Started well, a charming story about random expats who end up in a small central Mexican town. But the obsession of the writer with the (apparently absolute) need for these interesting, talented women to end up in paired, hetero relationships torpedoed the book for me. Ain’t it about time to be Okay with oneself? How many times in a life does a woman need to learn that No relationship is better than a bad one? There is so much more to life than that, or moping.
Especially Sue, the central protagonista, an artist, generous and insightful, who clearly enjoys and appreciates her new home in Mexico - the changing seasons, the colors, the food, the light, the people. She lands there after her miserable marriage in the US ends. The ex was, we learn, unmotivated, bitchy, uninteresting and hey, she walks in on him with another (very young) woman. Somewhere I learned that the best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour. Perhaps i haven’t watched enough Disney, but IMHO, when marriages fail for such a grand antipasto spread of reasons, it’s time to move on. Sue's motivation for coming to Mexico is obvious. And she finds a home full of beauty and friendship. But, six years later, after essentially no contact with the ex, he arrives unannounced, and she just up and follows him...to Utah. WTF?
As the trajectory of this tale went on, i found myself angrier and angrier that there seemed no judgment behind the ultimate choices, and self-denial (Really! They all loved it there!) besides seeking … what? ...to be goofily partnered? Bleh.