Since finding her father’s body at the bottom of the basement stairs, Annette’s been drifting through her days, watching cars pass down the rural Ontario crossroads beside her house. Her brothers have no great ambitions, but Annette remembers a time when she did. She just can’t remember what they are.
Then she meets her neighbour, Sadie, a tattooed, world-weary, newly single portrait artist. Something about Sadie awakens something in Annette — the essence she captures in her subjects, perhaps, or the way the old familiar crossroads seem so fresh and promising from the view out Sadie’s window.
Annette begins to help Sadie, cleaning brushes and filing invoices between long lazy afternoons of conversations and shared silences. Soon, though, Annette wants more from her enigmatic neighbor, and their slowly heating friendship melts into passionate nights. Somewhere along the way, Annette discovers that her lover has illuminated for her, as with the people Sadie paints, not just her essence but her own endless worlds of possibilities
I’m not really sure about this. I didn’t disliked it but I can’t say I was very interested in the story either. I got attracted by it because of its beautiful cover, but I ended up wanting so much more from it.
Annette was a nice character, so was Sadie, but I don’t think I really got to know any of them. There wasn’t much of a plot development and, if it was consider a romance, I didn’t think it was very romantic.
What I did liked about it, and I don’t know if this was intentional, was a melancholy feeling all along the book. It was a little slow paced but I think it was appropriate for the general emotion I perceived, maybe related to Annette’s grieving although there wasn’t too much information about her relationship with her father.