The Rumor

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As many of you are certainly aware, this novel was written while I was battling breast cancer. I have dedicated it to my surgeons, who are among the most brilliant, talented, professional human beings I have ever encountered. In addition, I would like to thank my medical oncologist, Steven Isakoff, for continuing to keep me in good health, and everyone else who treated me at Massachusetts General Hospital. A special thanks to the women in Dr. Colwell’s office, most specifically Agnes Santomarco, Heather Parker, Amy Israelian, Kelly Hurley, and Mary Joyce.

I was buoyed by those of you who reached out to me, either on Facebook or in other ways-many of you are fighting or have fought this battle yourselves. Every word and thought and prayer was cherished.

I have to thank my family, my friends, my home team, too many people to name, who dropped off food and sent flowers, and people who stopped me in the street or in the aisles of the grocery store to let me know they were thinking of me. Of special note: my sorority sisters of Phi Mu at the Johns Hopkins University-amazing reach-out!-spearheaded by Sue Plano. And, in no particular order: my sister Heather Osteen Thorpe, my “person” Debbie Briggs, Charles and Margaret Marino, Rebecca Bartlett, Wendy Rouillard (iced tea delivery), Evelyn MacEachern (macaron delivery), Mary Haft (prayers galore), Wendy Hudson, Elizabeth Almodobar, Jill Roethke, Jill Surprenant, Anne Gifford, Manda Riggs, my sister-in-law and fellow survivor, Lisa Hilderbrand, Helaina Jones, Heidi Holdgate (the pool is my happy place), Shelly Weedon, Holly McGowan, Melissa MacVicar, Stephanie McGrath, Laurie Richards, Mark and Eithne Yelle, Lori Snell, Logan O’Connor, Sheila Carroll, Jeanne and Richard Diamond, John and Martha Sargent-and my nanny, Erin Frawley, who managed to give my kids a normal, carefree summer at Nobadeer Beach, despite the big curveball.

Mark and Gwen Snider of the Nantucket Hotel-the club was my refuge, and much of this novel was composed poolside. Thank you for the sanctuary.

Michael Carlisle and David Forrer, there aren’t words. You are simply sent from heaven.

Reagan Arthur, there really aren’t words. You are to editing what Bruce Springsteen is to the rock anthem, what Mr. Blahnik is to the stiletto, what Bobby Flay is to the grill. You are the best in your field, and each year I stand more in awe of your talent and sensibility.

Last, I would like to thank my children, Maxwell, Dawson, and Shelby Cunningham. Having a mother who is writing two novels a year and battling cancer is kind of like having no mother at all, but the three of you managed to make me feel like I was doing something right each and every day just by listening to your voices and watching you grow. You are the reason I fight, you are the reason I write, you are what makes my life whole and complete, and I love you.