"The best just keeps getting better - five stars for this gem."
Reviewed by Sandra Wurman
Posted June 7, 2023
Romance | Women's Fiction Contemporary
The title does not do it justice! A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE is a delightful story filled with dialogue and characters created to just make the reader break out in a grin or a giggle. Grand pop is ninety and his age is definite beginning to show and should be slowing him down. But he is surrounded by his family and luckily, they somehow manage to rein him in. When surrounded by lovely flowers and sun, grand pop blurts out how he loves August when it is actually June. Immediately Kristan Higgins sets the stage for a wondrous look at a large inclusive family with some unique characters thrown in for good measure.
Kristan Higgins is a very present literary source of entertainment and enlightenment. For example, when describing a bookstore client's reading material preference as BDSM, well you guessed it, I had to google that one. The ensemble of unforgettable characters jumps off each page with monstrously humorous dialog peppered with human angst. After all what person does not carry with them an arsenal of memories, both good and bad?
Harlow, half-owner of the Open Book bookstore, would like to find Mr. Right, but she immerses herself in her business and her family. Now that she's in her mid-thirties, she has a discriminating eye for choosing a date, much less a mate. Harlow's latest blind date tried to regale her with a poem that spoke of death to his ex. Not exactly husband or date material, but exactly the kind of setup one would expect from the genius and creative mind of this author. And that’s why Kristan Higgins has garnered a very devoted fan base.
With poignant moments among the humor, A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE has the ability to make you breathless. Life brings with it a collection of events. Some fleeting, some earth-shattering. This is one book you will not want to put down.
Reviews are supposed to be brief glimpses into the plot and leave the joy of exploration to the reader. Suffice it to say A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE just may be the best yet and that is saying a lot. Fans of Kristan Higgins expect perfection. And this book is filled to the rafters with flawed funny human characters that will make you sigh and smile. Each chapter is written from a character's perspective. Grand pop is the master of small talk, everyone should have a friend like Rosie, and Harlow is the star.
Be prepared to lose yourself for many joyous hours in the newest novel by one of the best authors in the business today. Add to that the poignancy of lives affected by the same event in quite different ways. Life is not stagnant, and in A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE, that is the big tell. It is hard to tell just which character best fills the role of the title. The assumption is of course Harlow since she is the big sister, first born, and delight of her grandparents but you will begin to wonder if indeed that is the case. It is no wonder why Kristan Higgins has such devoted fans. After reading A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE you will certainly join the ranks.
SUMMARY
A kid walks into your bookstore and… Guess what?
He’s your son. The one you put up for adoption
eighteen years ago. The one you never told anyone about.
Surprise!
And a huge surprise it
is.
It’s a huge surprise to his
adoptive mother, Monica, who thought she had a close
relationship with Matthew, her nearly adult son. But
apparently, he felt the need to secretly arrange a vacation
to Cape Cod for the summer so he could meet his birth
mother…without a word to either her or his dad.
It’s also a surprise— to say the
least—to Harlow, the woman who secretly placed her
baby for adoption so many years ago. She’s spent the
years since then building a quiet life. She runs a bookstore
with her grandfather, hangs out with her four younger
siblings and is more or less happily single, though she
can’t help gravitating toward Grady Byrne, her old
friend from high school. He’s moved back to town,
three-year-old daughter in tow, no wife in the picture. But
she’s always figured her life had to be child-free, so
that complicates things.
When Matthew walks
into Harlow’s store, she faints. Monica panics. And
all their assumptions—about what being a parent really
means—explode. This summer will be full of more
surprises as both their families are redefined…and as
both women learn that for them, there’s no limit to a
mother’s love.
ExcerptThat evening, six members of the Smith family pulled into
the parking lot of Truro Vineyards in five different
vehicles. Grandpop and me in my car, Robbie, Lark and
our cousin Cynthia in her aging BMW, a gift from her
ex-husband. She saw us and frowned.
“What’s Dolores Umbridge doing here?”
Robbie muttered to me.
“Cynthia, my dear!” said Grandpop.
“Aren’t you pretty!”
“Is Grandpop going blind?” Robbie whispered.
By now we were standing in a group in the parking
lot.
“First rule,” Winnie said, “no one asks
Harlow a single question about her kid. Second rule, you all
charm the pants off everyone you talk to. You too, Cynthia.
