53 pages • 1 hour read
Linda HolmesA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“There was more to retrieve from the house, but she slid into the front seat and closed the door, leaning back against the headrest with their eyes closed. Holy s***, I'm really going. In a few hours, she would be in some chain hotel with scratchy bedspreads and a ragtag cable lineup. She would buy a bottle of wine, or a box of it, and she'd lie dead center in the king-sized bed and drink and wiggle her toes and read for as long as she wanted. But then she began to wonder what she would do tomorrow, and there wasn't time for that, so she took a deep breath and got out of the car to go get the rest of her things. She was walking up the driveway when her phone rang.”
This paragraph is the culmination of Evvie’s inner struggle about whether she will leave the loveless relationship with her emotionally abusive husband, Tim. Fearing she will never be able to summon the inner strength to leave if she does not go now, she packs her car with necessities and experiences this moment of exultation. The intruding phone call announces that Tim has been in a fatal car wreck. This puts Evvie into a spiral of guilt, partly imagining that her departure caused his death and partly hating herself for not grieving over Tim’s demise. Later, inebriated, she laments that she should never have tried to achieve happiness.
“‘‘Tell her what? […] Tell her we earnestly tried to look meaningfully at each other. And that it was the least sexy thing that has ever happened between two humans, maybe ever.’ We both cracked up laughing.”
Holmes provides the emotional boundaries of the relationship Evvie shares with her best friend, Andy. She indirectly describes the moment when the two tested the possibility of being romantically involved and found it ridiculous. This is important to Holmes, who says in the Book Club Guide that men and women possess and benefit from platonic friendships, and that there is a dearth of literature describing such relationships.
“Dean reached over to rub his right shoulder. ‘Yeah, make your jokes. I went to eight sports psychologists and two psychiatrists.’ He started counting off on his fingers. ‘I did acupuncture, acupressure, suction cups on my shoulders, and candles […] ask me about that sometime. I quit gluten, I quit sugar, I quit sex, I had extra sex, I ate no meat, just meat. I took creative movement classes, I was hypnotized a lot, and I learned how to meditate. That's the one I still do, by the way.’ He looked at Andy, who had his mouth twisted into a perplexed curve. ‘Where did I lose you? Extra sex?’”
Here, Dean and Andy discuss various treatments Dean used unsuccessfully to overcome the yips, his sudden, permanent inability to pitch a baseball. His list reveals his yearning to continue playing baseball and the futility of each failed method. Unlike many of the fans and pundits who viciously turned against Dean, Andy’s friendship precedes Dean’s time as a professional athlete. Andy perceives Dean as a human being rather than a commodity.
“Later, when he had brought her to Christmas parties and she wouldn't dance, she knew that all it did was make them love him more. They’d all say, ‘Oh Eveleth, don't be silly.’ She'd say no, she wasn't feeling well, and then they look at Tim with sympathy, like What a good man you are to love this. They wouldn't have believed that the reason she rarely felt like dancing with him had to do with the way he was at home.”
The emotional mistreatment Holmes describes Tim perpetrating upon Evvie is subtle but devastating. Throughout, the author reveals that Tim, who is widely regarded as a saint in his hometown, bullies, gaslights, and demeans his wife. This traumatizes Evvie prior to appearing in public settings such as the dance described here: When Evvie balks at being close to Tim on the dance floor, it causes party goers to perceive her as a burden Tim must bear rather than an abused woman.
“‘You said it was great for his mom and his dad, his friends. I’m asking how it was for you.’ Evvie licked her lips. ‘Um.’ And she couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t. Now she was going to cry. Now, in her kitchen, while she was making tea, while she was talking to someone who was probably not ready to be promoted north of ‘acquaintance,’ she was going to cry. She’d had to pray for wet eyes at the tree planting, had to coax a lump into her throat while everyone else was sniffling away, and now this. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to look like she was thinking about what to say.”
