I know it's been a horribly long time since I last posted--it isn't that I haven't been reading, I have definitely been reading a TON! I just got busy with work and then some of the books I read recently were good reads but just not ones that I thought were postworthy.Which is what I thought was going to be the same with this book. I think I read about the book in a magazine and thought it looked like a quick, interesting read so I put it on my paperbackswap.com wish list and then received it some point later on.
This book was such a powerful but simple book. I was right in that it was a quick read, partially because I just couldn't put the book down but it was much more of an intense book than I had imagined.
The story is told in two voices, Lily Waters, a journalist who is divorced with two kids; and Michael Angelo (yes yes, very humorous) who is her gay best friend and pretty much the only father her children have known. The first scene of the book is the morning of Lily's fortieth birthday, with Michael calling her at five thirty in the morning to make sure he's the first person to wish her a happy birthday. It is already there that we see the deep connection these two have to each other.
The book is ultimately about Lily's discovery that she has been diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer. It was a complete accidental diagnosis-it was supposed to be a humorous tale of her breasts getting smashed and kneaded like dough. . . It turned into so much more than that.
The author, Erica Orloff, is one I had never heard of before, but writes so simply and beautifully about what what all of us want and few of us truly have: a friend that will be there no matter what-holding the pot you puke into or raising your children when their "Spawn of Satan" father ditches them for a child bride in England.
This book was originally supposed to be one of those books I read and immediately swapped back but I think I'm going to keep this one on the shelves for now . . . who knows? Maybe I've found that friend who will sit with me while I puke or they are still out there. . .