I need your demographic. Third, Robbie, flirt with everyone.
I’m low on straight males.”
“I’d say no, but you scare the poop out of
me.”
“I’ll be your wingman, Robbie,”
Grandpop said. “Do people still use that term?”
“They do,” Robbie said. “I’ll be
yours, too, Pop.
We walked across the grass, herded by Winnie, to a white
tent. Truro Vineyards, just down Route 6 from Wellfleet, was
idyllic with rolling fields and lush grounds. Since summer
wasn’t in full swing yet, it wasn’t as mobbed as
it usually was.
Weird, that I was having all these normal thoughts when
my whole heart throbbed at the thought of seeing my son
again. He wanted to get to know me. It made me euphoric and
terrified at the same time. The last time I’d seen him
was the day he was born…Oh, God. Remembering that day
in any sort of detail would just about kill me.
A sign in front of the tent said, “Welcome, Cape
Cod Singles!” in case we didn’t feel
uncomfortable enough. There were about twenty people here,
not counting the Smiths—Reverend White from the
Congregational church (reputedly a bit of a man-whore, but
judge not, of course). Lucy Greene, who worked at Blue
Willow Bakery (I’d marry her just for her cranberry
orange muffins). Louisa from Chequessett Chocolates, which I
sold at Open Book.
“Hey,” said a voice.
I turned. “Grady! Hey. What are you doing here?
” The penny dropped. “Oh. Right. Sorry.
Are you…um, on the market again? Oh, gosh. Cringey.
Sorry.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “It’s okay,
and yeah. Figured it’s time to start dating
again.”
“Who’s looking after Luna? Your mom and dad,
or your nanny?”
“She’s with the nanny. Probably asleep by
now.”
“Got it.” What time had Matthew gone to bed
when he was four? Had he been a good sleeper?
“You looking to date, Harlow?” Grady asked.
“Me? Oh, God, no,” I said. “I mean, no
judgment, of course…I’m just here because
Winnie summoned me. You know, my life is in a bit of
turmoil. On account of…my son.” God. Those two
words. “I think I’ll be spending some time with
him next week,” I said, hoping it was true.
Grady handed me a napkin, and I wiped my eyes. “You
okay?” he asked.
“Oh, sure. Crying is my resting state since
Tuesday.”
“Okay, people!” Winnie said in her drill
sergeant voice. “Thank you for coming to Outer Cape
Singles Night. We’ll do this speed-dating style, so
take a seat, and those of you lucky people on this
side—” she indicated one side of a long
table— “move one seat over every time the bell
rings. You have five minutes with each person. Everyone can
talk to everyone. It doesn’t have to be a romantic
connection. Maybe you just want a new friend.”
“I do not,” Robbie said at the same time
Grandpop said, “What a wonderful
thought!”
He plunked himself down on the “stay
put” side of the table across from a very cute thirty-
something guy with lots of gel in his hair and very long
eyelashes. I was across from an attractive woman with short
gray hair and many tattoos on her sculpted arms.
“Five minutes starting now!” Winnie said.
“I’m Kate,” my person said. “You
smell amazing. Jo Malone?”
“Um…no. Deep Woods Off.” I laughed.
She did, too. “Listen, Kate, I’m not actually
looking for someone. I’m here with my grandfather.
Also, I’m straight. Sorry.”
“Oh,” she said. “Super.” She
leaned back in her chair and waved to a waiter, who was
carrying a tray of wine-filled glasses.
“Hello!” said my grandfather to the young
man. “I’ll go first. I’m looking for
someone to take care of me in my dotage. Not quite there
yet, though!”
“Cool!” said the young man. “I’m
Drummer. Are you wealthy?”
“Okay,” said I, leaning against Grandpop so
Drummer would know my grandfather was chaperoned. “At
least you’re direct. I’m his granddaughter and
wingman. There will be no sugar daddy situations
here.”
“You’re a drummer!” exclaimed Grandpop.
“How wonderful!”
“No, he said, “my name is Drummer, and
I’m not at all against having a sugar daddy.”
“What did I just say, Drummer?” I asked,
rapping my knuckles on the table.
“Do you play other instruments?” Grandpop
asked.
“Nope. My name, not my gig.”
“I see. Do you have any experience in nursing,
sponge baths or cooking soft food?” Grandpop asked.
