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The Glass Wives: A Novel

The Glass Wives: A Novel

4.2 8
by Amy Sue Nathan

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Evie and Nicole Glass share a last name. They also shared a husband.

When a tragic car accident ends the life of Richard Glass, it also upends the lives of Evie and Nicole, and their children. There's no love lost between the widow and the ex. In fact, Evie sees a silver lining in all this heartache—the chance to rid herself of


Evie and Nicole Glass share a last name. They also shared a husband.

When a tragic car accident ends the life of Richard Glass, it also upends the lives of Evie and Nicole, and their children. There's no love lost between the widow and the ex. In fact, Evie sees a silver lining in all this heartache—the chance to rid herself of Nicole once and for all. But Evie wasn't counting on her children's bond with their baby half-brother, and she wasn't counting on Nicole's desperate need to hang on to the threads of family, no matter how frayed. Strapped for cash, Evie cautiously agrees to share living expenses—and her home—with Nicole and the baby. But when Evie suspects that Nicole is determined to rearrange more than her kitchen, Evie must decide who she can trust. More than that, she must ask: what makes a family?
The Glass Wives is Amy Sue Nathan's heartfelt debut novel.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

“Nathan, host of the popular Women's Fiction Writer's blog, proves she knows her audience as her first novel hits all the right notes . . . Jodi Picoult fans will appreciate the surprising twists embedded in this thought-provoking narrative.” —Booklist

“Nathan's story is a poignant reflection of forgiveness and the complicated definition of family, strengthened by the intricate characters who are realistically balanced by their strengths and flaws . . . the plot and characters are heart-warming and the ending is inspiring and thought-provoking.” —RT Book Reviews

“The outcome of this unusual tale may come as a surprise, but Nathan's genuine, beautifully descriptive prose and her knack for creating a realistic portrait of an untraditional albeit loving family are refreshing.” —Shelf Awareness

“Reading The Glass Wives is like driving down a familiar street and having one of the houses you thought you knew open up on hinges to reveal its secrets. Nathan firmly but with good humor peels back the layers of suburban "normal" to reveal ethical ambiguity under a publicly rigid moral code and tenuous bonds between strangers under strict definitions of family. Evie Glass is the neighbor you want to know all about, and her story is told with charm and frankness to create an illustration of friendship and motherhood that feels very real.” —Lydia Netzer, author of Shine, Shine, Shine

“In The Glass Wives, Amy Sue Nathan examines what it means to build an unconventional family when the original families shatter suddenly and irreparably into pieces. Nathan's adept writing, wry humor, and authentic emotion carried me effortlessly from the beginning of this tender and hopeful debut novel to its satisfying end.” —Julie Kibler, author of Calling Me Home

“Rich in authenticity and detail, The Glass Wives addresses the softening that happens when we let go of the past, and the strength that ensues when we face the present on our own terms.” —Sandra Kring, author of The Book of Bright Ideas

“With extraordinary empathy, Amy Sue Nathan explores a blended group of friends and relatives we've not seen before. In Evie Glass, Nathan has given us a woman who learns that sometimes it's the imperfect relationships that can knit a troubled family back together. THE GLASS WIVES is brimming with heart and humor.” —Randy Susan Meyers, author of The Murderer's Daughters

Product Details

St. Martin's Press
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5.78(w) x 8.04(h) x 0.79(d)

Read an Excerpt

The Glass Wives

A Novel

By Amy Sue Nathan

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 2013 Amy Nathan Gropper
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-250-04016-9


Evie picked up a small, silver-framed photo and wiped away invisible dust. The groom towered over the groomsmen, his hair windblown without any wind, his smile slightly askew, big blue eyes staring and pensive. She knew it all too well, but the tug of familiarity was not déjà vu. Evie had been there before, decades earlier, with the same groom. But in this picture she was not the bride.

No one noticed Evie put back the photo or swish her hand on her pant leg, pretending now to wipe off the nonexistent dust. She walked through the crowd toward the floor-to-ceiling window. No one noticed her do that, either. Burgundy velour curtains tied back with thick, black tassels framed a six-foot, imitation pine tree. Hallmark ornaments masquerading as heirlooms dangled from its branches. Gold tinsel fringe and shiny red balls sparkled. It all seemed out of place, yet Evie knew it belonged. Probably more than she did.

