"This particular unit," the rental agent said, "gets a lot of sunlight. It's really a very bright unit."
Ruth wished she wouldn't call the apartment a "unit." It was a residence, a dwelling. A home.
Not a home like the house where her children had grown up and where Richard still lived. Not a spacious colonial with rhododendrons and daffodils and spirea that Ruth herself had planted, and ancient pines bordering the backyard and towering above the roofline. Not a house with a kitchen big enough to prepare a Thanksgiving feast or a Seder for the whole family and a finished-basement rec room with a ping-pong table, and a formal living room that always looked so pristine because it was so rarely used. Not a house with an elegant master bedroom suite, with two walk-in closets and a sleek fiberglass tub in the bathroom.
This place - this unit - was very bright. That would be enough.
It would be perfect.
I really liked how this story delved into each of the main character's lives; you could even write spin-off novels about each of them. They all live in Boston except for the youngest, Melissa, who is an NYC lawyer. Jill is a housewife who writes catalog copy during the day, and Doug is an eye doctor that does Lasik and is super rich because of that. The book doesn't really talk about their childhoods much but chooses to focus on the present and the "situation," and how each of the kids (and their kids, in Jill and Doug's cases) are dealing with Ruth and Richard's separation.
4 stars out of 5.
*Disclosure: I received an e-galley from NetGalley of this book to review. The opinions expressed here, however, are my own.