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256 pages, Hardcover
First published September 24, 2019
Raymie Nightingale is about the saving grace of friendship. Louisiana’s Way Home is about deciding who you are. And Beverly, Right Here is about acting on that knowledge of who you are. They are all stories of becoming, I think. And all three of these books are about the power of community - the grace of someone opening a door and welcoming you in, and maybe most of all, having the courage to walk through that door once it’s open.I get a little misty eyed even thinking about it. Anyway, without further ado …
She had run away from home plenty of times, but that was when she was just a kid.Grieving the loss of her dog but determined not to cry, Beverly winds up at Seahorse Court. There she meets Iola Jenkins, an elderly lady who lives in a pink trailer with His Majesty, King Nod, an overweight grey cat.
It wasn’t running away this time, she figured. It was leaving.
She had left.
In a crooked little house by a crooked little sea.Pretty soon Beverly, who doesn’t like fish, is working in a seafood restaurant and eating tuna melts regularly. This child who believes she belongs to no one becomes important to some new friends and despite her best efforts not to let anyone into her heart, they find a way.
Instead, she went down to the beach. She stood and stared at the big indifferent ocean. It sparkled as if nothing at all were wrong. The sand was hot. The sky was a merciless blue - not a lapis lazuli blue, not an angel-wing blue, but the washed-out, giving-up blue of the end of things, the blue of August in Florida.I think Elmer steals the show. This is Beverly’s book - but it’s Elmer, who is steady and open and present, who facilitates that. The way his story is told - the way Elmer tells it, in bits and pieces; the way Beverly listens and responds, piecemeal as well, to the extent she can - they break my heart.
“It will always have the crease, I suppose,” said Iola. “But it’s yours, and you should keep it, honey.”Ain’t that the truth.