Dean, newly moved in, asks Evvie for her response to Tim’s memorial tree-planting. The significance of this passage is twofold. First, it reveals the degree to which the reclusive Evvie hides her emotions. She is alarmed, fearing she might reveal her true pain because she knows she is secretly alone in her revulsion toward Tim. Second, this demonstrates Dean’s innate ability to connect with Evvie on an emotional level. He is an honest person who has suffered for no crime beyond giving his best effort and thus is attuned to others similarly victimized. The two seem to understand one another empathetically long before they are willing to be open about their deepest feelings.
“‘So with Tim, I think a lot of people knew that if he were their kid, they might have encouraged him to get out. But he didn't, and they loved him for it […] Besides, he was cute, he was friendly as long as you did live with him, and he married his high school sweetheart. He just had that thing. That thing that makes certain guys kind of glide across everything.’ She skimmed her flat hand through the air. ‘To some of the people who had watched him grow up, I think he was...a unicorn […] anywhere else, he just be a nice-looking horse.’
Evvie description of Tim’s choice to remain in Calcasset conveys her deep understanding of Tim’s psyche. It correlates closely with her willingness to falter academically so he could graduate as the high school valedictorian. She also recalls his rage at not winning the distinguished student award, causing his parents to push for the creation of a second award for him to receive. Tim lived for the adulation of others, yet he was incapable of the self-honesty required for true intimacy.
“‘She gave a little ‘hmm’ that wasn't quite a real laugh. ‘I don't know about excited, but it'll be good to see everybody. I didn't do last holiday season.’
‘Understandable,’ he said, rubbing his shoulder.”
This conversation takes place between Evvie and Dean as they prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving with their families. Dean’s parents have come to Maine from Colorado. For both, this will be the first family celebration since withdrawing from public view, and Holmes portrays neither of them as positively excited. Evvie’s half-laugh and Dean’s rubbing of his right shoulder are unique symbols of the pair’s discomfort.
“‘‘Okay, fine.’ She sat up. ‘Why can't you pitch?’
He flinched. She saw it, even in the dark. ‘Don't know. Tried a lot of things to figure it out, but I couldn't. That's that, and it's done. No point in crying about it. It sucked, but I'm over it.’
You knock yourself out over smashing pinecones in the dark, she thought. Who are you kidding?”
This conversation between Evvie and Dean takes place as they ride home in his truck following the tumultuous Thanksgiving meal. Though they confront each other about being dishonest, their disagreement is not rancorous. While readers may focus on the sharpness of the criticisms each voices, the greater underlying reality is that they achieve a new level of intimacy. Holmes points out that, although they do not disclose themselves to others, they are completely honest with one another.
“‘It's weird,’ Eveleth told him, ‘having this thing about me that's because I was married before, and I can't ever get rid of it unless I get married again. Do you realize I can't ever just be single? I can only be married or be a widow, ever.’
Andy thought about it for thought for a minute, then held up one finger. ‘What would you be if you got remarried and then you got divorced?’
‘Huh,’ she said. ‘I think I'd be divorced.’
‘What if you got remarried and then got it annulled?’
‘Then I think I’d go back to being a widow.’”
This conversation between Evvie and Andy displays the author’s reflections on the labels and assumptions society places on individuals. Here, an unmarried woman is labeled by social custom. Along with these roles, Holmes implies definitive sets of expected behaviors. As a widow, Evvie is expected to remain in grief for a certain roughly defined period, following which her grief should end. She experiences negative judgment if she enters into a romantic relationship before her grief “should” be over.
“She didn't even know that she'd expected him to be happy to see her until he wasn't. Now, realizing that she had followed him and it was in the middle of the night, the awkwardness of it crept down her spine. It felt like a kind of involuntary cloning, where a copy of herself stepped away and stared. It saw this man trying to enjoy some solitude in the middle of the night and this crazy lady who showed up in her pajamas without being invited. She could think of nothing to say except ‘Okay, bye,’ which she suspected would result in death by human combustion, attributable to humiliation. She felt frozen in place, unable to imagine even a graceful retreat.”
Dean speaks to Andy the day of the extremely negative Esquire article but not to Evvie, who desperately wants to console him. When Dean leaves the house in the middle of the night, Evvie intuits he has gone to the baseball field and finds him there. In this, she violates Andy’s dictate to her that she not try to fix Dean. For Holmes, this scene is the confluence of both characters’ weaknesses: Dean has not recovered from his failure as a pitcher, and Evvie cannot overcome her yearning to be helpful.
