I had no idea who Joyce Maynard was until the winter of 1999, when I read At Home in the World, her memoir. That book garnered much attention in a negative way-Maynard revealed a very personal story (her own experience, mind you) involving JD Salinger. The two shared a relationship, which profoundly affected her (as a writer and a woman), when she was 18. Salinger, notoriously reclusive, instigated the relationship, and it was far from idyllic. Once Maynard revealed portions of his life, she was very publicly castrated from the literary world's good graces. In doing so, I fell in love with her. This is only the second piece of Maynard's fiction that I've read, and I will definitely be looking for more.
Henry is a 13 year old boy, living in the tension of a split family. His relationship with his mother is close, bordering on inappropriate. He senses this, but has no vocabulary for describing his mother's emotional frailty. Here we find him coming to terms with this, as well as his distanced relationship with his father and new step-family.
Over Labor Day weekend-six short days -we see Henry discover pieces of what he's been missing. A stranger approaches during a rare shopping trip and asks for Henry's help. This stranger is Frank. Frank enters Henry's home and shows him a new idea of family, of being there for one another, of normalcy. In the most abnormal way.
I loved every awkward moment that Henry experiences through learning what every child should-love is love, regardless of how it appears to the outsider.
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