In the quiet moments, I think of you. On a yoga mat, looking at the sky. In a park with blossoms, and a saxophone playing. We were the same age, for 45 weeks of the year. Except for the seven when you were older, I could never catch up, you said. Until I did.
A curious blend of fantasy and realism, Yvonne Cassidy’s fourth novel is about a haunting. It’s about the chasm between mothers and teenage daughters. It’s about the crippling effects of alcoholism on a family. It’s about truth and lies, loyalty between siblings, the implosion of divorce, the shock of bereavement. Whatever the reader decides it’s about, it’s a page-turner.