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320 pages, Hardcover
First published August 2, 2016
The key to unhappiness—always wantin’ to be somewhere else instead of where you are.
"[Her parents] loved each other enough at one point to marry and make a life—her own life—so she couldn’t only be the product of loss and collapse. The resolution would be a happy, comfortable married life for herself, with years of love to counteract all the fighting."
Religion seemed to be a thing he kept in a special compartment in his brain for the sake of sometimes acting serious, because that was the way he thought Men should be. In this compartment he also kept his opinions on the way Women should be. There was a time for hunting and a time for Jesus, but as far as Vivienne could tell, Jesus was never available during hunting hours, or work hours, and certainly not during the hours he spent receiving blow jobs from her. In the three months, they'd been dating Vivienne had picked up that he had low expectations and little respect for the women he’d had sex with (and from what Vivienne had heard, there’d been many), but of women he took seriously, he expected angelic behavior and the same compartmentalized devotion to Jesus.
It was tough living without Texas, even in a place as great as Paris. Still, he was reluctant. It was Texas, after all, and again. He felt very paradoxical and grumpy when he thought about it, remembering vividly all the things he couldn’t stand about it (he ran through his top three: guns, humidity, mosquitos) and how puffy and grand he’d felt in leaving it, and yet—and yet what? Well, he just missed it.
Nothing in her experience had prepared her for being kissed by a man with whom she couldn’t see her life spelled out, should she choose to spend her life with him. His kiss opened a door in her mind, as most kisses did, except she couldn’t see past the door into the next month and year and decade. She couldn’t even see the next day—not even, she realized, the next hour.
We’re all trying to be braver and more compassionate people than we are, and when this is too much to ask of ourselves, at least we’re trying. I think it means something to try.
The changes that had brought her back here instead felt as subtle as the changes in the big trees arching against the pink sky. They looked no different to her eye, but the time had breathed through them as well.
Preston imagined Vivienne, a lonely little girl, constructing in her imagination ways that she might save herself from the underworld.