I wish I liked this book better, but not as much as I wish this book was worth liking. I was thrilled to win a copy kindly gifted from Random House via the Goodreads “First Reads” program.
My rant about all the things in here that drove me batty:
SPOILERS...
The gravest sin of this entire book was how contrived it was. There was very little hiding behind the dramatic hype throughout the book. Lainey thinks her husband Tom is cheating on her and it throws her world into a tailspin. Mostly because she storms out in rage, or hangs up on him, or the cell service is conveniently bad, Lainey never lets Tom explain what is actually going on until, of course, the end of the book when the resolve seriously boils down to this:
Tom: Oh, I didn't mention that I'm not cheating on you? Are you sure? OHHHH! No wonder you've been so pissed.
Lainey: Oh, you're not a repeat adulterer? How wonderful that I jumped to the wrong conclusion.
Tom: Er, what I mean to say, is that I was serially cheating many, many years ago. But right now I'm not. I only found out about having another daughter recently myself.
Lainey: It's all my fault for not letting you finish the conversation that you tried to have with me umpteen times. I will now absorb the blame for not being more supportive of all the time you're spending with your ex-mistress and other daughter, whom I'm still a little worried you like better than us.
Tom: My daughter has Down's Syndrome and needs me. Didn't I tell you that, too? I really could have sworn I had already told you.
Seriously Tom? You don't remember that you never told your wife any of that when you were being so mysterious about your daughter? The whole misunderstanding (which both parties accept as just a misunderstanding; not sure I'd feel that way about surprise additional offspring from my husband) is quite cleared up in a four-minute conversation that could have happened 400+ pages earlier and spared us the grief.
That is what I mean by contrived.
And then, because all is well (now that the daughter has Down's and the ex-mistress is actually bald, bloated, diseased, and not a threat to Lainey), Lainey invites them to move in with her own family. Lainey and the hard-on-the-outside-squishy-on-the-inside ex-mistress become best friends. And best of all, Lainey and her children all get along brilliantly after that, rebellious teenage hormones dissipate, and Max gets over all his daddy issues now that his dad isn't breaking up another family. And they all love their new step-sister.
The End.
Again, not making this up.
Let's briefly discuss the other major plot line: searching for buried family secrets. Lainey was so dramatic! Indulge me, please, in yet another mocking dialogue excerpt from the book.
Village local: Yes, I know your family secret. But it is too terrible to put into words.
Lainey: But I need to know!
Village local: Come back in a few days, after you've had sufficient time to draw your own worst possible conclusions and brood about them. Then I will have the strength to tell you.
Lainey: Gasp! I must be the product of incest! My grandfather is also my father!
Marco (handsome and charming married landlord-turned-personal-tour-guide): Now, now, let's not draw conclusions, even though that's what we're clearly supposed to do for the next couple of chapters. That might not be what happened, although that is certainly what Village Local has strongly led us to believe.
Really? That's where you landed? Because that is not, for one instant, where my thoughts went for "most plausible outcome."
Actually, I correctly guessed it all right away, which made it so much more obnoxious to observe Lainey's dramatic ideas about who Julia was and what horrible secret her mother hid.
Don't bother to keep reading if you don't want to hear more frustration, but now that I've started, I'm carrying on.
The writing wasn't technically bad, but something about it was bad. I was so conscious the entire time that I was reading a story that seemed like it was very intentionally meant to sound like stories are meant to sound. Does that make sense?
And I don't give a crap about writing rules—until I'm painfully aware that they're being broken and it isn't working. It was all telling and no showing.
The novel opened up with chapters of backstory, like informational diarrhea, and I didn't care enough about Lainey to know that much about her. From cradle to present, I pretty much had her whole life story at my hands and the barrage of painfully articulated details was enough that I closed the book and put it away for about a month before I forced myself to finish, mostly out of obligation for the free book.
Later in the story, she confronts her husband's past and embarks on a search to uncover her dead mother's family secrets—which results in us learning more backstory. Much of the time, I felt like I wasn't reading a novel so much as a fictitious personal history. I could have been sitting at her funeral listening to Lainey's life sketch. That's not a good thing.
Eventually, the story picked up steam and piqued my interest—in much the same way a looming car accident would hold my attention. Like, I'm curious to see just how badly this story implodes on itself.
