Many thanks to NetGalley and Storm Publishing for an ARC of this novel.
As domestic fiction goes, Caitlin Weaver comes up with new spins on the kinds of stories that belong to everyone, especially women, and in this case single mothers. We begin with the beleaguered Lacey, who is suffering under a pile-up of everything that could go wrong for a thirty-something mother. She has a recently diagnosed 8 year old autistic son, her marriage to Judd is falling apart, she is penniless, she can’t figure out quality low-cost day care for a neurodivergent child. She has to give up her temporary shelter in her sister’s luxurious basement because her brother-in-law, the successful and wealthy exec, objects to Elliot’s disruptive impact on his perfect kids. Lacey has low self worth and much self blame. Out of desperation, she answers an ad calling for a single mother who wants ‘a community, not just roommates.’
This takes Lacey and Elliot to the ‘mommune,’ a rambling old house exuding warmth, female camaraderie, and mutual support. The owner and leader Regina, works at some undefined high tech job, mostly from home, and has twins Elliot’s age who are also on the spectrum. She is no-nonsense, unforthcoming, no hair out of place, but very reassuring. The other two mothers are the southern-born ‘honey-voiced’ Tavia, mother of baby Grace. She’s pert and pretty and an amazing cook. Then there is the artistic and outspoken Nanette, mother of five-year-old Linden, who left her marriage when she found out that she is lesbian.
Lacey, even to herself, is the most down-and-out of them. But Regina has her quiet, secretive, ways to help her get back on her feet just as she helped the other two when they first arrived in a similar state. If that involves faking credentials, work experience and even references, so what? Regina is confident that these women are so special they can do highly skilled jobs without any of that. And they do.
I do like the notion of female self-help groups, but much of what happens here is more on the level of magic, and not a little is of dubious morality. You can’t help but root for Lacey because she gave her all to marriage and motherhood until Judd ‘took a strange turn’ during the pandemic. Overnight, it seems, his entire personality changed and he became a rabid conspiracy theorist, anti-vaxer, and non-believer in the existence of autistic disorders much less their medical management. He scares his son and battles Lacey for sole custody so that she can’t medicate Elliot or take him for therapy. Discipline and religion will cure him.
The other main source of conflict, for which Regina recruits the other moms—I’d go so far as to say ‘manipulates’ them, even though they are promised a share in the winnings—has to do with what Regina is owed for her part in designing a groundbreaking piece of medical technology that is being exploited without her. There are some suspenseful moments, but hardly enough to put this into thriller category.
This is well-written single-mother centred story. It effectively captures common fears and anxieties having to do with single-mother families in which fathers are problematic, possibly dangerous, indifferent, or just plain absent. It definitely hammers home the difference that money makes. Although it leans toward making fathers the bad guys, the author provides a balancing glimpse of the thoughtful paternal responsibility in Lacey’s erstwhile boyfriend, Simon. He also falls into the too-good-to-be-real element. And that’s the problem I had with the whole book. Nice idea, promising premise, but, in the end, are these sisters really doing it for themselves? Or each other? They don’t even relate to each other more than sharing gourmet meals and an impressive amount of wine, dropping off kids at school, occasionally watching them for each other, and repeating supportive slogans. Everyone adjusts very quickly to everything. And where is the mommune in the end?