Review by Booklist Review
Katia has spent her entire adult life caring for others, helping to raise her younger twin brothers after the death of their father. Amid the tense racial climate of 1967 Troy, Alabama, she is the director of the Pike County Group Home for Negro Boys, committed to providing her charges the support and structure they need to reach their potential. Unable to have children of her own, Katia's mainly platonic relationship with an older gentleman from church is all the happiness she thinks she deserves. When her brothers are declared missing in Vietnam, the weight of her sorrow becomes nearly unbearable. That's when Seth, her high-school crush, walks back into her life. While she tries to keep him at arm's length, he respectfully persists in offering friendship if that's all she's ready for. Katia slowly learns she can lean on him, especially when one of her more stubborn charges is suddenly in danger. Well-developed characters and vivid emotional descriptions bring depth to this story about the power of family, the slow and painful process of healing, and the importance of learning to love oneself.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Jackson-Brown (The Light Always Breaks) delivers a touching story of a middle-aged Black woman and the burdens she shoulders during the Vietnam War. It's 1967 in Troy, Ala., where Katia Daniels serves as executive director at a group home for boys, doing her best to embody the nurturing mother figure the children need and have come to expect from her. When a medical emergency prompts her to have a hysterectomy, Katia is crushed that she won't be able to have children of her own. She suppresses her anguish, however, because she knows the people she loves depend on her and she does not want to let them down, especially her widowed mother. Katia's world begins to unravel when one of her younger twin brothers returns home from Vietnam and the other is reported missing in action. The news collides with tensions at the group home, as Katia runs afoul of the misogynistic board of directors. There are a few plot holes on the way to a rushed conclusion, but Jackson-Brown ably captures Katia's indomitable spirit and devotion to her family. This is worth a look. Agent: Alice Speilburg, Speilburg Agency. (Dec.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
A Black woman grapples with her personal and professional choices in 1960s Alabama. Katia Daniels hasn't followed the typical path for a Black woman in Troy, Alabama, in 1967. At 40, she's devoted to her job as director of the Pike County Group Home for Negro Boys, where she oversees the care of neglected and abused children with a firm hand and warm heart. She's a caretaker at home, too--since her father's death, she's been the support of her nurturing mother and younger twin brothers. But the closest Katia gets to having a love life is reading romance novels in a bubble bath. She's long been self-conscious about her weight, and a recent emergency hysterectomy has left her feeling that no man will want her if she can't bear children. She has a boring platonic relationship with an older man, Leon, but he's more interested in watching TV with her mother. Then her routine gets blown up. Her brothers, Marcus and Aaron, both serving as Marines in Vietnam, are reported missing in action. At the boys' home, Katia's two newest charges bond with each other and with her: a sweet-natured 9-year-old called Pee Wee and Chad, who looks like a grown man but, at 14, is still a kid, and a badly damaged one. Then her high school crush, Seth Taylor, turns up on her doorstep, as handsome and charming as ever, despite having lost a leg in Vietnam--and much more interested in her than she ever dreamed possible. The novel winds its romance plot around the challenges Katia faces in helping the boys in her care and keeping them safe, as well as dealing with family issues as one brother returns deeply traumatized while the other remains missing. But as dramatic as those elements might seem, the novel rarely works up much suspense or intensity--almost every character is so well-intentioned, supportive, and loving that any moment of tension deflates as soon as it begins. The historical setting is gestured to but not evoked in detail, and the methods and atmosphere of the group home seem improbably contemporary for half a century ago. Warmly drawn but overly idealized characters populate a predictable plot. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