The characters were so unlikeable at best. Some were loathsome. Like everyone else, I like my characters to be human, but every single character was riddled with flaws to the point that they were not only unredeemable, they weren't even realistic anymore.
The main character, Lainey, was the most wholesome and brave one in the lot and even she, we soon discover, got married after becoming pregnant by her married, adulterous boyfriend, stealing him away from his child and now ex-wife (whom he was concurrently cheating on with a third mistress, to be introduced later in the book just to give things a good shake-up). Now, I'm not so stuffy that I can't recognize that people make mistakes and grow and improve, which is the ultimate point of most stories, so I was eager to overlook my protagonist's rocky past and love her anyway, but I just never got a good reason to.
Oh Lainey, Lainey, Lainey. On vacation, she went off on daily excursions with another married man, while letting her young kids knowingly party it up or leaving the local families to entertain them. Tierney was clearly a train wreck, but Lainey shrugged it off with every excuse from “typical teenager” and “she just won't tell me” to “I'm dealing with so much myself that I don't have the emotional stamina to tend to my daughter.” She concludes everything must be fine because at least her daughter isn't in debt or pregnant, right? A supposedly vigilant mother like Lainey would have never been so calm about letting a destructive friend like Skye be an ever-present and welcome fixture in her daughter's life, suspecting her 16-year-old is having an affair with a married man, letting her run off to London without even getting parental or friend contact information, or ignoring Tierney's underage drinking so long as it's limited to “reasonable” amounts.
And the problem was that there wasn't one developed character that wasn't marred by a series of grave transgressions, which I would have moved past if any of them had become very heartwarming.
I was a bit surprised to realize I liked fowl-mouthed, irresponsible, rebellious, juvenile party-boy Max the best of all of them, and I think it's because we spent the least amount of time in his head. (And actually he alone had sympathetic, compelling reasons for his flaws and, when it counted, was loyal and staunchly protective of his siblings.)
Tierney was disturbing and delving into her grossly exaggerated teenage deviations did nothing to further the main plot lines, other than just adding flavorless hot water to the stew. Skye was horrid—probably my least favorite character, which is saying something with so many winners to choose from. And what the eff was up with the obsession with 50 Shades of Grey? That did nothing for this book. I am not naïve enough to think that there aren't teenagers like Tierney and Skye romping around in the world, inadvertently in search of sexual predators, and I know that's not a light thing; but I sure hope it's not the norm. It wasn't super realistic to me.
Glued to Lainey's hip and coming over every single day to get tipsy with her, is Lainey's best friend from childhood, Stacy. They spend their days concocting worst-case scenarios about Lainey's troubles and ignoring (or fighting with) the kids. How, you ponder, does Stacy manage this? Well, she hasn't had a job or income source in two years and apparently isn't desperate enough to seek employment outside of her elite aspirations, so not only can she not afford her own wine and needs her daily trip to Lainey's, but she has all the time in the world.
I could go on indefinitely. My list of grievances is about as long as the book was.
But I will end with this trivial complaint: What is up with the book cover?! WHO is the woman on the front? It should be Lainey, but as it was reiterated so many times that Lainey is a black-haired beauty, it doesn't make sense that the designers would ignore something so obvious about the protagonist and stick a blonde there instead.
Rating two stars is a veeeery generous gift here, but after waffling about the rating, I gave in because I did finally muster some curiosity for the story. (Though I will say, had my house burned down with my book in it, even when I was a mere forty or fifty pages from the end, I don't think I would have exerted myself to find another copy to find out how it ended. But since I had it, I was definitely invested enough to finish in a timely manner.)
I also appreciated how the story and characters ended, even though it was a little far-fetched and tidy. I liked that Tom stayed faithful to his wife and was just trying to be a good guy and do right by everyone for once. I liked that Tom and Lainey made up and decided to make their marriage work, even in the face of strain and scandal. I liked that Tom reached out to and responded to his children throughout the uncertainty, despite being a dismal failure at it. I liked that the family instantly took to Julia. I liked that Lainey loved being a wife and mother and found ultimate fulfillment in that, rather than needing to pretend to independent career aspirations that she didn't have in order to satisfy societal pressures. I liked that Lainey tenderly cared for her beloved father with Alzheimer's.
FYI: In case this bothers you, there is a substantial amount of language throughout and disturbing, predatory-type sexual content.