People Who Knew Me (37 page)
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Authors: Kim Hooper
“What about me?” she says.
She's wearing a moss-green dress I bought her for this occasion, with a pair of heelsâher first pair. They're white, with two thick straps across the front of her foot. I can hardly call them heels; they're elevated a half inch off the floor. It's obvious she feels more grown-up in them, though.
“Beautiful,” I tell her. “Really beautiful.”
We stand outside his door. It has an old-fashioned knocker, a metal lion's head. I wonder if Drew or his wife is looking through the peephole. I compose my face just in case.
“Go ahead, sweetie,” I say.
This is for her. All of this is for her.
She knocks tentatively, looking at me as she does. I hear footsteps approaching, then the flipping of a lock. The doorknob turns. And then, right there, is my past, instantly familiar. His eyesâthose eyesâmeet mine for a quick second before they dart down at our daughter.
“Hi,” she says.
“You must be Claire.”
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If you're like me, you read the acknowledgments for a small glimpse into the author's life and how the book came to be. So, here's your glimpse.
I've been writing books since I was in elementary school. When I gained enough skill and foolishness to submit novels to agents, I met with a lot of rejection. My mom always said, “It will happen. It's just a matter of time.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, but she was right. Mom, thank you for believing in me when I thought it was ridiculous to do so. And thank you for being such a voracious readerâof not just my writing, but of books in general. I hope we trade novels back and forth for decades to come.
Dad, thank you, too. You're big on not giving up, and I have to think that had something to do with this book existing in the world beyond my computer's hard drive.
Over the years, I've been rejected by many agents, and I kept a list of ones who were at least nice about it. Andrea Somberg was first on that list. So, when I finished my first draft of this book, I sent pages to her. Much to my surprise, she responded immediately and wanted to read the whole thing. A few days later, we were chatting on the phone, and she was so complimentary of the story that I was blushing like a schoolgirl. Thank you, Andrea, for holding my naive hand through all of this. My anxiety appreciates your fast response to e-mails.
Thank you to everyone at St. Martin's Press, especially my editor, Brenda Copeland, and her assistants, Laura Chasen and Michelle Ma. Brenda, you made me realize the true value of an editor. As a writer, when you finish a book, you think it's truly done. You can't see how it could be better. So, when you get an editor's notes, it's a shock to the system. There is so much insecurity and self-doubt. You were there to encourage me through all that. Next time, I'll look forward to your much-needed perspective, instead of fearing the revisions it entails. Also, thank you for making me aware of my problematic obsession with em-dashes. Did you see I snuck a couple into the dedication? You're welcome.
Also, I may be a decent writer, but I suck at self-promotion, so thank you to my publicity team, led by Katie Kurtzman and Brittani Hilles.
To all my early readers (Eurie, Megan, Meredith, Huong, Lauren, Jess, Jay, Steph, and Toni, to name a few), thank you for taking the time. I know some of that early stuff was cringe-worthy.
To Ken Medina, my middle school English teacher, I don't think you realize the impact you had. You made me really love reading. You made me believe I could be a writer (and you convinced me that was a valid path).
Thank you to my sister, Ashley, for the talks about staying true to my creative self. I'm not sure how two physical therapists produced a writer and a photographer, but here we are.
Going with the cliché of saving the best for last, thank you to my loving, left-brained husband. He describes himself as “not a reader,” yet he will reread my novels over and over again and brainstorm solutions to problems with me. He also catches weird errors (“I thought this character's hair was brown. Here you say it's blond”). Chris, in many ways, I don't know what I (or my characters and their variable hair) would do without you. I'm sure you didn't know what you were getting into marrying a sensitive, introverted writer, and yet you stand by me and continue to make audacious claims like, “You're perfect for me.” All I can say in return is that you're perfect for me, too.
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Kim Hooper
lives in Southern California with her husband and an absurd number of pets.
People Who Knew Me
is her first novel. You can sign up for email updates
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CONTENTS
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
PEOPLE WHO KNEW ME.
Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Hooper. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Cover design by James Iacobelli
Cover photograph by Tara Violet Niami
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-07798-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-9030-5 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466890305
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at
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First Edition: May 2016