Tomorrow There Will Be Sun by Dana Reinhardt

Author:Dana Reinhardt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

• • •

I FIND INGRID ALONE, reading in the main floor living room. She’s on to another children’s book. Another Newbery runner-up. Another book I haven’t read.

I ask her about it.

“I love it,” she says. “I’m not sure what the committee was thinking this year. All of the silver medals are far better than the book they actually gave the award to.”

“I guess consensus is difficult. Maybe it was a compromise?”

She shrugs, pulls the throw blanket up to her chest and puts the book down on the table. She’s settling in for a nice long chat. I hesitate to sit down with her. I’m still rattled by what Peter told me about Solly and Gavriella. The weight of that knowledge is a boulder in my stomach.

When Solly started his affair with Ingrid, Peter didn’t tell me. He kept Solly’s secret. He didn’t want to put me in an awkward position with Maureen, who, unlike Ingrid, was a true, close friend. Peter told me later that he pushed Solly to come clean, that it would have gone on much longer had he not spent many nights over many drinks with Solly playing out the different scenarios and convincing him he needed to make a choice. I always wondered if Peter tried talking Solly into choosing Maureen, into staying married to his wife, to the woman he once loved so fiercely that he sobbed through his own wedding vows.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t know about the affair; on some level I know Maureen still holds it against me. Our four lives were interwoven in such a way that our relationship couldn’t avoid some collateral damage from such an ugly implosion. And by virtue of the fact that I am married to Peter, I am forever a part of the universe of Solly from which she needed escape. But once she resettled in New York and things starting turning out as well as they did for her—new job, new friends, new gorgeous apartment, new string of boyfriends ending in one serious, unreasonably handsome one—we started to rebuild what we’d lost, text by text, email by email, and brief visit by brief visit. But of course, things were never quite the same between us.

I sit down in the chair across from Ingrid and I push what I know out of my head. What do I know anyway? Peter didn’t really tell me anything. I chose to take Peter’s silence in response to my question about Solly as a yes, because in all our years together we’ve developed a shorthand. But I don’t know for certain, do I? And if I don’t know something for certain, how can I tell her about what I don’t know?

“The Printz winner, though,” Ingrid says. “Now, that’s a book that deserved the gold.”

I haven’t read this either so I just nod in agreement. There’s really no excuse for a writer of YA fiction not reading the book that’s been crowned best book of the year written for young adults.

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