Evie shook her head to clear an internal fog. It didn't work, but certain thoughts were clear no matter how few hours she'd slept, and no matter how her head throbbed a low, steady beat. Her ex-husband had died. Her children had no father. And if she were still married, she would be a widow.

Evie had accepted that she and Richard no longer shared the same happily-ever-after, but she'd assumed that they would move forward with grace and goodwill. So what if the grace was all her doing. She and Richard would share their children's bar and bat mitzvah, proms, graduations, weddings, and grandchildren. They'd have different partners, of course — different homes. They'd be positioned at opposite ends of the same long holiday tables, but they would continue to share Sam's and Sophie's milestones. After their divorce three years ago, it took Evie a full year to find her footing, twelve long months, to believe deep down she had a strong enough foundation to create a new, full life. And then, she created it.

Now the building blocks were scattered again.

She looked across the room at Nicole, who, within four years, had been Richard's mistress, his wife, and now his widow. It wasn't hard to imagine how she felt. The blood would have left her extremities. Her stomach would be in her throat. Her heart would ache for touch as her head searched for answers. No doubt she'd be nursing a cocktail of anger, sadness, and shock. Evie knew all this because she had mourned the same loss, but she had done it when Richard was alive.

Nicole sat barefoot on a low, wooden bench customary for sitting shiva. She slumped, arms at her sides, hair in disarray. Her daze extended beyond her personal space and touched everyone else in the room. Nicole was thirty, fifteen years younger than Evie, but the circles under Nicole's eyes stretched to midcheek. She wore no makeup and her skin was sallow without the benefit of foundation or blush. Every mirror in the house was covered with a white sheet. Shiva was for mourning, and prayer, and, yes, food, but vanity was forbidden. And while Nicole wasn't Jewish, she was respecting Jewish customs in the home she'd shared with Richard. Evie hated to admit it, but she admired the effort, despite the plastic cranberry-and-popcorn garland hanging above a stack of yarmulkes.

Evie sat on the couch, a black leather casualty of divorce, and stroked the worn cushion with her thumb until it burned. During the young married years, the couch was the only furniture in Evie and Richard's living room. During the young parenting years, she and Richard sat on the couch, legs intertwined, each holding one of their twins. During the recent turbulent years, Richard sat at one end of the couch, Evie at the other, each leaning toward the farthest wall, two arms' lengths and vacant miles between them. Why had she let Richard take the couch? The couch was a timeline, a testament, a tribute.

Or maybe it was just a couch.

Evie's stomach growled. The shiva food remained untouched. Soon the pickles would lose their sheen, slices of lox would curl at the edges, and the tuna salad would sour. So people hovered, waiting for some official signal that it was Time To Eat. Only then would they soothe their psyches with the time-honored Jewish death fare.

"Everyone, please have something to eat," Nicole said through a sniffle, and the crowd began grazing. She lifted six-month-old Luca from his bouncy seat and drew him to her chest. Nicole's words and motions were fluid, as if rehearsed.

Sam and Sophie stood shoulder to shoulder, or shoulder to arm. At ten, Sophie was still taller than her twin brother, although Evie suspected that that wouldn't last the year, since every week Sam's pants and sleeves were getting shorter. She scooted to the middle of the cushion and the kids sat on either side, their thighs touching hers. The kids hated getting dressed up, yet here they were, in starched and pressed clothes usually reserved for Yom Kippur. Tomorrow Evie would let them wear sweats. After all, when the rabbi explained the ancient custom of kriah, tearing of clothing — or a black satin ribbon — and wearing it as a symbol of grief for an immediate family member, he never said they couldn't wear it on a hoodie. Evie had clenched her jaw and swallowed baseball-size sobs when she'd first heard the satin ribbon rip. Then she held her breath as the pins poked through her babies-who-were-no-longer-babies' shirts, making holes that would never truly be mended. Richard had once been Evie's immediate family as well, but the space over her heart remained empty.

As people passed on their way to the buffet, some glanced at Evie. Most never looked at or spoke to Sam or Sophie, but some closed their eyes and nodded as if it made her fatherless children invisible.

Was that the point?

