2.5 In her author's note at the end of the book, author Victoria Christopher Murray writes that the novel's roots lie in the real-life post-9/11 phenomenon of firefighters leaving their wives for the widows of their friends who had been killed during the the horrific events of that day. What Murray writes, though, is the story of two best woman friends whose relationship falls apart after one's husband dies in a fire at a school and who then ends up in an affair with her friend's husband out of shared grief. Complicating matters is the fact that the cheated-on friend is white, while the widow and both husbands are black.
Murray's writing style is straightforward, with alternating chapters from each of the two women's POV. Her characters are flat, without distinct personalities. They have backstories, but those backstories seem not to influence their present action very much (for example, one character's childhood sexual abuse is mentioned in one brief sentence, then never referred to again). The lack of distinct personality allows the characters serve as placeholders for the reader, allowing the reader to imagine herself in each woman's position. This seems to be Murray's purpose, as the opening and closing chapters, written from the widow's POV, addresses readers directly, asking them not to judge, asking if they would have done the same thing that Miriam, the widow, had done.
SPOILERS:
The plot struck me as predictable, and overly determined; actions stem not from character, but from plot needs. All the plot events inevitably lead Miriam and Jamal into each other's arms, particularly psychologist Emily's need to always be away from her husband in order to help the grieving children affected by the fire. The narrative is clear, though, that the cheating is NOT Emily's fault, which I appreciated. Although for a psychologist, she seemed utterly unsympathetic to her friend and her husband's actions, unable to think about it in terms of psychological processes.
I'm certainly not the audience for the book's inspirational/religious messages, either. Emily wants to dump Jamal after the affair comes to light (through plot contrivance, of course): "I will never be one of those women who allows herself to be walked over by a man" (315), she declares, as if her unwillingness to attempt to understand the pain that led her husband to turn to Miriam is a feminist move rather than an immature turning away from pain. Through the intervention of her pastor, she eventually comes to grieve her own loss, and accepts Jamal back. Miriam and her children move away, banished from the scene of the crime, while Jamal gets to remain, implying that we should forgive straying husbands but not straying friends: not a message I appreciated.