Patricia Gaffney's women's fiction books are a real challenge for me. I can't resist them, because she's such a fabulous writer, and because she's witty and wise and, well, I don't think it's exaggerating much to call her a goddess. On the other hand, it's women's fiction. In general, it's the one genre I loathe. At best, it's serious. At worst, it's whiny women who blame men for all their problems. It's a good thing I love Gaffney, because otherwise I'd hate her. Not only does she make me read women's fiction... she makes me love it.
Dash and Andrew have been married nearly 20 years. He's a stuffy history professor, she's a free-spirited photographer. Dash's mother died recently, and now their only child is going off to college. Then a puppy shows up on their doorstep. Dash wants to keep it; Andrew's allergic. Dash and the puppy move out, going to their cottage.
Andrew: She's leaving me? Over a puppy?
Dash: How can he not see that it's not about the puppy?
I'd venture to say that most long-married couples will recognize the spirit behind their confusion--Pat has human nature down so well that these characters feel utterly real.
Like many couples in their situation, they've taken each other for granted, focused on their careers, their children, their aging parents, and when that outside focus is taken away, they find themselves married to someone they don't know, and maybe don't even like all that much. And the women (though this could apply to men, too, but in this case, it's Dash) discover that after years of devoting themselves to other people--husband, parents, children--there's nothing left of themselves.
How Dash and Andrew cope with the separation and learn and grow and find themselves and each other again is a story full of warmth and humor and pain and love and realism. It's truly a wonderful book.
All the moreso because it brought me to an odd realization about myself, which was both uncomfortable and inspiring.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book.