Promises

( 7 )

Overview

With her three children, beautiful home, and loving husband, Margaret Crane is a woman others would envy.  Adam's job has cushioned them nicely over the years, and it should be a time of contentment, rewards, of new challenges together.  But lately Adam has been working too late, too hard, at the office. Margaret is sure it's just the rumored takeover of his company—until she meets Randi, The Other Woman...

Meanwhile, Nina, the orphaned cousin the Cranes ...

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Overview

With her three children, beautiful home, and loving husband, Margaret Crane is a woman others would envy.  Adam's job has cushioned them nicely over the years, and it should be a time of contentment, rewards, of new challenges together.  But lately Adam has been working too late, too hard, at the office. Margaret is sure it's just the rumored takeover of his company—until she meets Randi, The Other Woman...

Meanwhile, Nina, the orphaned cousin the Cranes raised as their own daughter, is reveling in New York.  She thinks she's found Mr. Right in Keith, a brilliant investment banker.  But Keith has a secret he has not shared with Nina.  All he asks for is time...and patience.  And as Nina clings to stolen weekends with Keith, Margaret plays dutiful wife, trying to ignore warning signs of her own failing marriage.  A rift has developed between the two women who have loved each other as mother, daughter, friends.  Keith is not welcome in Margaret's home.  And Nina herself is the other woman...

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"Belva Plain is in a class by herself."
The New York Times

"An emotionally compelling novel."
Booklist

"A superb storyteller...a talent worth remembering...Mrs. Plain's novels are good stories well told."
Newark Star-Ledger

"A brilliant portrayal...the author takes us once again into the soul of the American family." —Leader (Lovington, New Mexico.)

"Belva Plain writes with authority and integrity."
San Francisco Chronicle

"A consummate storyteller whose skills at bringing likable characters, turbulent events and moving emotional drama together in a fabulous story has never been better."
Rave Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Family values and feminism make an uneasy marriage in this undisguised morality play about adultery. Fifteen years ago, Margaret Crane gave up the dream of medical school to devote herself to her husband, Adam, an engineer. Beautiful, loyal, savvy in bed, cheerful in pregnancy and tirelessly sensitive in motherhood, Margaret now unknowingly loses her husband to the crude and grasping Randi Bunting, who enjoyed an intense affair with Adam back in college and has appeared in their small Midwestern town. Meanwhile, Margaret's beloved cousin Nina falls for another married man. Margaret's moralizing provokes a schism between the two women. If Plain (The Carousel) had shaped the cousins' conflict as a loving one between sense and sensibility, with each sister learning from the other, this novel might have come to life. But only Nina has to grow into the realization that every act of adultery has a victim, the betrayed spouse. Margaret remains unchanged by the tumultuous events in the story, including a death; she comes off not as a human being but as a collection of unshakable beliefs. Still, Plain conveys well the hurt and bewilderment of the three Crane children. And she understands, and makes palpable, those times when the illusion of control collapses. Literary Guild and Doubleday Book Club main selections. (July)
Library Journal
Plain's (The Carousel, Delacorte, 1995) latest tale of middle-class family upheaval tells of a quintessentially happy suburban clan that is shattered when the father embarks on an extramarital affair.
Melanie Duncan
For 19 years, Margaret Crane lived the perfect life: faithful wife, loving mother, respected teacher. Then her husband, Adam, shatters their marriage when he leaves her for another woman. At the same time, Margaret copes with the knowledge that her niece Nina is one of these "other" women and is involved in an affair with a married man in New York. As she struggles to reweave the torn threads of her life as well as her children's lives through therapy and divorce proceedings, another tragedy damages the fragile web she has constructed. Margaret must find the strength within herself to mend her broken family and face the future. In the destruction of a family as a result of an extramarital affair, Plain creates an emotionally compelling novel sure to appear on the best-seller lists, as did her previous novels, Whispers (1993) and The Carousel , which dealt with similar themes. Plain's newest book is a must purchase for all public libraries.
Kirkus Reviews
What could be more venerable, time-encrusted, and useful to a popular novelist like Plain (The Carousel, 1995, etc.) than a drama about a destructive diddling with the Seventh Commandment? Here we have the Noble Wife, mother of three Marvelous Children, and the Errant Husband, bent on adultery, heeding a call to the wild side.

