This is a love story that starts, ironically, when the world feels like it might end – in New York City, on 9/11/01. Lucy and Gabe feel it too – they reach for each other, barely knowing each other, and then it’s over. But years later, when they meet again, the spark is reignited, and this begins a heartbreaker for Lucy that she endures quite in spite of herself.
The voice is what is unique in this story and I think is what engages the reader. It is written from Lucy to Gabe, almost as a letter, which gives it a very intimate feel. On the other hand, because we only hear Lucy’s voice, it can sometimes feel one-dimensional. There is no layering of the plot, but rather a single-mindedness of the narrative becomes almost droning as the novel progresses.
What is more deeply troubling about this novel, however, is that once again, the outwardly independent female character is bound to a male character and jumps to his beck and call each and every time. I felt myself literally growing angry as Lucy again and again fell into this same pattern. While Lucy does not go with Gabe when he needs to travel for his life work – hurrah for her – she then pines for him throughout the rest of the book, answering his calls whenever he deigns to reach out and dropping everything for him when he needs her. (Really? We’ve not moved past that?). And while she notices when her new boyfriend, Darren, makes plans without her input- and gets angry about it – she never stands up to him or says anything about it. Why can’t our female characters be unequivocally strong? I’m tired of this.
I think this book was off to a great start, and had great potential but was just disappointing on multiple levels. Oh, well!