I don't even remember when I finished reading this book, but it was probably close to two weeks ago. I had intended to blog about it while sitting around at the airport on my way out of town on Friday the 12th. But when the time came, I realized I had forgotten to take a cover photo, which threw me off enough that I decided to wait until I got back home. But I didn't manage to squeeze it in until this evening. While I'm sure I never had anything profound to write, I'm also sure that if I had, I would have lost it to the mists of time by now.
So you'll have to settle for whatever synopsis I can scrape from my brain, plus a brief verdict. This book starts in July 1973 with two rookie cops in NYC: Francis Gleeson and Brian Stanhope. They end up as next door neighbors in a small (fictional, I think, but idyllic) town north of the city, where they are friendly enough, but definitely not friends. Brian's wife Anne certainly never warms up to Francis's wife Lena, anyway. But eventually there are children in the picture, and Kate Gleeson and Peter Stanhope establish a strong bond despite the lack of connection between their parents.
This is one of those really complicated family dramas. I honestly did not expect to like it that much, but it was very engrossing. At least I think that's what I thought. But I may need to read again, yes?
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