A brave few extended their hands and said or mouthed, "I'm sorry." Others patted one twin's head or the other's. Richard's Uncle Abe pulled a quarter out from behind Sam's ear, and then Sophie's. They were too old to be dazzled, but they smiled and so did Evie.

Sidestepping the hungry mob, Nicole inched her way to Evie. With Luca in one arm, Nicole rustled Sam's already-messy blond hair, touched Sophie's chin with her fingers, held the baby's back, and bounced. Nicole stood six inches from Evie's knees, abrasive electricity between them.

"Can we go watch TV?" Sam asked. He cocked his head to the side and smiled, wrevealing his overbite, inherited from Richard.

"Please?" Sophie said, wringing her hands as if she wanted to download more songs onto her iPod or have extra minutes on the computer.

"Are you sure?" Evie said. Her instinct was to tighten her grip on their arms.

"Yes," the twins said, nodding.

"Oh, okay, go!" Evie said. She squeaked in an effort to match their enthusiasm but her voice quavered.

Sam and Sophie stomped down the stairs to the rec room Richard had built for his second family, unlike Evie's unfinished laundry-room closet and the half-built shed in her backyard. She felt light without them touching her. It was a welcome reprieve, but laced with yearning.

Evie looked up at Nicole and patted the warm, indented cushion. "Do you want to sit?"

Nicole shook her head. "I just wanted to say ... I'm glad you and the kids are here. I wish it were different, but we should be together at a time like this."

Just two more days of shiva and Evie's time like this was over. She ached to escape the sights, sounds, and smells of death by rinsing them away with lavender bath soap in her oversize tub, holding her breath, dipping below the surface, bubbles dissipating around her, each pop-pop-pop taking away a little of the day, the weekend, the sadness. The scene wouldn't play out that way if she were home, but the daydream seemed harmless. Sam and Sophie had sobbed when Evie mentioned going home early. Richard's house may have been their every-other-weekend house, but the beige-brick Georgian held the most recent dad-memories under its vaulted ceilings. They needed to be inside this house and inside this life for a little bit longer — two days longer. Evie needed those days to figure out what was next for all three of them.

"I wanted to thank you for coming," Nicole said. "And for organizing everything. There's so much food, and I heard more is coming tomorrow. I hope you'll take leftovers."

Evie wouldn't take anything, but nodded to be polite. Nicole twisted at the waist over and over again, as if stretching to exercise. It made Evie dizzy.

"You don't have to worry about the food, everyone chipped in," she said, in case that was causing the twisting. She diverted her eyes to the half-empty lox tray on her limited horizon. A lot of food was left, but Jews fed people. That's what we do. It's written somewhere in an ancient scroll: "Thou shalt not let anyone leave thy house hungry." "Everyone chipped in." Evie knew it was a mitzvah — a commandment — to console the bereaved. And nothing was more consoling than nova.

"That's so generous." Nicole stopped swiveling but now shifted from one foot to the other as if she needed to use the bathroom. The fidgeting made Evie want to find Nicole's off-switch. "This is sort of like a wake in reverse," Nicole said. "Wakes come before funerals and there's usually an open casket, you know?" Nicole's cheeks appeared sucked in and hollow; her eyes drifted to a spot on the wall.

Evie squinted and searched for a smudge, a spot, a spider. Nothing. She had nothing else to say.

Baby Luca popped his head from Nicole's shoulder. He blinked and turned his face toward Evie with one creased, pink cheek and watery eyes. With the palm of her hand, Nicole traced a zigzag on his back. She kissed his sweaty head. "Can we talk more another time?"

"Okay." Evie said. If we must.

In the kitchen, the Shiva Brigade rallied. Evie watched with awe as they took the reins. Her next-door neighbor and best friend, Laney, played traffic cop — arms flying, fingers pointing. Laney turned away from the food and gathered her long, auburn curls into a ponytail. She preferred her hair down around her shoulders because it balanced her hips. Laney with a ponytail meant serious business.

