The View from Here

A Novel

Hannah McKinnon

• Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781982114503
• eBook ISBN: 9781982114527
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Women in Fiction
• Index: Literature

From the acclaimed author of Sailing Lessons and Mystic Summer —a "charming gem of a novel" (Elin Hilderbrand, #1 New York Times bestselling author)—an evocative and moving tale about what it means to be a family, set over the course of one unforgettable Connecticut summer. Siblings Perry, Jake, and Phoebe Goodwin were raised on the shore of a beautiful Connecticut lake in a close-knit family. The eldest of the family, forty-two-year-old Perry has long craved order as surely as his charismatic younger brother, Jake, has avoided it. Phoebe, their baby sister, courts both. As adults, the Goodwin siblings could not be more different. Perry is as married to his career in New York as a risk analyst as Phoebe is to her college sweetheart, but both have returned to Connecticut to raise their young families. Charismatic Jake, however, has spent his years living away wanderlust and unable to settle. The three have not spent much time together…until this summer. On the afternoon of their grandmother's ninety-seventh birthday party, the siblings reunite at the lake house where Jake stuns the family with a stranger on his arm and an announcement. Olivia Cossette, daughter of a French chef, does not share the traditional Goodwin New England upbringing or sense of family. What she does share is parenthood, as the single mother of a little girl who does not speak. While the Goodwin family struggle to welcome the newcomers over the course of the summer, a series of bad choices made by each family member finally unravels, leaving them all to question just what truly makes a family. Can one fateful moment on a July afternoon undo a lifetime of good intentions? Only one thing is for certain—this extraordinary summer has irrevocably changed the Goodwin family and all that remains is the uncertain future. With Hannah McKinnon's signature "enticing and refreshing" (Nancy Thayer, New York Times bestselling author) prose, this is a warm-hearted novel that is perfect for fans of Mary Alice Monroe's the Beach House series and the works of Elin Hilderbrand.

Perry

Perry Goodwin rang his parents’ doorbell and inspected the high polish on his shoes. It was his grandmother Elsie’s ninety-seventh birthday, and in lieu of putting her in a nursing home they were throwing her a party.

Already he could hear the thrum of voices inside. But no one came to the door.

Perry did not like crowds. He most certainly did not like parties. He barely liked his family, if he were to be honest. They were just so… unshakably themselves. But he adored his grandmother Elsie. And the rest of them needed him, so here he was. He checked his watch. “Be on time!” his mother, Jane, had said in her falsetto hosting voice when she’d called. Which was almost an offense, really, because Perry was never late. Take now, for instance. He was still three minutes early, and yet his punctuality would go unnoticed because no one was there to let him in.

If his wife, Amelia, had been with him, she would’ve already pushed the door open. Amelia was like that. But she was not here, and so Perry rang the bell again and waited. Finally, the door swung open.

“What are you doing standing out here like a stray?” His younger sister, Phoebe, grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside. “You were supposed to rescue me. Everyone’s here.”

“Not everyone,” he said, removing his coat. “Amelia is picking up Emma at school. And besides, the party just started.” Phoebe could be so dramatic.

But she was not listening. She was suddenly distracted by her reflection in the hall mirror and had begun raking her hands through her hair in some attempt to change it. “So, did you hear about Jake’s new girl?”

Perry glanced across the marble foyer at the ripple of gray-haired guests overflowing from the living room. It figured. The elderly were always early. He scoured the crowd, hoping that his parents’ neighbor Eugene Banks was not in attendance. Mr. Banks had the distasteful practice of cornering Perry at family parties, clapping him loudly on the back and asking him how much he’d earned in the past year as a car insurance agent. Perry was a risk analyst for one of New York’s premier entertainment firms. He did not insure cars. He most certainly did not discuss personal finances.

Phoebe gave up on her hair and spun around. “We finally get to lay eyes on her. She’s coming to the party!”

Perry followed the brisk swish of his sister’s yellow skirt into the crowded living room. “Who’s coming?”

Phoebe glared at him over her shoulder. “I just told you. Jake’s new girl.”

Perry was about to ask if this new girl of their younger brother’s had a name, but he was suddenly clapped on the back. “Perry!” He cringed. Thankfully, it was only his father, Edward, his eyes glimmering with pleasure. “Good to see you, son.”

Perry let himself be pulled into a hug. If overly demonstrative, his father was the most reasonable member of the family. “Looks like quite a party. How’s Nana doing?”

Edward indicated across the room where Elsie was neatly folded into a damask wingback by the window. “Holding court.”

Indeed, his grandmother looked pleased. Her eyes traveled about the room locking every now and then on her twin great-grandsons, Jed and Patrick, who galloped through the sea of trouser pants and skirts with confections in hand.

