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A novel of how family happens—whether you like it or not Elaine and Carson Forsyth have returned to the tree house—Elaine's childhood home, a cabin nestled high in the branches of two oaks beside a North Carolina lake—where forty-nine-year-old Carson has chosen to spend the waning days of his life. As Elaine prepares for a future without her beloved husband, their solace is interrupted. Carson's mother, Greta, has set loose a neighbor's herd of alpacas and landed herself in police custody. While Carson, remarkably, sees humor in the situation, Elaine can only question what her obligations are—and will be—to a woman who hasn't spoken to her in more than twenty years. In the wake of Carson's death, Elaine and their grown son, Mick, are thrust into the maelstrom of Greta, the mother-in-law and grandmother who never accepted either of them. Just as they are trying to figure out their new roles in the family, Mick uncovers unexpected questions of his own. A long-ago teenage relationship with a local girl may have left him with more than just memories, and he must get to the bottom of Greta's surprising accusations that he's not Carson's son at all.
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Carson is dying. Elaine brings her husband home to die and comes face to face with her estranged mother-in-law, a woman who has refused to speak to her for twenty years.
I should have known what I was going to get with a cover like this one. The cover shows two pairs of women's legs in rolled-up pants, hanging out of a canoe, with a book in their laps. The story, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with canoes or reading at all, but the cover photo does foretell that the story inside will be a comfortable tale of women's fiction, a story you might like to read with your pants rolled up and your legs hanging over the edge of a canoe.
I did know what I was going to get after reading nothing more than chapter one. It is that predictable.
Nothing wrong with that. Just don't go into this book expecting anything more.