In some ways, I envy Vance and Lindy Graegan. They are moving across the country, from Washington, D.C., to Redwood City, California – another daydream of mine. But that’s where the envy ends. When they arrive, the moving company won’t unload their possessions without extra money because the front door of their condo is a particular distance from the curb. Many times, Lindy urges her husband just to let them have everything. Give up. Start over.
Yeah! I can agree with that.
However, as typically happens in suspense novels, more is yet to happen. Apparently, Vance has a secret from his wife, the evidence of which is buried in their moving van. Unfortunately for Vance, the movers have found his secret and are threatening to tell his wife or go to the press unless he pays up. Vance has just retired from a police detective position, and a former partner – female – seems to have some knowledge of his secret as well as baggage of her own.
The writer definitely made her point, with me at least. I came away from this novel with both a renewed vigor for the relationships in my life and a renewed disinterest in my possessions. The little boy, Conner, becomes quite resourceful in his play without a smattering of toys, television, or video games. And, as the adults focus on the severe trial at hand, their possessions fade into their peripheral vision allowing their need for faith to become clear.
I can’t recommend the Graegan method of de-cluttering, but I can and do recommend this book.