Beth shimmied through the crowd. She lived on the other side of Evie and boasted a short, brown bob and petite frame. Her penchant for Lilly Pulitzer and Miss Manners anchored the best-friend trio in suburban sensibilities, which was annoying and endearing. Beth hung winter coats in the closet but arranged the furs by color and length over the oak banister. She primed the non-Jewish guests on shiva, officially the seven-day mourning period, although they'd condensed it to three. A martinet for protocol, Beth put her hands on her knees and whispered in the ears of anyone who sat on the wooden benches, and they moved to softer ground. She had positioned Laney's teenage daughters inside the front door to ensure that guests, upon approaching the house, washed their hands outside, rinsing away death. The pitcher of warm water had already been refilled twice. While on the move, Beth whisked her smartphone out of her quilted purse and used the voice recorder to note the names of everyone who entered with food, whether homemade or store-bought, and the few names of those who brought nothing, unless their names were included on the list for the lox tray. She did all this while combining cream-cheese containers and arranging a plate of kugel.

Evie read Laney's lips from across the room.

"You never go to a shiva house empty-handed," Laney said to Beth as she stacked bakery boxes on Nicole's kitchen counter.

Laney saw the world in black and white. Right and wrong. Good and bad. Evie's life was shades of gray. Like her hair.

Evie's almost-black, wavy hair with its questionable roots hung past her shoulders in an attempt-to-be-trendy array of scattered layers. Her sweeping bangs weren't doing any sweeping, they were just hanging.

The kids were smart to hightail it out of there. Evie didn't want to talk to anyone either, but she was content to people-watch. Richard's cousins from Cleveland huddled in the corner; the older aunts and uncles who migrated to Florida sat in a semicircle talking louder than they should. Neighbors Evie last saw on Halloween and their mutual grad-school friends who were strangers outside e-mail mingled with Pinehurst College faculty and Richard's Ohio State fraternity brothers he had not seen since graduation. Why did they come? For themselves? Richard? The kids? Nicole? For memories? It didn't matter. They were equal when gathered for sadness. But their presence was also akin to a gapers' delay on the tollway, where everyone slowed to see the pileup and then floored it to get away.

* * *

"Not exactly the scenario she planned when she snagged herself a married man and had a baby," Laney said behind a sesame bagel. She eyed her husband. Herb furrowed his brow and sucked in his lips, trapping his words. Laney winked at him and a smile broke through Herb's full lips and mustache. He put his arm around Laney's waist. Evie squelched a gasp. This was normally where Laney would feign an itch on her ankle and step away, but she didn't move, except closer to Herb. Evie watched her friends and counted. One, two, three. She gave it more time. Four, five, six. Flabbergasted, Evie continued. Seven, eight, nine. And with a deep breath — the finale ... ten. Laney did not move away. Richard's death had initiated a truce.

Evie watched Laney as Laney watched Herb. He kissed Laney's head and walked away. Laney then moved to the couch close to Evie, even though Laney could have claimed a whole cushion for herself. She was protective; almost possessive. Beth sat on the other side of Laney, bagel-less, a more suitable space between them. Beth put her arm around Laney and extended it, patting Evie's back.

"This is so sad," Beth said.

Laney sat taller, even though she was already the tallest. She flared her nostrils in disapproval. "Don't you dare feel bad for her. What goes around comes around," Laney said with a bagel bite in her mouth. Laney's shoulders relaxed and she glanced from Beth to Evie. "At least you don't have to deal with her anymore. Or the baby."

Evie hadn't been thinking about Nicole. She'd been thinking about her kids without a father. Herself without an ex-husband. How dare Richard leave her to raise the twins alone — not just sometimes alone — and to juggle a half brother and a stepmother and a Christmas tree! But was Laney right? Was that the silver lining? Would Sam and Sophie even have a stepmother? It would make things easier if they did not. But only easier for Evie. Damn conscience.

"Your kids will be okay no matter," Beth said, as if reading Evie's mind. That possibility was comforting as well as disconcerting because Evie craved more than okay. Evie craved normal.

Laney turned ninety degrees, faced her friends, and pointed at Evie, which startled her out of her daze. "Ms. Evie Glass," she said as if taking attendance, "you are now a divorced mom with a dead ex-husband. JDate will never be the same."

Beth hung her head and, without looking up, smacked Laney's finger. Evie didn't need JDate and Laney knew it. Evie had been dating Scott Miller every other weekend for the past six months, and when the kids were with Evie and she couldn't see Scott, they e-mailed, texted, and talked on the phone late at night. They'd just come back from a weekend in Michigan. That meant something. Evie just wasn't sure what.

