By Barbara Delinsky
In her luminous new novel, Barbara Delinsky explores each woman’s wish to abandon the unending duties of labor and marriage—and the concept that the main passionate romance are available with the individual you recognize most sensible. Emily Aulenbach is thirty, a attorney married to a legal professional, operating in long island. An idealist, she had as soon as dreamed of representing sufferers of company abuse, yet she spends her days in a cubicle speaking at the telephone with victims of tainted bottled water—and she is at the bottler’s part. And it isn’t in simple terms paintings. It’s her sister, her buddies, even her husband, Tim, with whom she doesn’t attach the way in which she used to. She doesn’t connect with a lot in her existence, interval, apart from 3 things—her laptop, her BlackBerry, and her watch. performing on impulse, Emily leaves paintings early at some point, is going domestic, packs her bag, and takes to the air. Groping towards the long run, uncharacteristically following her intestine instead of her brain, she heads north towards a brand new Hampshire city tucked among mountains. She understands this city. in the course of her university years, she spent a watershed summer season right here. Painful because it is to come, she understands that if she is to correct her lifestyles, she has to begin right here.
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Extra resources for Escape
I couldn’t process this now. Tucking the letter in my back pocket, I called the garage where we kept our car. I would be there in five minutes, I said, and yes, I would like the tank filled with gas, put the charge on our tab, please. That was poetic. Another poetic thought? If I had kids, I wouldn’t have been able to do this. No way could I leave kids. But then, if I was a mom, I wouldn’t want to leave. So maybe it was good I hadn’t conceived. Maybe there was a reason. Shouldering the bag, I was halfway out the door when I had a last thought.
I didn’t even want my BlackBerry, but it was my phone, which, in an emergency, was a good thing to have. Makeup? I didn’t want it, but didn’t have the courage to leave it at home. That said, I didn’t need purple eye shadow, navy liner, or two spare blushers. Leaving these on the bathroom counter, I put the makeup case on top of the pile. It was a big pile. No way would everything fit in my bag. I thought of taking a second one, but vetoed the idea. A second bag meant clutter. If I was running away from a tangled life, simplicity was key.
Only when I lifted the closed bag did I notice the unmade bed beneath—beige sheets rumpled on a black platform bed, all sleek and minimalistic, like the rest of the place. The bed went unmade often, a concession to the rush of our lives, but I made it now as a small gesture to James. Quickly done, I ran down a flight to our beige-and-black front hall, dropped my bag there, ran down another flight to our beige-and-black kitchen. Grabbing granola bars (colorfully wrapped) and bottled water (not Eagle River), I ran back up to the front door.