Georgia and Doris headed downstairs. Hannah stood in the doorway holding Boop’s bouquet, the combination of flowers her grandmother had selected to evoke her favorite time of day. The small bundle was wrapped with silk ribbon the color of sherbet, replete with purple, red, and orange blooms, filled in with berries and vines.
Boop possessed a spirit more beautiful than all the sunsets and bouquets mixed together. Her heart as brave as any warrior’s. What lessons she’d taught Hannah—taught everyone—about family, about love, about being true to oneself while honoring those around you. There was more than a house in the legacy she’d leave behind. Hannah gulped away rising emotion and tipped the flowers toward her grandmother.
Boop accepted the bouquet and closed her eyes as she lowered her nose to the blooms. Hannah imagined her grandmother savoring not only the fragrance in that moment, but the promise of all the splendid moments to come.
Boop lifted her head and opened her eyes.
“How do you feel?” Hannah asked.
“I feel like a very lucky girl.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE
The Last Bathing Beauty is a work of fiction, but it wouldn’t have come to fruition without some very real people, especially Charlene Klein. I met Charlene in South Haven in 2016, when I’d already written nuggets of a novel about the beauty queen granddaughter of a Jewish resort owner in 1950s South Haven, and her present-day counterpart. This is where it gets weird and wonderful. Charlene grew up in South Haven during that era and was the granddaughter of Eva and David Mendelson, owners of Mendelson’s Atlantic Hotel, a Jewish lakefront resort.
Charlene’s generous spirit, friendship, and stories about her teenage years, as well as her present-day life, helped me craft The Last Bathing Beauty with deep insight and a profound sense of place. Every time I visited South Haven or talked to Charlene, I learned things I felt I already knew. I was, and remain, connected to this Midwestern lakeside community and its history. This is a bit odd considering 1) I am a native Philadelphian, and 2) I discovered South Haven “by accident” after falling into an online research hole.
I no longer believe in accidents.
I do believe in serendipity.
My literary agent, Danielle Egan-Miller, agrees with this sentiment. She championed this story through all its iterations, and trust me, there have been many. Ellie Roth’s attention to detail provided thoughtful questions and necessary corrections. Jodi Warshaw, my Lake Union editor, saw in The Last Bathing Beauty pages what we saw—a story about friendship, love, and second chances in a unique setting—and I’m grateful for a trusting and intuitive advocate. Tiffany Yates Martin, my developmental editor, supported and guided me (even on weekends) as I polished this novel to a shine. Danielle Marshall, Lake Union’s editorial director, expressed confidence in me and in this story when I needed it most.
Novel writing is both solitary and collaborative. Dawn Ius and Pamela Toler were the best critique partners a writer could ask for, reading many pages at a time, or sometimes one or two, and always telling me what I needed to hear. But it doesn’t stop there. Friends and colleagues always stepped up with support, brainstorming, answers, opinions, or company if I asked. Thanks to Kelly Levinson, Sheila Athens, Larry Blumenthal, Elaine Bookbinder and Jim Smith, Alice Davis, Kimberly Brock, Fern and Manny Katz, Lynda Cohen Loigman, Jamie Ford, Ann Garvin, Kelly Harms, Melanie Hooyenga, Susan Meissner, Katie Moretti, Jennie Nash, Kate Pickford, Renée Rosen, Renee San Giacomo, and Judith and Lou Soslowsky. A group hug for Carole Farley, Heidi Gold, Sheryl Love, and Rachel Resnick, for showing me (again and again) the restorative power of old friends. And I mean old in the very best way.
Online reader and writer groups are at least partially responsible for preserving my (relative) sanity through the writing and publishing process. Cheers to Bloom, Bloom Bloggers, Readers Coffeehouse, A Novel Bee, Women’s Fiction Writers blog readers, Book Pregnant, WFWA, Lake Union Book Club, and all the talented #bookstagrammers. Last but never least, I wouldn’t want to do any of this without my trailblazing and loyal Tall Poppy Writers.
This was the first book I’ve written since moving back to Philadelphia and it often kept me sequestered. My parents, Sarah and Mike Nathan, were enthusiastic and understanding even when I cut our visits short to continue writing. Hugs to my children (the best adults I know)—Zachary, Chloe, and Taylor—for always asking about the book (and listening when I answered), for being proud, and for tolerating my Bitmoji habit. I love you all.
For historical insight and accuracy, I relied heavily on local newspapers, clothing catalogs, magazine covers, interviews, advertisements, menus, and cookbooks. I used great care to remain true to 1951 South Haven when, for the sake of the story and character development, I took creative license with details, as novelists are prone to do.
I built the fictional Stern’s Summer Resort on a foundation of facts from the time, along with my vision for the story, and two overnight visits to the Victoria Resort (formerly Glassman’s Resort, popular in South Haven’s heyday). Jan Leksich, the owner at the time of my first visit, was kind enough to allow me to stay in a cabin typically reserved for her family, and to give me a tour of the property, while sharing its facts and folklore.
Stern’s Summer Resort’s fictional location on North Beach is the approximate site of the original Mendelson’s Atlantic Hotel, to where Charlene would walk from her childhood home, just like Betty. Unlike Betty, Charlene lived not only with her grandparents, but also with a twin sister, an older sister, and her parents, who owned a local restaurant. While Mendelson’s no longer exists, Charlene spends every summer in the house where she grew up. I’m fortunate to have visited her there, spent time on her porch, and soaked in the beach, lake, and lighthouse views. It’s my privilege to call Charlene a friend.
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