Maame(106)

Mum LONDON

Do you think Sam will propose soon?

Does he know he needs my blessing?

I will give him my blessing but still he must ask.





* * *



After a while I say, “Dad, I should go. Sam’s mum’s coming round for lunch and she prefers it when everything is homemade, so I need time to reheat and convincingly plate the food Mum made the night before.” I pull my knees to my chin and look at Dad’s headstone a little longer before getting to my feet. “See you soon, okay?”

The sun gleams against his marble headstone and throws a strip of light onto my face. I laugh and look up to a patch of blue sky.

“Subtle, Dad,” I tell him, squinting in the sun. “Really subtle.”





Acknowledgments


I will attempt to keep this short, because if I don’t, I run the risk of this being pages long, and you’ve already read an entire book. If I don’t succeed, know that I tried.

Every author says this (perhaps because it’s true), but I couldn’t have done this without three special people. First up, we have literary agent extraordinaire Jemima Forrester, who had nothing but love, laughter, and I think a few tears for Maddie the moment she read my manuscript in its earliest stage and rawest form. My U.K. editor, Olivia Barber, who loved Maame so much that during the submission and auction process the words “She won’t go down without a fight” were uttered more than once. To Sarah Cantin, my U.S. editor, whose personal, soft spot for Maddie and her father resonated with me so deeply, I knew she was the one as soon as our call had ended. I love your ebullience and how whenever you tell me you’re excited to read Maame again, I believe you each and every time. I’m not sure it’s often an author enjoys a lengthy editing process but as I’ve mentioned many times (one particularly long email I sent on the 28th of July comes to mind), I loved it. The three of you make an unrivaled team in my opinion, and I love that this is only the beginning for us.

And of course, to my U.S. agent/matchmaker, Michelle Brower, thank you for introducing me to the wonder that is Sarah, and for voluntarily joining online meetings at what I imagine felt like the crack of dawn for you.

To Sallie Lotz and Drue VanDuker because I know well enough by now that there is no such thing as being “only an assistant” and I don’t need to be sat in the office beside you to know how hard you both must work. To Jen Enderlin, thank you so much for falling in love with Maame and to everyone else on the Maame team who I’ve met virtually and have yet to meet:

Lisa Senz, Anne Marie Tallberg, Dori Weintraub, Erica Martirano (I wildly appreciate that favor you cashed in), Austin Adams, Kejana Ayala, Alexandra Hoopes, Tom Thompson, Kim Ludlam, Olga Grlic, Lena Shekhter, Lizz Blaise, Kiffin Steurer, Jen Edwards, Robert Allen, Mary Beth Roche, and Emily Dyer.

I’ve heard only a fraction of all the magic you’re doing for this book, and I thank you for it. I also want to thank everyone else at St. Martin’s Press just for reading Maame because it’s an incredible thing to have Sarah constantly tell me how much of a unanimous decision it was to take me on as an author.

To my mum, who, although she’s more thoughtful and supportive than Maddie’s, is just as full of funny one-liners. To this day my favorite continues to be this Valentine’s Day special:

Mummy Dearest

Darling

Have you a valentine this year?

Me

No, mum

Mummy Dearest

Okay.

Let Jesus be your valentine.

I couldn’t make up your one-liners if I tried. Although I jest, I can’t describe what it’s like or means to have a mother who constantly thinks of and prays for you, especially when I remember you do so because you truly believe it’s the greatest thing you can do for me. I hope to never forget that. Thanks for eventually coming around to my dream of being an author after I mercilessly trampled on your dreams of me becoming a lawyer/doctor/veterinarian. To my older brother who unknowingly saved me when he refused to get off the phone until I asked a friend to come and stay with me, and to my younger brother who, whenever I’m asked to talk about him, my first response is: “I just love him very much.”

There is a reason why Nia and Shu are undisputed favorites for readers. To Ashleigh La’Rose Wright Mitchell, my very own Nia, who never runs out of pride and encouragement when it comes to everything I put my mind to. I can’t quite describe Ashleigh—you just have to know her, and it’s a downright shame some of you never will. In a world of fair-weather friendships and fickle acquaintances, the greatest thing anyone can do is have an Ashleigh in their corner. I try not to think on it too deeply, but if you hadn’t dropped everything and packed a bag to come and stay with me when my dad died, I might not have written this story. I don’t say how grateful I am to have you in my life enough, but now that I’ve written this book, perhaps I won’t always have to (even though I’m sure it’s always nice to hear).

To Camila Bloise, my Shu, who I’m certain has no idea she kept me as “Jess” when my dad died. I was saying to myself just the other day that for more than a decade, despite different universities, jobs, friendship groups, and area codes, we always find our way back to each other. I often think about the time I sat you down in the Dishoom in King’s Cross after you brought me back so much chocolate and candy from the U.S. it warranted an extra suitcase just to tell you how much I loved you and wished I’d appreciated you more years before. I’ve not stopped appreciating you since, and now you can’t get rid of me. Now I’m the friend who sends you eight-minute-long voice notes about coconut jelly in my bubble tea on a random Wednesday afternoon whilst you’re trying to work.