Apples Never Fall

by Liane Moriarty

Not exciting at all, infuriating, but as her grandfather used to say, “Never spoil a good story with the facts.”

You put up with little things … and then the little things gradually get bigger.

Now Logan competed against Troy by not competing, which was fucking genius. You couldn’t win if only one of you was playing.

The risk of upsetting Stan outweighed the risk of upsetting Amy. The risk of upsetting Stan had always outweighed the risk of upsetting any of the children.

but her dreams didn’t have the same ferocious entitlement as Stan’s, because she was a woman, and women know that babies and husbands and sick parents can derail your dreams, at any moment they can drag you from your bed, they can forestall your career, they can lift you from your prized seat at Wimbledon from a match later described as “epic.”

How could the reality of grief be worse than her imagining of it, when she had imagined it so very, very hard?

How did people cope with ordinary, predictable tragedy? It was impossible, insurmountable …

Her mother specialized in the tiny razor-sharp dig wrapped in a soft compliment, so you didn’t notice the blood until afterward.

Once you’ve hit a ball there’s no point watching to see where it’s going. You can’t change its flight path now. You have to think about your next move. Not what you should have done. What you do now.

She made the right choice for the girl she was then.