“I could learn, I guess,” Drummer said.
“I have, like, mad respect for the greatest
generation? World War II heroes, saving the world, am I
right?”
“He’s just a bit younger than that,” I
said, “but he did serve in Korea.”
“We had a war with Korea?” Drummer asked.
“Oh, you’re joking. I get it. Do you like K-pop,
sir?”
„God, this generation is stupid,“ Kate said.
“We certainly did have a war with Korea,
young man!” said Grandpop. “Now, listen, Cymbal.
I’ve never been with anyone but my wife, God rest her
soul. Not sure I can even function in that respect anymore,
no offense to yourself. You’re a very handsome
boy—”
“Next!” Winnie yelled
A gorgeous, dark-haired woman around forty slide into the
chair across from Grandpop. “Hello, papi,” she
said with a slight Latin accent, grinning.
“Well, aren’t you lovely! Do you
like old men?”
“Let’s find out,” she said. Oh, yeah.
Grandpop would have a great time with her. Across from me
was Grady. “Hey, there,” I said with a smile.
“Hi.” He smiled back, just a little, his
green eyes creasing attractively. I could hardly see the
skinny boy who’d been my friend all those years ago,
because the man in front of me was…well, manly. Tall.
Wicked nice shoulders.
“I’ll be your guinea pig,” I said,
clearing my throat. “What qualities are you looking
for in a partner, Gray?”
He gave a nod, eyes down, a little smile. “Kindness
would be the first. Intelligence. Someone who loves kids, as
I have a four-year-old daughter.”
“Well, that rules me out,” I said.
“I’m terrified of children.”
“No, you’re not,” he said.
“I’m terrified of most children,” I
corrected. “Your child is quite nice. Anyway, what are
your hobbies, kind sir?”
“I like trivia nights,” he said, smiling
again.
“Have you heard of the Kingslayers?” I asked,
naming our team.
“Their reputation is terrifying,” he
answered. “Also, I love being on the water and love
swimming, being out in my boat, snorkeling and scuba
diving.”
“Imagine if you didn’t. It would make your
job much harder.”
Another appealing smile. “I also love doing things
with my daughter.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Reading to her. Going to Story Time with
Grandpop.”
“Fabulous answer. What else?”
“Taking her on hikes, doing art projects. She loves
to be pushed on the swing. We go to the beach every day, and
she picks up shells and rocks, and we put them in a big
glass bowl on the coffee table.”
Is that what it would’ve been like if I’d
kept Matthew? All those wholesome activities the Cape
offered? My eyes were suddenly stinging. Again.
“Next!”
My baby brother plunked down in front of me, and a fifty-
something woman sat across from Grandpop.
“You are so my type,” Robbie said. “I
feel like I already love you.”
“Hello!” Grandpop said. “I’m
Robert J. Smith, Esquire. And you are, my dear?”
“I’m Lisa B. Townsend, M.D.” she said,
smiling.
Grandpop practically gasped at his good luck. “Can
you tell me why my left calf muscle cramps every night at
9:45? Wakes me out of a sound sleep.”
“Pop, you definitely have game,” Robbie said.
The doctor laughed. “Lots of people get those,
especially as we get older.”
“Should I hire a masseuse? I know there’s a
little place in Orleans, but the windows are papered over
with palm tree posters, and I can’t see inside.”
“Those massage therapists are actually sex workers,
Grandpop,” Robbie said.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“No comment.”
“Massage can help, but make sure you get a
certified massage therapist,” said Dr. Lisa.
“Eat lots of fruits and veggies. You can also have a
gin and tonic every night. Quinine, which is in tonic water,
can help a lot.”
“Oh, I like that suggestion very
much!” Grandpop said. “Now. Do you think
you’d like to date me?”
“I’m looking for someone a little closer to
my age, but if I were thirty years older, definitely,”
she said.
“What about this mole on my neck?” Grandpop
asked, pulling his collar down. “It has hair
growing out of it!”
“Next!” called Winnie.
An hour later, we were done. Grandpop had four numbers,
three from age-appropriate women, one from the woman
who’d called him papi. Robbie had sixteen from males
and females alike, Lark had five, I had none, as per my
wishes. I wondered how many Grady had…he was talking
with someone I’d never met before. Good for him.
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