What do we do with bad news of the dead? A near-perfect second marriage is disrupted—first by death, then by posthumous revelations.
Boston bookstore owner Graham McFarlane is such a lovable and forgivable man that the ex-wife he cheated on, Frieda, and her replacement, a photographer named Annie, whom he is also cheating on, are close friends. Woman No. 3 is not going to make it into the circle, though, as Graham dies of a heart attack the day after he stops by her house to break up with her in a fit of uxoriousness and remorse. This death happens fairly early in the book, but since the reader knows about the affair and Annie does not, the first two-thirds of Miller’s 13th novel are infused with a merry narrative tension. That energy dissipates somewhat when Annie eventually finds out about Graham's infidelity. At this point the novel becomes more meditative, sticking close to Annie as she deals with the disorienting feeling that she never really knew the man she deeply loved—and who so clearly loved her—for 30 years. As their daughter, Sarah, describes her “Rabelaisian” father, “He was big, in every way. A lover of life. And kind.…He made people happy, without even trying.” Of course the last thing Annie wants is for Graham’s children, or anyone else, to know what she now knows. Miller’s skill at depicting the intricacies of marriage, parenting, and domestic life, the atmosphere of the independent bookstore, and the pleasures of flowers, wine, and food (a craving for split pea soup with ham and dill, served with “a loaf of dark rye [from] Formaggio,” lingers still) makes this book charming and inviting in a way that is somewhat at odds with its sorrowful impetus.
A thoughtful and realistic portrait of those golden people who seem to have such enviable lives.