“He grabbed the right side of his jersey with one hand and, keeping the other hand on the wheel, he yanked it up to reveal good part of his right side. His eyes were still on the road, so he didn't see her mouth open and then close as she took in his side, his skin, a patch of the belly that drummed against his shirt when he laughed. Something in her knees answered this with an appreciative pulse, and it came to her with bell-pealing clarity: Oh, right, she thought. Lust.”
During their trip to Boston to pick up a vintage pinball machine, Dean and Evvie have a wide-ranging conversation which results in Dean showing his tattoo to her. Holmes uses this passage to show Evvie becoming aware of a series of powerful emotions. Evvie here labels the titillation she feels toward Dean as undeniable romantic arousal.
“‘‘Were you leaving?’ He waited. ‘Were you leaving him?’ Again. ‘Were you leaving him that night? Evvie?’”
Holmes captures the moment Andy feels he has been doubly betrayed by Evvie. First, she did not tell Andy that she was leaving Tim the very night of his fatal accident, and that the reason for her despondency arose from how her marriage ended. Second, despite his constant attention and the compassionate care he lavished upon Evvie for over a year, she never explained to him the real reason for her grief or the secret, pathetic state of her marriage. Andy, despite his assurance that he can cope with this revelation with no harm to their relationship, implicitly loses his ability to trust Evvie, and the two drift apart.
“‘‘You're very... caring. Literally. You took care of your dad, you took care of Tim, you took care of me when Lori left. I just don't want you to take in strays for the rest of your life. You're the kind of person who winds up with a two-legged dog that you can pull around in a cart.[…] ‘It's absolutely a kind of person. It's a person who ends up running a doll hospital and putting little tiny toothpick splints on birds with broken legs.’
This is the first Saturday morning conversation between Evvie and Andy after her admission that she planned to leave Tim. Andy has Monica with him and pushes the boundaries of their friendship, lecturing Evvie. The author conveys Andy’s veiled hostility, enabled by inviting Monica, thus putting Evvie on her best behavior. Moreover, he opens up some of the more sensitive, intimate elements of their history and relationship in front of Monica.
“Dean threw like big cats pounce in nature documentaries. She could know it was coming, she could watch him settle, she could watch the twitches while he waited, but every time it happened it was still surprising how merciless it was and how silently it was done. […] He looked at her, a little out of breath. ‘Why are we out here?’
‘This doesn't look to me like you're throwing all over the place,’ she called over to him. ‘What am I missing?’
Telling Dean she wants him to teach her how to pitch, Evvie lures him to a practice field where he tosses baseballs to her. Eventually, she convinces him to show her how he pitches. Since this occurs immediately after Andy warns her not to try to fix Dean, the underlying dynamic is Evvie assumption that, unlike all the doctors and counselors, she can restore Dean’s pitching ability. While this might seem intrusive and presumptuous on Evvie’s part, her effort is transparent. This implies that Dean also wants to try playing baseball again.
“Marco ran out and leapt at him for a righteous chest-bump that was perfectly captured by Charlotte Penney, a ninth-grader in the front row on the first base side. Charlotte tweeted the video, which was passed on by her cousin Brenda, then by Brenda's boyfriend Steve, then by Steve's dad Rick, then by Rick's college roommate Michael McCasey, a sports journalist at a very small news site, and then by Walt Willette, a sports journalist at a very big news site. This all took four minutes.”
Dean’s former prominence, magnified by the inglorious way his pitching career ended, results in huge interest from the 2500 fans gathered for the exhibition game. Holmes realistically portrays the chain of events—six degrees of separation from the minor league field to a major sports network—to demonstrate how rapidly an interesting news story develops. In this case, the story is positive. The author also describes the rapid spread of negative and hurtful news.
“Her fortunes were a mixed bag: widow with a huge house, no real job, a semidetached best friend, and what seemed to be an appointment in three days to have sex with one of the best pitchers of the last twenty years. But she was smart enough to know that maybe her most important lucky break was one of her first: that when he told her ‘me neither,’ he meant it. And now, looking at him eating a bowl of good chowder, ignoring the sore back she knew he had almost all the time, she could only hope to be as good to him. ‘I love you Pop.’