If her guardian angel had been on the job in 1973 when Margaret was being fitted for her wedding gown, wondering why fiancé Adam had been so distant lately ("If Adam ever leaves me. . . I shall die"), she would have encouraged Margaret to continue her medical studies, cancel the dress, and send Adam packing. But marriage ensued, and now, in 1988, the Adam Cranes have three nice kids. Margaret teaches school. And Adam (in computers) is about to be whistled to heel by Randi, the siren he was having an affair with while Margaret was preparing for their wedding. Randi, long absent, has moved into town. In spite of her rejection of him years before (for a live-in with more money), Adam is once again drawn to Randi and her "magic flesh." When he touches her "a thrill of peril shook through him. . . He needed this woman." The truth dawns slowly on Margaret and her brood. Standing by, meanwhile, are kind friends and one aging suitor, but in the wake of the marriage's collapse she is faced with having to sell the family house and even give up the family dog. Love and doubt turn to righteous rage, and the divorce proceedings are begun, via a likable (unmarried) lawyer. Margaret, having regrouped, is recouping. But what of Adam? Will he get his? You bet.

The message couldn't be Plain-er—woe to promise-breakers—and the characters couldn't be broader. Color Margaret virtuous gold, Randi (a moniker on target) a flaming red, and Adam, lizard green. A heavy clunker that Plain manages to move along. Not her best.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780440216872
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 4/28/1997
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 464
  • Sales rank: 794,787
  • Product dimensions: 4.17 (w) x 6.90 (h) x 1.17 (d)

Meet the Author

Belva  Plain

Belva Plain captured readers' hearts with her first novel, Evergreen, which Delacorte published more than 30 years ago. It topped the New York Times best-seller list for 41 weeks and aired as an NBC-TV miniseries. In total, more than 20 of her books have been New York Times best sellers.

Before becoming a novelist,  Belva Plain wrote short stories for many major magazines, but taking care of a husband and three children did not give her the time to concentrate on the novel she had always wanted to write. When she looked back and said she didn't have the time, she felt as though she had been making excuses. In retrospect, she said, "I didn't make the time." But, she reminded us, during the era that she was raising her family, women were supposed to concentrate only on their children. Today 30 million copies of her books are in print.

A Barnard College graduate who majored in history,  Belva Plain enjoyed a wonderful marriage of more than 40 years to Irving Plain, an ophthalmologist. Widowed for more than 25 years, Ms. Plain continued to reside in New Jersey, where she and her husband had raised their family and which was still home to her nearby children and grandchildren until her death in October 2010.

Biography

Belva Plain captured readers' hearts with her first novel, Evergreen (1978), published when the author was a grandmother. It topped The New York Times bestseller list for 41 weeks and aired as an NBC-TV miniseries in 1985. In all, twenty of her novels appeared on The New York Times best-seller list.

Before she became a novelist, Belva Plain wrote short stories for many major magazines (she sold her first story to Cosmopolitan), but taking care of a husband and three children did not give her the time to concentrate on the novel she always wanted to write. In retrospect, she said, "I didn't make the time." Now, with well over 25 million copies of her books in print, translated into 22 languages, her fans can be grateful she demonstrated a better-late-than-never attitude.

A Barnard College graduate who majored in history, Belva Plain enjoyed a wonderful marriage of more than 40 years to Irving Plain, an ophthalmologist, who died in 1982. She lived most of her life in New Jersey where she and her husband raised their family. Belva Plain died at her home in October 2010. She was 95.

Author biography courtesy of Random House, Inc.

Good To Know

Plain's first short story was published in Cosmopolitan magazine when she was twenty-five; her first novel was published nearly forty years later.

When she wasn't writing, Plain enjoyed opera, ballet, nature, history, dogs, and reading.

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    1. Date of Birth:
      October 9, 1915
    2. Place of Birth:
      New York, New York
    1. Date of Death:
      October 12, 2010
    2. Place of Death:
      Short Hills, New Jersey
    1. Education:
      B.A., Barnard College

Read an Excerpt

"Turn," said Isabella, with pins between her lips.

In the pier glass, looking down, Margaret could watch careful fingers working over a cascade of white silk.  Looking up, she saw her own disheveled, curly red head and her shoulders rising in unfamiliar nakedness over an intricately tucked and pleated frill.

Margaret's mother sighed.  "I don't know how you do it, Isabella."

"Sewing is recreation for me, Jean.  And to make a wedding dress for my own daughter-in-law, whom I knew before she was born—how many people can have a pleasure like that?"

Affection shone from Isabella's eyes.  They were opalescent and wide set, like her son's.  Like Adam she was erect and dignified.  But where she was talkative, he was silent.  His intelligent face with its even, symmetrical features was somber, a somber, romantic face.  Mysterious.  Heroic.  Margaret had fallen in love with it when she was fifteen years old.

