“Grappa,” Louis said. “Puts hair on your chest.”
“Louis’s cousin makes it,” Alex said, squeezing my hand.
“To Vannah!” Louis raised his tiny glass toward us. “The glasses, I leave to you. May you use them in good health.”
We clinked our glasses together. Some of the grappa spilled on my finger and got in a crack at the cuticle. It stung like all hell. I sucked on my finger while Louis drank. Alex dumped his into the sink while Louis was busy pouring for the rest of his guests.
Alex and Peter somehow got into a discussion about local animal husbandry laws. And once Peter got going on anything legal there was no stopping him. I gave Alex a sympathetic smile and did the rounds to meet my new neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Whitehall lived across the street. They had nine children who were all grown up. Mrs. McCairn was a widow who had dressed in all black for twenty- nine years. Mr. Hewn had an eye patch like a pirate. Ms. Murphy preferred to be called Lenore and called Louis “Louie.” And Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell wore matching Buffalo Bills jogging suits with bright white sneakers.
They stayed for hours. They ate and drank and asked questions that made me blush and said things like, “We’re so happy our Alex has found such a nice girl.” They moved on to coffee and crumb cake, requested decaf, and stirred in Sweet’N Low packets Louis must have nabbed from a restaurant.
And then the house was mine. They filed out one by one, leaving sloppy kisses on my cheek and slapping Louis on the back.
When Peter and Janie left, Janie said, “I’ll come over tomorrow and help you unpack.” She looked at Alex and then back at me. “But not too early, I promise.”
Agnes and Louis were the last to go. Somehow he’d talked her into giving him a ride to Alex’s house, where he was staying until he moved to Florida.
“Ah, bella!” Louis put both hands on my cheeks. “You be happy here.” It was a royal decree. He patted my shoulders and walked out the door like he’d made it so.
Agnes hugged me good- bye. “That Louis is something,” she whispered breathlessly in my ear.
Alex shut the door behind them and grinned.
“Hey,” he said. “I got something for you.”
“Is it a pony? I’ve always wanted a pony.”
“Yes,” Alex said, nodding his head and grinning. “It’s a pony. You’re totally zoned for ponies here, I think.”
“I’m sure you can always ask Peter about it,” I said.
Alex laughed. “He sure can talk,” he said, “but he and Janie are really nice.”
“They’re amazing,” I said. “They’re good friends.”
Alex went out to the garage and came back with a paint can and two brushes. “I know how you feel about orange, so I thought we could change things up.” He pulled a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and pried the can open.
“Close your eyes,” he said, waiting to pick up the lid so I couldn’t see the color.
I closed my eyes and put my hands over my face.
I heard a soft swish.
“Okay.”
Alex had painted the outline of a heart on the wall in a beautiful deep red.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. I gave him a little jab in his ribs. “Is this how you get the ladies, going around painting hearts on their walls? Did Louis tell you to do that?”
“Nope,” Alex said, laughing, “I thought of it all myself.” He filled in the heart with more paint. “Do you really like it?”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I love it.”
“Really? You can tell me if you don’t.”
“I never would have picked it, but it’s perfect. I would have picked white or something. Eggshell,” I said, thinking about my blue wall disaster. “But that’s so boring.”
“It screamed you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was at Home Depot and the paint chip was just screaming and waving around. Savannah! Savannah!” Alex waved his hands around in my face.
“You’re such a goofball,” I said, smiling. “Eh, I’ll keep you anyway.”
“You better.” He slipped his hand into my back pocket.
“So, I’m not very good at painting,” I said, thinking of the messy bright blue wall in my condo.
“Well, that, my friend, is about to change.” He handed me the paintbrush.
“Now?”
“It’s easier to paint without furniture everywhere. We can move your stuff in later.”
I ran out to the moving truck to get the record player and my mom’s old records.
“Oh, this is a great album,” Alex said, slipping
Don’t Look Back
out of its sleeve as I cleared a space on the kitchen counter for the record player. “I love Boston.”
“Me too,” I said.
We put the record on. I hadn’t listened to it in years, but I still knew every skip and pop in the vinyl.
Joe stole Alex’s paintbrush and dripped paint all over the kitchen floor. We wiped it up, but we left a single paint paw print in the corner for posterity. And we laughed and painted and listened to Boston until the whole kitchen was a beautiful red.
Acknowledgments
To my wonderful agent, Rebecca Strauss, thank you for all your hard work, your wisdom, tenacity, patience, and fantastic sense of humor. Thank you for making my dream come true. And a huge thank-you, also, to Ian Polonsky, and everyone at McIntosh and Otis.
