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I frowned. “Win her back?”
He grinned. “Yeah!” he said. “You just have to win her back. That’s what they do in movies. You have to show her that you are worthy of her love!”
“How would I do that?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I’m just a kid.”
This made me laugh and I reached out and tousled his hair. “Well, how about you and I brainstorm some ideas, but in the meantime, we have other things we have to worry about. I have work and you have school. Speaking of which, don’t you have a project you need to be working on?”
“I finished it already,” he said. “And Dad, we have to do something fast! Before she goes back to Riverside!”
I ignored his plea to take action and went back to the schoolwork thing. “If you finished your project already, then what were you doing late last night? I thought I saw you reading stuff for school.”
“That wasn’t for school,” he said. “I was reading a book.”
“What book? It was looseleaf paper.”
“It’s a draft of Stephanie’s book,” Will said. “She gave me the first few chapters a couple days before she left.”
“Stephanie’s book? How many chapters does she have written?”
“I’m not sure,” said Will. “But I have the first three printed out. She saved some of what she wrote on your office laptop, because that’s the one that’s set up to the printer so you can read some of it for yourself. It’s really good, Dad. I hope she keeps writing.”
Then it hit me. “That’s it!” I hugged him. “That’s it! Her book. That’s how I’m going to win her back. I’m going to show her how much I care by helping her with her book. I’m going to find someone to publish it.”
“Yes!” Will said. “She’ll be so excited.”
“This is great,” I said. “I have to go make some calls.”
“Hurry Dad!” He yelled as I ran up the stairs. “Remember! She’s leaving tomorrow!”
* * *
It took me two and a half hours, but finally I found an extended family member who had connections in the publishing world. It was early evening in San Francisco, which meant it was late in New York City, but I made the call anyway. The woman in charge of the publishing house, whose number I’d gotten from a second cousin on my mom’s side, picked up after the fourth ring and I could hear the sounds of a busy restaurant in the background.
“Hello?” she barked into the phone.
“Hello,” I said. “Is this Mrs. Kendal? Of Kendal Publishing House.”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi, yes, my name is Matthew Becker, you know my cousin, Cynthia. She said you two were in the same sorority back in college.”
“Rings a bell.” Her tone was flat, unamused. “Why did she give you my number?”
“Right, good question. She gave me your number because I am looking for someone to publish a book. A friend of mine wrote it, or is writing it, and it’s fantastic. I know your publishing house focuses on young adult, and this is for readers of late elementary to middle-school ages—”
“That’s too young,” she said. “We don’t print books for ages below 14.”
“But this book is really good,” I said. “Like, amazing. I’ve read it myself and—”
“And what exactly do you know about children’s books, Mr. Becker?”
“Not much,” I said. I was sitting in my home office, and the sun was beginning to set outside. I was losing time. “But I have a son who is the right age for the target audience and he loves it! I mean, he loves it. And he’s a big reader, so he knows what he’s talking about when he says it’s good. I promise you. If I could just send you the first few chapters, all you’d have to do is read them over and let me know what you think.”
She sighed. “Fine. For Cynthia, I will read the first couple chapters. Send them and I’ll get back to you next week.”
I winced. “The thing is, I would need you to read them tonight.”