If Adam ever leaves me, she thought suddenly, I shall die.

He had last telephoned on Monday, just after she had come home for spring break.  Before that he had not called since the previous Thursday.  But they had always talked to each other every evening after eight.  They would talk just under three minutes, yet it seemed, although two states lay between his university and her college, as if he had his arms around her.

When had it begun to change?  Or had it really changed?  After all, he was on the final stretch of the hard road toward his degree.  So perhaps she was only imagining things.  A word unspoken, a glance evaded, a telephone call missed—if you were looking for signs, you could find them, couldn't you?  You could always force something out of nothing, merely because you were too sensitive.  Yes, that was it.  She was too sensitive.

And she looked around at the familiar room as if its very familiarity might reassure her.  An extraordinary warmth was here.  It came from the house itself, this solid Victorian, built by her great-grandfather and meant to last, complete with front porch and wooden gingerbread, on this broad midwestern street.  It came from the two women, both plain, kind, and unexceptional, who had known widowhood since the Korean War, had each worked and reared a child alone.  It came from the cheerful shrills of children playing in the yard below.

From where she was standing, Margaret could see the group playing some ancient circle-game, with Nina in the center, taking charge.  At six she was the neighborhood leader.  Such a delightful, demanding person she was, Jean's little orphaned niece!

Adam used to joke: "After we're married, people who don't know us well will think that she's really ours, that we'd had her hidden away."

"Are they all right down there?" Jean asked.  "I always worry when she's out of my sight."

"You worry too much, Mom.  Nina's going to make her way in the world.  With that pert little face and all that energy, she's going to be a charmer and a winner.  Anyway, you know very well that when she's in my charge, I keep her safe." And Margaret had to laugh.  "I don't let her get away with too much, you can be sure."

"You'll be a fine mother," Isabella said as she got up from her knees.

"'Fine mother'!" Jean laughed.  "Oh, yes, of course, but she's got quite a few things to do first.  Graduate from college in May, then Adam will graduate, and then the wedding June twentieth—you know, I've forgotten to give the date to the photographer!  Good Lord, I'll go phone right now!"

"Wait," said Margaret.  "I—we're not exactly sure about the date."

Two startled, high-pitched voices chimed.  "What do you mean?"

Struggling out of the confining silk, Margaret felt suddenly exposed and very vulnerable.

"We thought—Adam said—he thought maybe we have too many things all crowded together.  All these dates.  Maybe he should have a little time to buy stuff for himself—"

Isabella interrupted.  "Buy stuff!  All he needs to get ready is a new suit. And knowing how little he cares about clothes, I'll have to argue him into buying that."

As thoughts that had been forced down now rose to the surface, all the good warmth ebbed from the room.

"Well, it's not only that.  Maybe, when you think about it, maybe he really should have some more time, a couple of weeks to get used to the new job.  A little time."

"And you had to wait until April to think about all that?" Jean said, with some exasperation.

The two older women were properly alarmed.  Without looking Margaret knew they were questioning, glancing toward each other.  How they wanted this marriage! It was safe.  Each was to get a dependable in-law.  There were no dangerous unknown quantities.  She understood.

"Why, he never said anything like that to me!" exclaimed Isabella.

"Well, we weren't sure.  It just crossed our minds.  Just a thought.  Anyway, we'll have to decide this week one way or the other."  They were examining her. It felt as though cold air were blowing on her body.  She slid into her jeans and buttoned her shirt, saying lightly, hurriedly, "Goodness, it's no problem! There's no big difference between June and July, is there?  But we'll let you know.  Definitely.  This week.  Positively."

Isabella, the more easily appeased, hung the wedding dress into a plastic bag. "Okay, as long as you do.  It won't take long for me to finish this skirt," she said cheerfully.  "I'll have to come back once more to get the hem right, that's all."

As soon as they were alone, Jean asked the expected question.  "What is it, Margaret? Is there any trouble?"

"No.  What could there be?"

"Because if there is, I can't go off and leave you."

"Because of this little business of changing the date?"

"If that's all it is."

"That's all it is."

A pair of her familiar vertical worry lines appeared between Jean's eyes.  "I sometimes think I shouldn't be going, anyway.  India.  It's crazy."

"Since that's where the consular service is sending Henry, it's where you have to go.  What's the fuss?"

"Maybe it's crazy for me to think of marriage anyway, after all this time being a widow."

"All the more reason, Mom."