* * *

After the rabbi led the evening minyan and finished the service with the traditional Kaddish prayer, Beth and Laney wrapped their arms around Evie in the tightest group hug three people could give. The rocking motion enveloped her in safety, staving off death and Christmas folderol. Then, a shadow blocked the overhead light. The jumbled group separated. There stood Scott with a plate of rugelach.

From that angle, he looked tall to Evie, but he was Jewish five-nine, which meant five-seven — something Evie learned quickly when she started online dating. He held a Christmas paper plate filled with Evie's favorite — the two-bite, flaky, rolled cookies filled with chocolate bits or raspberry jam or nuts or apricot preserves. They had been her grandmother's, Bubbe's, specialty.

Though sweets seemed counterintuitive for mourning, everyone reached into the plate. Evie reached instead for Scott's other hand and noticed his nails, clean, trimmed and buffed as always. He was her man of the moment and foreseeable future. The boyfriend label seemed childish, and the significant other moniker seemed, well, too significant.

"This is Beth and Laney," Evie said, pointing with her chin so she didn't have to let go of the rugelach, or of Scott. For three years — The Divorced Years — Evie had kept her random dating escapades distant from her kids, her friends, and her pristine Chicago suburb of Lakewood. But the best-friend trio had agreed — it was time for Beth and Laney to meet Scott. He was a gentleman, a banker's banker with a receding hairline, an ex-wife in California, but no kids. He made Evie laugh and think and he was great in bed. Evie pointed to the last rugelach, but he shook his head. Such a mensch. Any man who gave up the last rugelach must be a keeper.


Excerpted from The Glass Wives by Amy Sue Nathan. Copyright © 2013 Amy Nathan Gropper. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

AMY SUE NATHAN lives and writes near Chicago where she hosts the popular blog, Women's Fiction Writers. She has published articles in Huffington Post, Chicago Tribune and New York Times Online among many others. Amy is the proud mom of a son and a daughter in college, and a willing servant to two rambunctious rescued dogs.

