Leda never read an important book, she never became a writer, she never became ‘linear’. But she did become a happy wife, a loving mother and she made her own choices. What I most liked about this book was the honesty - and I enjoyed Leda's dry, witty comments too. It's a melancholy tale, and now and then irritating, just as life itself can be.
'Have you ever had the Cobb salad here? It's so good.'
Leda looked down at the silverware she had prematurely unwrapped from her napkin before Elle arrived. She had attempted to put the fork and knife back into the napkin, but it looked too messy so she just separated them
'We'll have to order it . . . unless you were thinking something else?'
Leda was planning on ordering the grilled cheese and tomato with French fries. Salad for lunch was a distant notion she associated with mortgages and weddings. Elle ate salad now. Last week they'd had lunch, and she ordered some kind of steak dish with cheese melted on it.
'No, I'd love to try it!' Leda said. She was not about to eat fried food in front of paper Elle.