Jean looked weary.  It was as if her years of work in the library had worn her as it wore books, graying the once-bright surface.  She had had so little time to love her husband and be loved.  Day after day there had been only the routine of work and the care of a child.  Sadness and pity touched Margaret. Sometimes it almost seemed to her that their positions were reversed, that Jean was the daughter and she the mother.

"You know, Mom," she said firmly, "Henry's a good man, and you're very lucky. I'm glad for you.  Stop thinking about me.  I'll be fine.  I can manage things."

"Yes, yes, I know you're strong.  But I'm leaving you with the responsibility of Nina.  Starting a marriage with a six-year-old child to care for simply doesn't seem right."

"It's quite right.  I love her, and Adam doesn't mind having her at all."

"Yes, he's a prince, he really is.  But you're a princess, Margaret, beautiful and good.  Sometimes I think you're too good."

"Spoken like a mother!  Now, do you mind?  I've still got reading to do and finals coming up around the corner."

The late-afternoon sun was watery, and the old scraggly lilac was still winter bare.  In her chair at the window Margaret looked out at the well-known landscape, letting her troubled and restless mind wander.

She thought how amazing it was that she had been born into this house and that now, Mom having given it to her, she might possibly even die here.  It would not be in this room, though, but in the large one across the hall, the one with the massive dark bed and the wardrobe that, when she was a child, had seemed to loom above her like some dark giant.

She thought about her early dreams, the allure of medicine, her vision of herself in an operating theater, or maybe on a hospital ship bringing modern miracles to remote places.

"You can be anything you want to be," her advisors told her.  "You have an aptitude for many things."

But as she grew older during these last years at college, it became clear that choices would have to be made.  Adam was the elder, the one who was now prepared to move from the study hall into the real world.  And he had made a truly giant step.  A Phi Beta Kappa student in college and now certain to receive his graduate degree with honors, he had already been engaged to work right here in Elmsford at Advanced Data Systems, one of the busiest computer companies in the state.  It promised a glowing future.  Now, since the state university was more than two hundred miles away, medical school for Margaret became an impossibility.

There could be no question as to this decision—their decision.  They were everything to each other.  Everything.

A sudden and frantic agitation possessed her, so that she started up, dropping her book to the floor, and, seizing a sweater, ran clattering down the stairs.

In the yard Jean was pushing Nina on the swing.  "I thought you had to study," she said, surprised.

"I guess I've finished everything."

Jean smiled.  She had a way of making up for her anxieties with a smile.

"I always tell people you will read the phone book if there's nothing else around."

It was true.  Her imagination ran and ran everywhere, up mountains, back in time, down dead ends.  Just this morning there had been a funny name in the phone book.  Socrates O'Brien.  Had an O'Brien perhaps been a sailor with the Mediterranean fleet and met a Greek girl to bring back to America?  And was this Socrates their son?  Or perhaps these O'Briens were classics scholars and all their children had names like Psyche or Cassandra...

The swing creaked, back and forth, up and down.  It was hypnotic, the creak repeating itself at the same spot on the return.  Hypnotic.  Psyche, Cassandra, it creaked.

On the rise the child's legs were tilted higher than her head, and her laughter rang, while on the downswing she squealed in mock terror.  Brought from Chicago when Jean's sister died, she had become Jean and Margaret's child, more accurately, Margaret's—a rescued child, innocent product of careless sex and an anonymous father.

Nina, Nina, the ropes creaked.

"What's the matter, Margaret? You're a thousand miles away."

She came to, blinking.  "I need some air and exercise.  I've been in all day."

"It's tension.  I remember how I was before my wedding.  Go on, dear, take a walk."

The street was pleasant, the old, well-tended houses far apart.  Most people had some fruit trees and an ample vegetable garden out back.  Almost everybody had a dog who roamed the neighborhood as if it belonged to him.  Margaret and Jean had the vegetable garden, a quite splendid one that they worked themselves, but no dog.

I suppose we'll get one now that Nina's older.  It will be good for her, Margaret thought.

Her mind flitted, fighting reality.  She walked with her head down and her cold hands in the sweater's pockets.

Past the streets with the small-town, nineteenth-century air she came downhill into the city that Elmsford had become.  Here was the main library, Gothic and ivied, where Mom had been head librarian.  Here was the high school, where Margaret Keller, freshman, had so miraculously caught the attention of Adam Crane, senior.  True, they had been aware of each other's existence long before that, but "being aware" and "catching attention" were very different.  And holding their attention until it grew into a wedding dress and a pair of white satin slippers in a box on the top shelf of the closet was different still.

