In an Instant(83)

No one, including my parents, ever asked Jeff or me what happened in the cabin or questioned why we were injured and Uncle Bob’s boys were not, and Uncle Bob and Aunt Karen continued to be my parents’ best friends.

This past winter, I went skiing with my two children, and as we rode the chairlift, my memory of that day returned. I was struck by how callous and uncaring Uncle Bob, a man I’d known my whole life and who I believed loved us, had been and also how unashamed he was after. I remember him laughing with the sheriff, like the whole thing was this great big adventure that had fortunately turned out okay. I think he even viewed himself as sort of a hero, boasting about how he’d broken the window and about his smart thinking to lead us to the cabin in the first place. When he got home, he probably told Karen about rubbing their sons’ hands and feet and about how he’d consoled them and never let them get scared.

I looked at my own children beside me, and a shudder ran down my spine as I thought about all the times I had entrusted them to other people in the same way my dad had entrusted us to Uncle Bob, counting on the same naive presumption that a tacit agreement existed for my children to be cared for equally to their own. Amusement parks, the beach, the mall, vacations nearby and afar—each time assuming my kids would be looked after and that they would be in good hands.

This book is about a catastrophe, but the real story takes place after the catalyst, in the aftermath of the calamity, when the ramifications of the choices each of the survivors made come back to haunt them. I’ve always believed regret is the most difficult emotion to live with, but in order to have regret, you need to have a conscience: an interesting paradox that allows the worst of us to suffer the least in the aftermath of wrongdoing.

I chose to tell the story from the viewpoint of Finn in order to have a fly-on-the-wall perspective that allowed honest insight into the characters, even when they believed they were alone. Writing the story through Finn’s eyes turned out to be a gift. Though she is not me, in many ways I wish I were more like her. Rarely do you get to write a character so pure in spirit. She holds a special place in my heart, and I hope you enjoyed reading her story as much as I enjoyed telling it.

Sincerely,

Suzanne





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Enormous thanks to the following people, without whom this book would not have been possible: Kevan Lyon, my agent, who kept the faith and offered invaluable guidance.

Alicia Clancy, my editor, for “getting it” and providing insight and feedback that elevated the story to the next level.

My family, for simply being them and believing in pipe dreams and miracles.

My brother Jeff, for that long-forgotten day in the mountain and his bravery, and my dad, who heroically ran down the mountain for help.

The entire team at Lake Union, including Riam Griswold, Bill Siever, and Nicole Pomeroy, for turning a humble manuscript into the beautiful finished work it became.

Sally Eastwood, for reading it first. Halle and Cary, for reading it second. Lisa Hughes Anderson and my art sisters—Amy Eidt Jackson, Helen Pollins-Jones, Cindy Fletcher, Lauren Howell, Nancy Deline, Lisa Mansour, Jacquie Broadfoot, April Brian, and Sharon Hardy—for the mystical magic of our circle that continues to go round.