Introduction

With America's entrance into the Second World War, the town of Blackberry Springs, Alabama, has exploded virtually overnight. Workers from all over are coming south for jobs in Uncle Sam's munitions plants--and they're bringing their pasts with them, right into Dolly Chandler's grand but fading family home turned boardinghouse.

An estranged young couple from the Midwest, unemployed professors from Chicago, a widower from Mississippi, a shattered young veteran struggling to heal from the war--they're all hoping Dolly's house will help them find their way back to the lives they left behind. But the house has a past of its own.

When tragedy strikes, Dolly's only hope will be the circle of friends under her roof and their ability to discover the truth about what happened to a young bride who lived there a century before.

Award-winning and bestselling author Valerie Fraser Luesse breathes life into a cast of unforgettable characters in this complex and compassionate story of hurt and healing.

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Excerpt

The Arrival

April 3, 1944

Dear Violet,

How’s everything over in Georgia? I bet you thought

you’d never hear from your big sister again! What with getting the lake ready to open and looking after all my boarders, I’m about half crazy. I told Si that if I don’t soon get a

minute to prop my feet up and catch my breath, he might

as well run on down to Trimble’s and pick me out a casket.

Did I tell you they’ve gone to selling caskets upstairs

at the mercantile? They’ve got big yellow name tags you

can tie on the handle once you make your selection. Then

you just pay at the register, and that sweet little Gilbert

boy that stocks the shelves will haul your purchase to the

funeral parlor on a flatbed truck. It’s so much more convenient than driving all the way to Childersburg when a

loved one passes, but it’s a little spooky to shop for your

dry goods, knowing what’s overhead. And anytime you

cross the river bridge, you’re likely to meet a casket bound

for the funeral home. How about that? Before we can cross

Jordan, we’ve got to cross the Coosa.

I have to tell you, sister, I’ve been sorely missing somebody to talk to since you and Wiley moved away to Georgia. I’ve got people all around me from morning till night,

but now and again you just want to have a conversation

with somebody that doesn’t need you to fry something,

iron something, or mop something up. You got anybody

to talk to over in Georgia?

Back to my boarders. Granddaddy Talmadge must be

rolling over in his grave. I can hear him now: “Yankee

carpetbaggers!” I’m a little ashamed of myself for renting

to them, what with his Confederate uniform still hanging in the attic, but we sorely need the money. They say

this Depression’s near about over, but I reckon somebody

forgot to tell Alabama.

My boarders seem to come and go in cycles. The ones

that rented from me at the beginning of the war have all

left, and I just filled up with new people. We rented the

last of the upstairs rooms a couple of weeks ago, one to

a perfectly horrible couple—the Clanahans from Reno,

Nevada—and one to a young husband and wife from Illinois, name of Williams. I did NOT show those Reno people

our old room—just put them in that drafty back bedroom

and saved ours for Mr. and Mrs. Williams when they get

here, which ought to be any day now. Something tells me

they need it. (Little Mama’s house is talking to me again!)

I’m babbling on and on about nothing, but I sat down

here with a purpose, Violet. What with all the comings and

goings at home, I’ve decided a thing or two. I think God gives

us soul mates—not many but enough to get us through. And

I’m not just talking about husbands and wives. I’m talking

about those one or two people we meet on life’s journey

who see straight through all our nonsense and love us one

hundred percent, no matter what. You’re my soul mate,

sweet sister. And I never fully appreciated that till now.

Well, I’d best go before I have to reach for that pretty

handkerchief you embroidered for me. Some days I hold

to it like a lifeline. Hope y’all are still coming for the

Fourth. It wouldn’t be a fish fry without my Violet.

Kiss the young’uns for me and give Wiley a hug.

Your loving sister,

Dolly view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

Have you ever been to a place—maybe an old house or garden—that seemed to have a presence like Dolly's house? What made it feel "alive"?

What do you think modern generations can learn from the 1940s, when ordinary people were called on to make daily sacrifices?

Reed and Daisy make a distinction between having faith and attending church. Have you ever experienced a time when you needed to find communion with God outside the church?

Why do you think Dolly doesn't tell Anna and Daisy about her child?

The author has described the characters in this novel as "seekers." What do you think that means? Can you give an example of one character that, for you, epitomizes a seeker?

Which character to you relate to the most?

Which one is most appealing to you?

Why does Reed feel so lost at Oleander Springs—specifically, what is it about the people there that disturbs him?

How are women's friendships different from those of men?

The author has said that she considers Daisy the main character in the book. Does that surprise you?

Why do you think none of the story is told from Daisy's point of view?

Describe the best friend you ever had.

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