Outside the hospital, Frost drove through the darkness back to his Russian Hill house. The hill always felt like it was on top of the world, as if he could roll a marble down and watch it bounce all the way to the bay. He was tired, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was lonely. He was often alone, but rarely lonely. But tonight was one of those nights. When he stared at the house, it felt big and empty, not like home at all.
He carried Shack inside, but when he opened the door, he smelled the spicy aroma of chicken parmigiana, and he heard male voices from the living room. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had family.
His brother was there.
Herb was there, too.
“Sierra Nevada?” Herb called, hoisting a wet bottle from a cooler on the floor.
“You read my mind,” Frost said. He was suddenly wide awake.
His brother stood up and grabbed bowls of hummus and olives. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Duane said. “Come on, let’s sit outside.”
The three of them headed for the patio. Herb brought the cooler. Shack jumped on the glass table and closed his eyes against the breeze. Down the hill, San Francisco spread out in a million lights below them, and fog clung to the distance. They clinked bottles, they drank, and Herb began telling old stories from his days in the Summer of Love. Soon they forgot all about dinner, and they hung around on the wrought-iron chairs with their feet propped on the railing, laughing and getting very loud until the night was mostly gone.
Acknowledgments
Getting a book in your hands requires a lot of work from many talented people.
It’s been a privilege to work with the entire team at Thomas & Mercer on The Night Bird. Jacque Ben-Zekry did an amazing job leading the project, from the earliest editorial concepts through all the design and marketing plans. Charlotte Herscher provided great insights on editorial issues. Kjersti Egerdahl and Alan Turkus were instrumental in bringing the book to Thomas & Mercer. I’m grateful to all of them for all their faith, support, and effort on my behalf — and to the whole Thomas & Mercer staff for getting behind this book.
My agent, Deborah Schneider, makes all of this possible on the business side, along with her terrific team — Cathy, Victoria, and Penelope.
When I finish the first draft of a novel, I get feedback from advance readers before the book goes to my publishers. My wife, Marcia, is the best (and toughest) editor an author could hope for. A big thanks to her and to Ann Sullivan for their helpful and thoughtful feedback on the draft of The Night Bird.
Of course, Marcia is not only my first editor, but more importantly, she has been my best friend and partner for more than three decades. She gets the first two words in every book, and she always will.
On a sad note, I lost my dad while I was in the midst of writing The Night Bird. For ninety years, he had the secret of life figured out: smile and laugh often, cherish your spouse, turn strangers into friends, and devote yourself to the things that make you happy and proud. He may not be with me now, but I’m still learning from him every day. I miss you, Dad.