Above our heads, fireworks burst, in great blooms of color and light. Silver sparks showered down, racing toward the river, and the night was full of explosions and the whistling shrieks as the spent fire-crackers hurtled through the night and into the water. I looked down. Joy’s face was rapt, her eyes wide, both her arms extended, as if she wanted to embrace what she was seeing. I smiled at Peter, holding up one finger, asking him with my eyes to wait. Then I unstrapped Joy from her carryall, putting my hands under her armpits, holding her in front of me as I scrambled to my feet. Ignoring the good-natured shouts of “Down in front!” and, “Hey, lady, be careful!” I stood on the ledge, letting the cold and the light pour down over my hair, my face, and my daughter. I raised my arms over my head and lifted Joy up toward the light.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Good in Bed would not have been possible without my brilliant, p atient, and devoted agent, Joanna Pulcini, who plucked Cannie from obscurity, cleaned her up, and found her a home. I’m grateful to Liza Nelligan’s careful reading and good advice. I also thank my editor, Greer Kessel Hendricks, whose keen eye and invaluable suggestions made this a much better book.

Thanks to Greer’s assistant, Suzanne O’Neill, and Joanna’s assistant, Kelly Smith, who answered a thousand questions and held my hand.

Thanks to Linda Michaels and Teresa Cavanaugh, who helped Cannie see the world, and Manuela Thurner, the German translator of Good in Bed, who caught a dozen discrepancies and learned the meaning of Tater Tot.

From elementary school through college, I was gifted with teachers who believed in me, and in the power of words: Patricia Ciabotti, Marie Miller, and most especially John McPhee.

I work with, and have learned from, the best people in the business at The Philadelphia Inquirer. Thanks to Beth Gillin, editor extraor-dinaire, and Gail Shister, Jonathan Storm, Carrie Rickey, Lorraine Branham, Max King, and Robert Rosenthal.

Thanks to my friends, who inspired me and amused me, especially Susan Abrams, Lisa Maslankowski (for the medical advice), Bill Syken, Craig and Elizabeth LaBan, and Scott Andron. Thanks to my sister Molly, my brothers Jake and Joe, and my grandmother Faye Frumin, who always believed in me, and to my mother, Frances Frumin Weiner, who still can’t believe it. Thanks to Caren Morofsky, for being a very good sport.

Thanks to my muse, Wendell, King of All Dogs.

And finally, thanks to Adam Bonin, first reader and traveling companion, who made the journey worthwhile.