To my editor, Erika Imranyi, thank you for your fierce dedication to this book, every step of the way. Thank you to Brian Tart, Ava Kavyani, Christine Ball, and the fantastic team at Dutton for giving Van and Joe such a wonderful home. And thanks to Monica Benalcazar for designing a jacket that captures the essence of
Stay
so perfectly.
To my long-suffering writing group in all its incarnations: Joan Pedzich, Melanie Krebs, Jennifer DeVille, Keith Pedzich, Liz Valentine, Darby Knox, Erica Curtis, and Eric Brown. I don’t have big enough words to thank you. You are my favorite writers.
Thanks to Neil Gordon for being awesome way beyond the need for exclamation points. To Corinne Bowen, thank you for being my fellow fiction writer in the “cubicle” next door. Your words and kindness amaze me. To Michele Christiano, thank you for all of your support and sage advice.
Thank you to my kind and patient friends who sat down with a huge stack of rumpled papers and gave me constructive and critical feedback: Dash Hedgeman, Mindae Kadous, Rachel Chaffee, Kim Janczak, and Emily Brown. To Kristin Dezen, Brian Herzlinger, Bryan Hoerauf, Jen Bloom, Vince, MMC, and MOD, thank you for your support and your belief in me and my book. Thank you to Ben Fountain, for being so kind and generous.
To my beautiful and inspiring Ladies: Sarah Playtis (the best messy friend a girl could ask for), Julie Smith (thanks for letting me use the whole half!), Brenda Kirkwood, Lisa Malin, and Rainbow Heinrichs, thank you. Van and Janie wouldn’t have such a deep and durable friendship if it weren’t for you.
Thanks to Form Collective: J, Xtian, Chris, and Joe for the amazing Web work, and also for being so collective, and having great form. To Writers & Books, for making Rochester such a rich place to be a reader and writer. To Chris Sutton at Wergo, Inc., for keeping me strong and constantly reminding me of my successes. To Armanda and everyone at Made You Look, for providing such a wonderful oasis in the middle of Rochester. To Nick Tebrake, and everyone at The Kittle House. And to Dog Holiday, Eastridge Veterinary Hospital, Animal Emergency Services, Cornell Companion Animal Hospital, Wooftown Doggie Daycare, and the German Shepherd playgroup for keeping my good buddies happy, healthy, and active.
Thank you to The Greenists: Melissa, Mickey, NPW, A Free Man, Noelle, Made By Rachel, The Modern Gal, Stefanie, Dianne, Dingo, and especially Courtney Craig. To David Quilty at The Good Human for being my blogging guru, and to Vera Sweeny at I’m Not Obsessed for introducing me to the wonderful world of blogging. And thank you to all of my blog, Facebook, and Twitter friends for cheering me on along the way.
Sarah Freligh, thank you for starting it all with two little words, and giving me such a solid set of fiction tools. To Bill Waddell, for all the help, encouragement, and root beer. To Sarah, Bill, Mary Anne Donovan, Jonathan Rich, James Lohrey, and MJ Iuppa, thank you for being such supportive, inspiring teachers and for continuing to include me in the community of creative people at St. John Fisher College. To Jack Hrkach, Barbara Anger, and Susannah Berryman, at Ithaca College, for teaching me how to create a character. To Marty Heresniak, for taking such an interest in how I learn. Thank you to Bea Matz, Beverly Lewis, and John Cuk. To Bira Rabushka, for creating an environment where creativity and kindness mattered above all else, and to all my teachers from NWCA, especially Ray Girardin, Jan Callner, Joan Thundhorst, Bobbie Bramson, Christine Kluge, Roger Baumann, Alysa Haas, and, of course, the incredible Joe Tomasini-thank you for being my village.
Thank you to the Larkins: Doug, Terry, Jacob, Amanda, Jason, Jack-son, Emma, and especially Michele, for your endless encouragement and for letting me plaster the Larkin name on a book full of bad words.
Most important, Jeremy, thank you for your unwavering support, limitless love and patience, and for being even better than the man of my dreams. You made this all possible. And, special thanks to Ez, Stella, and, of course, my trusty dog, Argo.
About the Author
Allie Larkin lives in Rochester, New York, with her husband, their two German Shepherds, Argo and Stella, and a three-legged cat. She is the cofounder of
TheGreenists.com
, a site dedicated to helping readers take simple steps toward going green.
Stay
is her first novel.