Spying Perry, they headed straight for him, pushing and shoving to get to their uncle first. Phoebe’s sons were a handful, but Perry adored them. “Who got into the sweets already?” he asked, as Jed leapt up to be held. Perry held him a safe distance away from his white dress shirt and inspected the boy’s chocolate-dotted lips. The four-year-old still clutched a half-eaten cookie, and once ensconced in the safety of his uncle’s arms he leaned down and swiped at his brother’s hair with his free hand. Below, Patrick yelped. “Grandma said we could.”

Edward shook his head. “Of course she did. Now come with me, I think we should wash those hands.” Perry set Jed down and watched him and his brother reluctantly trail their grandfather to the bathroom. Meanwhile their parents were on the opposite side of the room chatting and laughing with guests, champagne in hand, completely checked out. Why not, when everyone else in the family could watch your kids?

Perry helped himself to a cup of punch and made his way through the crowd to Elsie. “Happy birthday, Nana.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Oh, Perry my love,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “Look how handsome.”

As eldest, Perry had always felt a special bond with his grandmother. He had been the first grandchild, and as such she’d fussed over him. Since his grandfather had passed away last year, she’d come to live with Perry’s parents, a move that both heartened and concerned him. The house was hardly suitable for a ninety-seven-year-old. There were steep stairs and laquered wooden floors. He also worried about the toll on his parents for having to care for Elsie. Just as it pained Perry now to feel the tremor in her fingers as she pressed a hand lovingly to his cheek.

“Are you enjoying your big day?” he asked.

“It’s just another year,” she said. Elsie glanced up at him, her cloudy blue eyes searching his own. Perry felt something inside him shift. Growing old had begun to frighten him.

“Pray tell, where is that bony wife of yours?” his grandmother asked.

Perry was used to this commentary, and yet he still flinched. Amelia was thin, but he liked to think elegantly so. His grandmother did not share that sentiment.

“Now, Nana. Amelia might be hurt if she was here to hear that.”

“But she’s not. That’s the risk of arriving late to a party—you’ll find yourself the topic of conversation.” She shrugged, a mischievous smile fluttering across the soft folds of her face. “What is that you’re drinking, dear?” she gestured to his cup.

“Punch.”

Elsie frowned. “Virgin?”

“I believe so. Would you like some?”

She pursed her lips. “What I’d like is a little bourbon.”

Perry glanced at the bar cart across the room. “I thought your medications weren’t to be mixed with alcohol.”

Elsie pointed in the direction of the cart. “Double finger, dear.”

“But Nana.”

Elsie placed her hand on his own and squeezed. “Perry, my love. You must learn to have some fun. Or at least allow the rest of us.”

Perry sighed. “Be right back.”

Phoebe found him at the bar cart. “We need to talk.”

“In just a minute. Nana insists I get her a bourbon.” He shook his head. “I guess one won’t hurt.”

Phoebe laughed. “One? That’s at least her second. She made Dad fetch her one earlier.”

Perry set the bottle down. “That minx.”

“Relax.” Phoebe took the glass from him and resumed the pour. “How many ninety-seventh birthdays does one get?”

Perry watched her march off in the direction of the birthday girl with the drink in question. “There won’t be a ninety-eighth if she keeps it up,” he called after her.

Amelia and Emma had still not arrived. When he finally made it to the punch bowl, it was empty. He lugged it into the kitchen.

“There you are!” His mother, Jane, stood at the counter scraping something dry and blackened off of a tray and into the farmhouse sink.

“Hello, Mother. What have you there?”

“It was a tray of Brie and apricot tarts.” She shrugged. “But Nana can’t chew very well these days, so it’s not like she could’ve eaten them anyway.”

Perry helped himself to a cup of punch and observed the momentary slump in his mother’s posture. She turned to him, straightening her apron. “So, how are you?”

“Fine.” He held up the punch bowl.

“You think of everything.” She nodded toward the pantry. “Two bottles of seltzer and one of cranberry juice. You didn’t happen to notice if Jake arrived yet, did you? He’s bringing his Olivia.”

Olivia. So the new girl did have a name. Perry glanced out the kitchen window at the circular drive. What could be taking his wife so long?

“She’s a doll, this one. Have you met her?”

He had not. But that was clearly about to change. “Do I have a choice?” It was tiring. Every special occasion, a new girl.

Like the rest of the Goodwin offspring, Jake was sharp and handsome. But unlike his more reserved siblings, he possessed a flirtatious streak that coursed back to their high school years, the likes of which had managed to attract the attention of the cutest girls in Perry’s junior class the first week of Jake’s freshman year. Although Perry aced his AP courses and swept the CIAC track and field championship that year, he’d regrettably remained unable to engage in any meaningful interaction with a member of the opposite sex, and so it was young Jake who’d lobbied (and then landed) his big brother a date two days before prom. “There’s room in our limo,” Jake had added.

Perry had been flummoxed. “You’re going to prom? Wait—you have a limo?”

Little had changed in the years since.

