Lately, a good deal of attention has been given to women who are in what’s called the “sandwich generation.” These are women who’ve taken on, or been given, the responsibility of caring for their elders even as they still have children to raise. In the case of Lila Kennedy, the protagonist of Jojo Moyes’ We All Live Here, this sandwich is a muffuletta. Everything is in it.
Lila, the British, 40ish writer of a bestselling self-help book, can’t be said to have a bad life, but when we meet her she’s having a series of bad days. Her stepfather, the overly fastidious but devoted Bill, has pretty much moved into her home. Her ex-husband, Dan, has moved out and is now shacking up with his girlfriend, Marja. Lila discovers by accident that Marja is pregnant, even though Dan said he didn’t want any more kids—at least not with Lila. The kids, by the way, are stroppy 16-year-old Celie and confident 8-year-old Violet. Truant, the dog, bites people. Lila has the feels for Jensen, Bill’s gardener. On top of all this, Lila is imposed on by Gene, her dad, a bombastic has-been American actor who abandoned her and her lovely, bubbly mother when Lila was a child. Her mother who died, hit by a bus.
Moyes, the author of Me Before You, Someone Else’s Shoes and Paris for One, deeply understands the tribulations of women like Lila, who have a roof over their head, a garden out back that needs renovating and a bit of money even though their exes aren’t paying their fair share of child support. It’s easy to dismiss these women as privileged and clueless about what real hard times look like, but Moyes knows we all live in an entropic universe and things fall apart even in the cushiest life. It’s not a coincidence that nearly everyone in the family ends up at Violet’s school to watch a rather alternative production of Peter Pan. Growing up is not for the faint of heart, says this wise, funny and compassionate book.