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The Glass Wives: A Novel 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 8 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
quaintinns More than 1 year ago
This debut novel The Glass Wives by Amy Sue Nathan was nicely done and look forward to reading more from this author. The family unit (non-traditional) is the main element of the novel, with Evie Glass as main character, and finds herself raising her 10 yr old twins (Sophie and Sam) alone after her ex-husband dies in a tragic accident. Then comes Richard’s second wife, Nichole who is also raising her toddler son (Luca). The second wife (former mistress) turns to the first wife (oh, you really have to humble yourself to do this) to come together to raise their children. (so much for cutting ties to the second wife…..right?) I can sympathize with both women as I have been a first and second wife. (Single is much better) However, these two women have to put their children first and the bond between them. Also Evie decides this may help her financially as well (as she has no choice). Can Evie trust the woman who had an affair with her husband at one time? There is new meaning to dysfunctional families – sometimes we do not have to be a traditional family to develop strong bonds and ties. Sometimes friends and outsiders can be more like family than our biological ones. Amy does a great job demonstrating compassion with these two grieving families, while portraying the narrow-mindedness of the not so accepting neighbors.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
MasonCanyon More than 1 year ago
As families split apart forming new units, the idealized notion of a traditional family can change drastically. The family core is the focus of Amy Sue Nathan’s debut novel, THE GLASS WIVES: A Novel. She explores what makes a family unit and why traditional sometimes has to be altered. Narrator Joyce Bean does an excellent job bringing these characters to life. Her varied vocalization gives each character their own distinct voice. Bean brings out the various emotions and energy the author has woven throughout the story. Evie Glass never thought her ex-husband Richard could turn her world upside down again. But when Richard died suddenly in a traffic wreck, she found out how wrong she was. Now she is left to raise their twins on her own. Richard’s second wife, Nicole, is also left to raise their infant son on her own. She turns to Evie, wanting to create a family unit with her and Richard’s other children. At first, despite the tragedy of Richard’s death, Evie sees it as a way to free herself and the twins from ever dealing with Nicole and her baby again. She didn’t count on how deeply her children cared for their half brother. And she especially didn’t count on having to seek financial help to keep her home without Richard’s monthly support payments. When Nicole offers to pay rent and move in with her and the kids, Evie dismissed it, but soon realizes she doesn’t have a choice. Just as things are settling into a familiar routine, Evie discovers Nicole may be up to no good, trying to pull off a scheme behind her back. Evie has to decide if she can trust the woman who had an affair with her husband and destroyed her marriage. Nathan has created likable characters with realistic problems and emotions. While Evie came off a bit self-centered to me at times, she also had moments of compassion and tenderness for balance. Nathan also weaves in how secrets, even among friends, can sometimes be damaging. In addition, the author gives vivid descriptions and explanations for a Jewish life that add another layer to the story. THE GLASS WIVES moves at a steady pace and holds the reader/listener’s attention with a few surprising twists and turns along the way. FTC Full Disclosure - This audio book was sent to me by the publisher in hopes I would review it. However, receiving the complimentary copy did not influence my review.
arlenadean More than 1 year ago
By: Amy Sue Nathan Published By: St Martin's Griffin Age Recommended: Adult Reviewed By: Arlena Dean Rating: 4 Book Blog For: GMTA Review: "The Glass Wives" by Amy Sue Nathan was a different kind of read for me but it was a good contemporary read about relationships and family. The story as on the back of the cover: “There’s no love lost between the ex and the widow.” No question this is an understatement. It’s been several years since Nicole Glass had an affair with, then married Evie Glass’s husband, Richard. Yet, after Richard’s death, Evie chooses to see past her animosity—partially for financial reasons but also for the sake of her 10-year-old twins and Nicole’s baby Luca—and invites Nicole to move into her home." Now, how is this to work ...as you read you will see that his author 'handles this with honesty, humor and empathy.' You will be drawn into it all.. 'from kitchen and food preparation to visits for memorable best friends and family time with Nicole and Evie's children.' This author did a wonderful job at showing the lives of "The Glass Wives" which ended as a blended 'Glass Family.' This novel was definitely one 'from friendship to marriage...to family relationships to motherhood.' I think I understood this novel a little more though reading. This novel wasn't just about there last names but now they say themselves in each other. This was a family not merely by blood but caught up into a situation where it can be friends, neighbor, strangers and in this situation.. ex's that were forced to redefine family after a life changing event. This one was a thought provoking read that will leave you with some thoughts long after the read. Would I recommend? YES!
BarbaraClaypoleWhite More than 1 year ago
The premise of this novel is intriguing: when Evie's ex-husband dies in a car accident, she must create a new normal for her ten-year-old twins that may or may not include their baby half-brother and Nicole, the woman who destroyed her marriage. Add two devoted girlfriends with their own opinions concerning Evie's future, and The Glass Wives is a wonderful story about the shifting boundaries of female friendship. Nothing is predictable; nothing is black or white. When Nicole suggests sharing living expenses--and Evie's home--Evie has to decide what is best for her children and what makes a family. As she lets go of her old life, and decides whom to trust, the normal foundations of home and hearth dissolve. But what I loved most about the story is the way expectations fall apart to reform in gloriously unexpected ways. All Evie's relationships are tested and stretched as characters surprise each other and the reader. Several times throughout the novel, the actions of others--past and present--force Evie to reassess her core values and put aside personal judgment. As her friend Beth says, "No one is just a collection of her mistakes." A devoted mother and friend, Evie is a wonderful heroine, and we cheer her on as she journeys through the practical and emotional repercussions of death. Even when she's schlepping about the house in her terry robe, nibbling on leftover rugelach and worrying about finances, Evie doesn't wallow in self-pity. I loved her ability to stand up for her kids and for herself, and to not be intimidated by the opinions of others. Her brutal honesty is refreshing. For example, when she reveals a devastating truth to Nicole, Nicole comments, "You're lying to hurt me." Evie's response is, "No, I'm telling the truth to hurt you." I highly recommend this beautifully written debut.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I thought this was a fantastic debut novel. It was well written and while the situation is unusual, you felt yourself empathizing for the characters. Most people probably wouldn't take in their ex husband's widow, and I thought that showed a lot of Grace on Evie's part. This was a really quick read - I finished in 2 days and raced through to the end. 
VirtuousWomanKF More than 1 year ago
This book was just ok for me.  Parts were extremely slow and I didn't really buy into the premise, nor did I like the characters.  I did like learning about the Jewish funeral traditions but felt the book was flat.