Loss (Psychology)—Fiction. 2. Life change events—Fiction. 3. Self-realization in women—Fiction. 4. Self-actualization (Psychology) in women—Fiction. I. Title. II. Title: It is you.
PS3616.O78I87 2016
813'.6—dc23
2015001531
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley trade paperback edition / June 2015
Cover photos: “Woman Swinging” by Brooke Pennington / Getty Images; “Vintage background of old photos with keys on a table” by Neirfy / Shutterstock Images; “Beautiful vineyard landscape” by Mythja / Shutterstock Images; “Vintage Wallpaper” by Irtsya / Shutterstock Images.
Cover design by Rita Frangie.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
It’s You is dedicated to my family who came before me: the Gansneders, Mullendores, Platzs, Schneiders, Riedls, Wertzs, Venemanns, Brotts, and Cutsingers.
To my late father, who took us to live in Nuremberg for a year so we could see the world.
To my mother, who made sure we understood that it is important to know where you come from, so you know where you want to go.
To my sister and brothers, who journeyed with me.
To my husband and sons, whom I love dearly.
To all who live, hope, and dream.
Let us not just remember. Let us do better.
Courage. Unity. Love.
Peace.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to the wonderful, generous German editor Iris Paepke, who had a conversation with me in Berlin on May 23, 2014, at the CORA/MIRA Taschenbuch dinner that stayed with me, giving life to the Berlin in this story . . . and who then, months later, took the time to read the manuscript and give me feedback. I am deeply indebted to you. Thank you.
Thank you to the founders and organizers of the LoveLetter Convention, Kris Alice Hohls and Katrin Grassmann, for inviting me to join you in Berlin and making me fall in love with Germany and Berlin all over again. Also huge thanks and hugs to Meghan Farrell for attending the conference with me and making it so fun.
Talia Seehoff, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this story in chunks and giving me feedback and encouragement. I never forgot how my story is also tied to “your story.” Thank you for keeping it real.
Thank you to my agent, Holly Root, for believing in me and supporting me, and a huge thank-you to my brilliant editor, Cindy Hwang, for understanding what I was trying to do with Ali’s and Edie’s stories and helping me get there.
Lastly, thank you to my family for loving me even when I’m a mad, creative disaster. You keep me sane.
CONTENTS
Praise for Jane Porter
Books by Jane Porter
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Readers Guide
ONE
Ali
For over a year following Andrew’s death I showed up and performed and executed perfectly.
I handled that horrible year and the next few months so well that I’d begun to think the worst was behind me.
And then I got the note.
I’d left the office on my lunch, dashing to the Nordstrom at the Scottsdale Fashion Square for a pair of shoes for Dad. He has a birthday coming up in late June and I’m hoping to see him Memorial Day weekend. I’d meant to go north for Easter but Dr. Morris took time off and I was needed. Dad was fine with it but I think he’d appreciate a new pair of Clarks, even if he doesn’t do as much walking in his retirement home.
I’d zipped into the shopping mall, made the purchase, and was hurrying back to my car, pleased that I’d still have time for a quick bite of lunch at the office before my first afternoon appointment, when I noticed the scrap of paper on my windshield, pinned to the glass by the windshield wiper. I tugged on the paper, sliding it free and reading the blue scrawl.
Dumbfounded, I set the paper shopping bag at my feet and flipped the note over. The back was blank and I read the scribble of blue ink again.
“Asshole” had been underlined.
The A was huge. The two s’s looked almost like z’s.
For a moment I thought it was a joke, or a mistake.
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