In her best-selling debut, Commencement, J. Courtney
Sullivan explored the complicated and contradictory landscape of
female friendship. Now, in her highly anticipated second novel,
Sullivan takes us into even richer territory, introducing four
unforgettable women who have nothing in common but the fact that,
like it or not, they’re family.
For the Kellehers, Maine is a place where children run in packs,
showers are taken outdoors, and old Irish songs are sung around a
piano. Their beachfront property, won on a barroom bet after the war,
sits on three acres of sand and pine nestled between stretches of
rocky coast, with one tree bearing the initials “A.H.” At the
cottage, built by Kelleher hands, cocktail hour follows morning mass,
nosy grandchildren snoop in drawers, and decades-old grudges simmer
beneath the surface.
As three generations of Kelleher women descend on the property one
summer, each brings her own hopes and fears. Maggie is thirty-two and
pregnant, waiting for the perfect moment to tell her imperfect
boyfriend the news; Ann Marie, a Kelleher by marriage, is channeling
her domestic frustration into a dollhouse obsession and an
ill-advised crush; Kathleen, the black sheep, never wanted to set
foot in the cottage again; and Alice, the matriarch at the center of
it all, would trade every floorboard for a chance to undo the events
of one night, long ago.
By turns wickedly funny and achingly sad, Maine unveils the
sibling rivalry, alcoholism, social climbing, and Catholic guilt at
the center of one family, along with the abiding, often irrational
love that keeps them coming back, every summer, to Maine and to each
other.