In the novel Someday Home by Lauraine Snelling, Lynn Lundberg is adjusting to widowhood. She loves that her home is the central gathering place for the children and grandchildren who all live nearby, but otherwise it’s too large for just one person. She reads about a concept called house sharing in which rooms are rented out to others and everyone shares responsibilities. After doing some research and convincing her children that the idea is a good one, she begins to seek two other ladies to share her home.
She finds one through her son’s friend. His mom, Angela, was blindsided by her husband’s request for a divorce. She had spent years remaking herself into the kind of wife he wanted, even weighing less than she did in high school – but all for naught since he found someone else. Needing a place to stay, heal, and figure out her next steps, she accepts Lynn’s offer.
A chance meeting leads to another tenant. Judith spent all of her adult life caring for her ailing father, setting aside college and other dreams. Upon his death, she learns he willed the family home not to her, but to the historical society to be made into a public venue. So she also needs a quiet place to stay and time to decide what to do next.
Naturally there are some bumps along the way. Lynn is used to being the family matriarch and has to learn that independent middle-aged women don’t appreciate being “mothered.” The other ladies have not had their own voice for years and have to learn how and when to use it. They all have anger issues and wrestle with the need to forgive those who have wronged them. But ultimately they learn to work together and appreciate each other’s differences.
This story caught my eye both because it was a Kindle sale, plus I had read some of this author’s historical fiction. I enjoyed the aspects of each of these women learning to live together and having to determine in their middle years what to do with the rest of their lives and in
But there are a number of awkward sentences, like this one:
Fighting back the tears—again, she stumbled through her morning routine—and after dressing (which took some serious self-talk; the bed had looked so inviting, or at least oblivion did), she made her way down the split-log stairs and into the kitchen, where the cat was sniffing the dog dish, water bowl, and then looking out the window to the deck.
Thankfully there are only a half-dozen or so, but they are a bit jarring. I don’t remember coming across that kind of thing in her other books, but then it has been a long time since I read them. I thought at first perhaps they were all connected with Lynn, who is in the throes of menopause: maybe this was supposed to reflect her scattered thinking. But they don’t seem to be limited to her scenes.
Other than that, and one minor theological quibble in one sentence, I thought the writing, the characters, and the story were all good.