and handling all matters like the champion you are. (I am so very excited to see what we can do together.) Caitlin McKenna, for your good spirit, efficiency, and keen advice. And my editor emeritus, David Ebershoff, is all class; he is a genius, and, moreover, he is kind. I am choked up writing this. Thank you, my friend, for holding my hand through this entire journey. No one could do better.
Jim Rutman knocks down shots whether you put a hand in his face or not; I am so proud to be his client and backcourt partner.
Howard Axelrod and Matthew Thomas answered every call, every time — a man could not ask for better friends.
Diamond, Jhanine, and Yale. TJ and Declain and Isadora. Crystal Kenneally, who is everything I could want in a sister, plus a side of guacamole. Caryl and Howard Bock, whose support and love are just endless.
David Colbert, Susannah Maurer, and Peggy Taylor. I am sorry we could not keep her. We all miss her, separately and deeply. Know that you are heroes. Know that I adore you all. More important, know that Lily loves you.
Leslie Jamison returned me to the living, made me whole again, and makes every day worthwhile. Each day I try to show my thanks, my love.
Lily is my bright and shining star.
About the Author
CHARLES BOCK is the author of the novels Alice & Oliver and Beautiful Children, which was a New York Times bestseller and Notable Book, and won the Sue Kaufman Prize for First Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Harper’s, The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and Slate, as well as in numerous anthologies. He lives with his wife, Leslie Jamison, and his daughter in New York City.