Evvie has mixed feelings about her father. She reflects on her abandonment by her mother and the reality that her life has not worked out the way she expected, though there are positive as well as negative aspects. She understands the value of her father’s commitment to remain steadfast as her parent, and she commits to be present for him as well. Holmes wants to make clear that Evvie is reworking her most important relationships as a part of her new beginning.
“‘Is there a rule that once you're famous, you can only date people who are also famous?’
‘There is not,’ he said slowly. ‘It's more like...once I was the public person, it got harder being around a lot of people who weren't. That makes me sound like a jerk—it's not because I was so cool or awesome or anything. It's just because it was weird being the only person there who everybody knew about.’”
Holmes captures the essence of what it means to be a celebrity. She describes Dean’s world, in which the public’s growing awareness of him shrinks his personal orbit of comfort. She also writes from experience as a person who herself is a celebrity. Ironically, she wrote these words when she was simply a nationally known NPR reporter, before she became a worldwide bestselling author.
“But practically every day after that, I’d go back in and I'd lie on the floor and add something to this story I was writing in my head. I wasn't going to do it. It was just an idea. What if I stayed away a weekend, where would I go? Did I have enough money to go to Boston for a week? What would I need? What would I take? How long could I go? And I don't even know what he said to me, but there was some night when I was lying there listening to the ceiling fan rattling, and I thought, what if I left and I never came back? That's when I started having these fantasies about where I would go, that I’d go live in the mountains. I'd have some little cabin, I have a dog, and have a job. I had these fantasies where I turned into a new person nothing had ever happened to.”
Riding home with Dean after their night at the hotel, Evvie describes the progression of her thoughts that eventually drove her to the point of leaving Tim. These nightly fantasies took place as she lay on the floor in the apartment now occupied by Dean. Holmes uses Dean, who now occupies her meditation place in the apartment, as a symbol of the new fulfillment of Evvie’s dreams. Her reference to having a job, a small dwelling, and a dog foreshadow exactly the moves Evvie makes once Dean moves out.
“‘Hello, Eveleth!’ Oh, God. ‘It's your mom. I'm going to be in Portland in September, and I was hoping we could get together. I haven't seen you in ages, and I hope you're doing well. By the way, my friend Foster saw your name in the paper in the story about your friend who's a baseball player. It sounds very exciting and I can't wait to hear all about it. Bye-bye, honey, call me back.’”
While Evvie and others talk frequently about her mother, Eileen, this is the first direct contact between Evvie and her mom in the book. Readers may note that Evvie either does not have her mother’s number saved in her phone, or her mother has changed her number. The instant she hears her mother’s voice, Evvie has an immediate negative reaction. The message itself, with the reference to Dean voiced as an afterthought, implies that the real reason Eileen is contacting her is because Evvie’s relationship with Dean makes Evvie newsworthy.
“‘Evvie, I worked on this back in New York until I drove myself crazier than I already was. I did every g****** thing they told me to do, everything. I don't understand what you expected to happen. I don't understand what I expected to happen.’ He leaned against the counter. ‘I mean, did you think I was going to be able to pitch now because we're sleeping together?’
Hearing this question like was like biting down on a bad tooth, right to the nerve. ‘I didn't think that.’ Oh, but you did, you did, you did.
‘It's over he said. I'm telling you it's over. All this is over.’”
This conversation between Evvie and Dean after his failed tryout with the Phillies marks the moment when Dean officially puts aside any last hope that he might be a big-league pitcher again. It also marks the moment when Evvie must acknowledge she violated Andy’s warning not to fix Dean, failing in the process. Dean’s repeated assertion that everything is over initiates the process of breaking up with Evvie and leaving the apartment, something neither of them truly desires.