Nostalgia drew her onto the playing field.  Here from a small plateau one looked downward toward the river, edged on this side with a clutter of industry, and turbulent from the long spring rains.  Across it lay fields of corn and wheat, stretching for a hundred miles or more and sprinkled sparsely with small groves of trees, like islands on the calm sea.

Elmsford was a comfortable place.  It was good to have grown up here, and it would be good to rear one's children here.  Margaret was not a roamer, but a home person, as was Adam, although his mind roamed far.  And she stood now, cold in the rising wind, thinking...

Her high school advisor, Mrs. Hummel, had said last summer, "I hope you aren't rushing into anything, Margaret.  You've been preparing for medical school all along, and now you're giving it up! Do you have to?"

"I'll compromise.  I can teach biology and chemistry here if they'll have me."

"Is that really a compromise?"

"I think so.  I'll be teaching future doctors."

"Well," said Mrs. Hummel.  "Well."

No doubt she had thought that because she was Mom's friend, advice from her would be acceptable.  But she had been wrong.  Margaret's expression had told her so, and she had added quickly, "I only mean—you have so much promise, Margaret.  And you really are so young."

Young!  She felt old right now, very old.  And she longed for Adam with such a yearning, such an ache!  If she could only talk to him, not over the telephone, but while she could look into his quiet face!  Unlike her he was not given to explosions of emotion, but once he understood her bewilderment, he would reassure her.

Yet he had not reassured her...When, after he had rather vaguely suggested delay, she had asked him whether there was anything that he had not told her, he had merely, with equal vagueness, denied it.

"Nothing except that the exams are tough, and I'm tired out.  Anyway, what's a couple of weeks' postponement?"

She had felt an atmosphere, as when the lights go out during a storm and the familiar house, with its corners and closed doors, becomes abruptly dangerous and strange.
Was he tired of her?  Could he have found somebody else?  It happened. But to them? To Adam and Margaret?

She had to ask him.  And she began to walk, almost run, toward home and the telephone.  Her heart was sick in her chest, now hammering, now fluttering, as she sped back up the slope.  She had to stop for breath, to lean against an old stone wall.

But she knew she could not possibly ask him.  She would simply have to wait for whatever might come next.  It was a question of pride: a woman did not beg.  At least, this woman didn't.  No doubt hers was an old-fashioned concept, quite outmoded since men and women were now supposed to be the same.  Yet they were not the same.  Equal, yes, but not alike.

Now another thought came: He had remembered her birthday last week.  He had sent flowers, the Collected Poems of Auden and a box of chocolates.  She was always lamenting that she was a "chocoholic," and he was always telling her that with a figure like hers, she could afford to be.

You're looking for trouble, Margaret.  You're seeing things that are not there.

Almost at her feet a chipmunk, emerging from hibernation, went racing beside the wall.  And watching his erratic, zigzag flight, she wondered about the tiny brain, what its motivation to reverse direction might have been, and what the tiny eye might have noticed that she, standing right there, had not seen.

Zig.  Zag.  Things seen

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 2.5
( 7 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 7 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 5, 2005

    GOOD STORY-BUT COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER

    ENJOYED READING THIS BOOK, BUT IT DRAGGED ON A LITTLE TOO LONG. SEEMED SORT OF OLD-FASHIONED IN SOME OF THE WORDING.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 8, 2013

    Loved it!

    Really enjoyed this book!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 26, 2003

    Disappointing --

    Reading over the other reviews I see a big difference in opnions. I would say we KNOW this is a good author but this particular book seemed to drag and not give us a feeling of 'reality'. It was off to a good start and then seemed to get too wordy for lack of a better word. There is ONE simple thing that COULD have made this a great book -- other than the ending needed changing. This one thing is GOD. If the writer had mentioned church, God, faith or real morals -- it could have been a fine book. OK OK -- before you say it -- I know that Christian fiction used to be weak and 'hokey' but now days its not. Just check out any of Penelope J. Stokes or Francine Rivers books -- for a real treat of a read and you won't put it down at the end feeling 'sick' but rather very inspired. I cannot recommend this book 'Promises' but I would say -- read some of her other books and decide for yourself.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 10, 2002

    WHEN is it going to end?

    Nina the cousin is the biggest hypocrite. She gets mad at Adam, yet she basically did the same thing but because she stopped it makes it okay for her? Then the end......... it made me so mad.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2001

    Great story - kept me involved until the end.

    I enjoyed the twists & turns this story led you on until the very end. Great viewpoints from the married man (Adam) in an affair and the single girl (Nela) involved with another married man. Just discovered this author, and I will come back for more!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 31, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted November 26, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

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