Family is a tricky beast. From sharing meals and celebrating together to door slamming and fights that never quite die, every family has it’s own unique dynamics. Today author Angela Hunt introduces us to the three family members who come together in her new mainstream inspirational novel, The Fine Art of Insincerity, which is a May RT Top Pick!
Hello! I was delighted when I learned that my new novel, The Fine Art of Insincerity, was an RT Top Pick, and even more delighted to be asked to do a guest blog for RT readers. But instead of doing the usual thing and telling you about how my novel is the story of three adult sisters who gather at their late grandma’s house to clean it out for a pending sale, I thought I’d let the sisters themselves tell you about what they hope to take away from their grandmother’s beach house. Ginger is the eldest, and as usual, she’s waiting at the head of the line.
Hello, I’m Ginger, I live with my husband Michael in Savannah, and as usual the task of getting Grandmom’s house ready to sell fell upon me. Why do we firstborns always end up bearing most of the family responsibilities? Anyway, it took some coaxing to get my sisters to agree to meet me on St. Simons Island this coming weekend, but I keep assuring them that we might have fun. After all, it’s been a long time since just the three of us were alone together.
The item I’d like to take from Grandmom’s house? No doubt about it—I want her six-legged Steinway square piano. Our grandmother had an antique instrument that rattled like a tin can, but I think I can get it restored. The sound may not ever be what we’re used to today, but I’ll be able to look at it and remember how Grandmom used to sing hymns after Sunday dinner while Miss Josie tickled the ivories. (Miss Josie would play for hours if you plied her with fried chicken, collard greens, and fried apple pies. She wasn’t the best pianist, but she could sure bang out a song. Grandmom always said Josie went to music school and graduated Magna cum Louder.) So that’s what I’m hoping to get—the piano.
Obviously, I’m Penny, and going to St. Simons to clean house is the last thing I wanted to do on a holiday weekend. You see, I met this handsome doctor at lunch the other day, and he asked if I wanted to go to a football game. Yes, my conscience did whisper a warning in my ear, but I’ve already decided that my once-promising marriage is as dead as disco. All I have to do is tell my husband that It’s Over, and I’ll be free to follow up on this promising lead.
Oh! About Grandma’s house—I don’t really care what I take, as long as it’s highly pawnable. With another divorce looming on the horizon, I’m going to need money, so I’ll take anything that promises a good return at the Dash In, Cash Out Pawn Shop.
I have mixed feelings about this coming weekend. I would like to spend a few last hours with my sisters, mainly because I want to tell them goodbye. I won’t tell them that I don’t plan to ever see them again—that would result in far too much drama, and our family seems to be genetically adverse to unseemly emotional expression. We tend to hide our issues behind polite smiles, gentle inquiries, and the delicious chess pies we bring to family reunions.
So I want to see my sisters, though it means I’ll have to say goodbye to my husband, Wort, a few days earlier than I’d planned. But that’s okay. When you have failed at the only thing you ever wanted to accomplish in life, it’s time to withdraw.
As Grandma always said, “Drive carefully. Life has no spare.”
I’m counting on it.
For more about what happens to Ginger, Pennyroyal and Rosemary you can find their complete adventure in Angela Hunt's The Fine Art of Insincerity, which will be released this month.