“On her knees, on her floor, in the house she never wanted, she couldn't catch her breath. She felt like she was floating above herself, observing this woman on the floor who was sobbing, and then wailing, and then this woman on her knees on the floor was screaming. Part of Evvie was watching and thinking, What is happening, am I having a panic attack, am I crazy, am I dying? And part of her gulped air into her lungs and made it into this sound over and over again, a sound she'd never heard herself make before. Whatever was angrier than crying and much bigger than yelling and felt more like a seizure than a shout, that's what this sound was, and even if she was still making it, it registered: Thank God I am the only person who will ever see myself like this. Thank God, thank God.”
While silently dealing with her unexpressed grief that Dean has moved out, Evvie causes a kitchen mess of such magnitude that she falls to her knees and breaks down, verbally and physically embodying the extremes of rage and sorrow. Holmes implies that the kitchen accident broke down the last of her barriers to expressing emotions, causing her to behave in a way that shocked and confused her. This makes her question her mental health and call out to Andy for help. Her question of whether she is dying is pertinent in that the result of this moment is permanent and complete change: Evvie’s emotional rebirth.
“‘That's not weird, Evvie,’ Monica said. ‘That's sort of...emotionally abusive.’
Evvie had told stories about cutting her foot open on the debris of her husband's anger, and about his temper. She had dreamed over and over about his red face and his hot breath. She had told Dean, right from the beginning, that it wasn't good for her. That she didn't love him. That she had whispered that she didn't miss him. He was mean, she had told Andy. But there it was, a diagnosis like you give someone with a fever and a red throat, where you'd peek with a flashlight and say, hmm, and then you say that you'd be spitballing, that you're no expert, but it sure looked like strep to you. That's sort of emotionally abusive.”
For the first time, lying on the apartment floor and talking casually with Monica, Evvie hears someone express the reality that her late husband was verbally abusive. Holmes portrays this as a moment of revelation, in which Evvie fully recognizes the legitimacy of her desire to end her marriage. This also cements her relationship with Monica, the sort of female friend Tim did not want her to make for fear he might be the subject of their gossip.
“Before she finished emptying the Bancroft house, Evvie had invited Tim's mom, Lila, to have a look around and see if there is anything that she like to take as a keepsake. Lila wandered around the house, and Evvie knew she was staring at all the places Tim had stood, sat, or held court about medicine. Whatever else he had been, Tim had been hers. ‘Sometimes I still can't believe it,’ Lila said. ‘It's so sad.’
Evvie didn't even know which sad thing she meant. So much was sad. Everything was sad here. Sadness lived in the walls like a poltergeist, and it was time to run. […] It felt like dropping a gift into her [Lila’s] pocket, passing a talisman to someone for whom it could do some good. It was just giving Lila back Tim's death to grieve as she would, like she’d given his shirts to Goodwill. And like she finally made a fire in the fireplace and burned her box of receipts and ticket stubs and his flashcards from college.”
After a series of waking moments and powerful emotions, Evvie takes physical steps to let go of her marriage and the negativity associated with it. Key among those steps was selling the oversized house Tim decided to buy. Giving the opportunity to Tim’s mother to go through the house and relive his presence is another recovery step for Evvie. A third comes when she burns the final reminders of her life with Tim.
“‘Dean, I didn't want you to be able to pitch because it would mean you were enough.’ They looked at each other. ‘I wanted you to be able to pitch because it would mean that I was enough.’
When Dean comes to Evvie’s new home, symbolic of the new life she is building for herself, for the first time she frankly acknowledges her motives behind pushing Dean to resume pitching. Holmes implies that Evvie’s new ability to admit her true intentions and her willingness to describe herself as “broken” is a major step toward healing. Dean acknowledges he is a similar point, emotionally.
“I've always found the yips, which can affect people in a lot of different sports, to be so awful and scary that they're very compelling dramatically. I also think, as a writer, that it's easy to relate to this as the worst fear: you'll wake up one day and just not be able to do the thing you do anymore. Both with pitching and with writing, there's something a little bit mysterious about talent, and any talent that you feel like you have can seem fragile.”
Holmes responds here to a question about Dean’s condition, the “yips.” For no apparent reason, athletes sometimes find they are permanently unable to perform at their previous high levels. Believing this to be a mental rather than physical condition, she extrapolates from the athlete’s dilemma, positing that anyone with talent in any given area might also experience the sudden loss of ability.