“A lucidly described coming-of-age tale” about a young boy and three teenage sisters who have “a mysterious, almost mythic feminine glamour.” —Kirkus Reviews
"Linda Mahkovec discusses the importance of family, friends, hope, and love, in happy and difficult times. I would highly recommend this thought-provoking and memorable story for other readers!" —Linda's Book Obsession Blog
In this coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, a lonely boy finds acceptance when he spends the summer with a loving family with three beautiful daughters.
Twelve-year-old Joey Roland is sent away to family friends while his parents try to work things out. He’s eager to leave sadness and secrets behind in Chicago and head downstate to the small town of Greenberry, where the Vitale family awaits him. He thinks of their town as boyland—a world of bike riding, fishing, and going barefoot. Though initially shy of the teenaged daughters—Anne, Vita, and Beth—they welcome him into their lives of adventure, beauty, and dreams.
Joey especially bonds with the middle sister, Vita, and her all-or-nothing pursuit of an acting career. Joey's “there must be more” merges with Vita’s “I must make it happen” resulting in a magical summer where the town of Greenbury becomes the crucible for two desperate dreamers.
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Author Bio:
Linda Mahkovec is the author of the Christmastime series, set predominantly in New York City during the World War II years. She also has two collections of short stories, The Dreams of Youth and Seven Tales of Love, and a contemporary novel set in Seattle, The Garden House.
Themes of love, family, and home dominate her stories, and though they may be set against the backdrop of war or deal with the disappointments in life, the overarching feel is uplifting and hopeful. Threads that run through her work are the search for beauty and meaning, and the artistic female character—whether she is a painter, a gardener, or simply someone who lives creatively and seeks connection.
Mahkovec was born and raised in a small town in Illinois. She then spent several years in the San Francisco Bay area and Seattle, and for the past thirty years has lived in New York City. She has a PhD in English, specializing in Victorian literature. She has previously published as Agnes Irene.
Book Excerpt:
Prologue
Stage lights, glittering chandeliers, ornate balconies. Crimson brocade curtains and period costumes, a deafening applause. All the stuff of magic and dreams she had so loved.
Joseph’s eyes burned with pride as he watched his old friend and mentor, Vita Vitale, standing center stage bathed in adulation from the audience. Luminous. That was the word that kept coming to his mind. Tall and graceful, the stage lights casting a golden halo around her long auburn hair. She was as beautiful as ever. No. More so. She owned it now. When he knew her, she didn’t know who she was, what she had. She was just a bundle of adolescent yearnings with vague visions of her future.
“Vita!” “Brava!” “Vita!”
All around him the audience cheered her—Vita, Vicky, Victoria, Vi. The girl with all the names. Joseph rose to his feet with the others and continued to applaud. He smiled down at his wife, happy that she was finally encountering one of those three magical sisters he had told her about—Anne, Vita, and Beth. His work had taken him to the far-flung parts of the world, and he had lost touch with the family that had helped to shape him.
Now the gap of almost twenty years had, in an instant, closed on this New York City Broadway stage. And he saw that Vita had kept her promise.
There had been updates from his mother over the years, news that Vita had met with some success. But it wasn’t until recently, now that he was back in the States, that he understood just how successful Vita had become. An unexpected trip to New York City had him reaching out to all his contacts to help get tickets for the final night of her performance.
And now, there she was, the star of a play that had been written for her. He realized with a jolt how appropriate this role was, a play that reminded him of The Tempest. From high above—cliff tops, a tower, a balcony—she wielded her power. Vita—the girl who had been afraid of heights. The brave girl who had sought out the high places in her small, flat Midwestern town in order to conquer her fears.
The curtain briefly closed, and then reopened for another round of applause. The cast linked hands and took another bow. Calls of “Brava!” and “Vita!” continued from the crowd, flowers falling about her feet. Vita took a step forward, gathered up a large bouquet into her arms, and graciously swept a low bow. She placed one hand on her heart and let her eyes travel over the audience, as if thanking each person individually.
Joseph looked about him. They loved her. Wanted more of her. She had made them feel the weight of sorrow, the desperate longing for love, and the ultimate transformation—triumph after despair. They were grateful that she had confirmed hope and love, after loss and hopelessness. She had made them believe in themselves and in the magnificent beauty of life. They didn’t want this moment to end and clapped harder in hopes of prolonging the affirmation.
The crimson curtains slowly closed, and the brightness of the house lights increased. The audience became aware of themselves now, self-conscious of their clapping, of the awkward smiles that passed between people, of the desire to linger in the afterglow of the performance.
After several minutes, the applause lessened, and eyes left the stage. The closed curtains in the bright lights no longer held the universal and the wondrous. The show was over, the magic dispelled. The lights revealed the disarray of people gathering their coats and playbills, exiting the rows, commenting amongst themselves.
Joseph put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and kissed her hair. He saw other couples with arms linked, friends placing a gentle hand on an arm or shoulder, “after you” gestures allowing others to exit the rows—he laughed at himself. Was there really such kindness and gentleness? Or was he once again seeing her world vision?
“We must hurry if we want to catch her,” his wife said, pulling Joseph into the aisle.
They wove their way through the lobby and, once outside, fell in with the line of eager fans. As they waited, the crowd grew larger.
They stood close together in the crisp autumn night, trying to maintain their position by the police barricade that separated the star-struck crowd from the path Vita would take to sign playbills and smile for photographs. Across the street, Joseph saw a similar crowd burst into cheers as the star of that show greeted his fans.
Joseph’s eyes filled with worry. Perhaps she wouldn’t come. She should have been outside by now. When would he have another chance to see her—
His wife drew a sharp breath. “Here she c