The last Perry had heard, Jake was seeing the multipierced blond rock climber from Colorado he’d met at Burning Man. The one who’d lasted almost the whole of the previous year, leaving the family to wonder in not-so-quiet whispers if this one would stick. But then there was the redheaded accountant, at Christmas. If Perry wasn’t mistaken, she was the one who’d giggled so nervously at the dinner table she snorted spiced eggnog out of her nose. Or maybe that was the blonde.

His mother ignored his question and continued scraping at the burnt tray in the sink. “There’s something about this one. You’ll see.”

Perry found the seltzer bottles in the pantry and emptied them carefully into the bowl, considering his mother’s choice of words. “There’s always something.”

“Oh, and I suppose you heard, I’ve asked your sister and Rob to move in with the kids while their new cottage is being renovated. I fear she’s taken on too much, and they really can’t keep living like that.”

“Is that wise?” Phoebe could be so selfish. It was too much to ask. Let alone of aging parents who already had their hands full with their Nana. He lifted the punch bowl gingerly, measuring the distance between himself and the dining room table where a clutch of women of a certain age hovered in orthopedic shoes, a group his mother referred to as “the biddies.” Mrs. Lorenzo from next door was laughing loudly and gesturing a bit too exuberantly. He and the punch bowl would have to take a different route.

“Well, I can’t exactly send my grandchildren out on the streets.”

“The streets?” Perry had been thinking more along the lines of a hotel. Or better yet, telling Phoebe to grit her teeth and live through her self-imposed house renovation like most people did. After all, it was Phoebe and Rob’s choice to sell their perfectly good house, buy a falling-down shack on the lake, and then tear it apart. It was hardly the cottage’s fault it was a hundred years old. “It might not be as temporary as you think, Mom. Renovations always take longer than planned. And the boys are great, but they’re a real handful. When you combine that with everything going on with Nana…”

There was a sudden clatter. His mother dumped the tray into the sink, and plucked a single cigarette out of her pocket. If she’d pulled out a switchblade, Perry could not have been more surprised.

“Mom?” The punch sloshed dangerously against the sides of the bowl.

Jane Goodwin did not smoke. Had never smoked. His father, Edward, enjoyed the occasional cigar, but Perry had no recollection of ever having seen his mother smoke, even in the haze of the early seventies when just about everyone seemed to. She reached for a high cabinet, ferreted around behind the sugar jar, and produced a lighter.

“Mother. What are you doing?”

Jane blinked. “Oh, please. It’s just one.” Her heels clicked as she headed for the patio door and flung it ajar.

Perry watched in horror as she leaned out, lit up, and inhaled. “When did this start?” he asked. Then, “Do you understand how toxic that is? Your lungs!”

Jane Goodwin was a portrait of health. All his life Perry’s mother had been fit and trim. She played tennis. She ate salad. In a corner of their manicured lawn she tended an organic herb garden.

She took a deep drag and closed her eyes dreamily. “Take the punch out to those biddies. And not a word to your father.”

Perry navigated the small sea of guests precariously. Phoebe swept up beside him, and again he had to steady the bowl. “Watch it.” Then, “Since when does Mom smoke?”

“What? I don’t know. Listen, Rob is going to ask you about joining the Club. I want you to talk it down.”

“My Club?” Had she not just heard wha...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Chapter 1. Perry
• Chapter 2. Phoebe
• Chapter 3. Olivia
• Chapter 4. Emma
• Chapter 5. Perry
• Chapter 6. Phoebe
• Chapter 7. Olivia
• Chapter 8. Phoebe
• Chapter 9. Perry
• Chapter 10. Emma
• Chapter 11. Olivia
• Chapter 12. Phoebe
• Chapter 13. Perry
• Chapter 14. Emma
• Chapter 15. Phoebe
• Chapter 16. Olivia
• Chapter 17. Perry
• Chapter 18. Emma
• Chapter 19. Olivia
• Chapter 20. Phoebe
• Chapter 21. Perry
• Chapter 22. Olivia
• Chapter 23. Emma
• Chapter 24. Perry
• Chapter 25. Phoebe
• Chapter 26. Olivia
• Chapter 27. Perry
• Chapter 28. Phoebe
• Chapter 29. Olivia
• Chapter 30. Emma
• Chapter 31. Perry
• Chapter 32. Phoebe
• Chapter 33. Olivia
• Chapter 34. Emma
• Chapter 35. Perry
• Chapter 36. Phoebe
• Chapter 37. Olivia
• Chapter 38. Emma
• Chapter 39. Perry
• Chapter 40. Phoebe
• Chapter 41. Olivia
• Chapter 42. Emma
• Chapter 43. Phoebe
• Chapter 44. Perry
• Chapter 45. Emma
• Chapter 46. Olivia
• Chapter 47. Phoebe
• Chapter 48. Perry
• Acknowledgments
• ‘Message in the Sand’ Teaser
• About the Author
• Copyright