Twenty

"Along with naming me Marguerite after her favourite daisy, Mama gave me three things: Red hair that hasn't faded. A love of nature. And a belief that somewhere between heaven and earth there is magic." At age fifty-five, Meg's life is too filled with loss for her to remember what magic feels like. When her daughter died, Meg's marriage withered too. After her divorce, she found purpose in nursing her ailing mother. Now alone again, Meg has a yard brimming with plants that are wilting in the scorching Iowa summer--and a bone-deep feeling that she's through with living. Meg has something else too: a bottle of mysterious pills, given to her years ago by an empathetic doctor. He promised that they would offer her mother a quick, painless death in exactly twenty days. Though her mother never needed them, Meg does. But a strange thing happens after Meg swallows the little green pearls . . . Now that she's decided to leave this world, Meg is rediscovering the joy in it. She sheds everything she no longer needs--possessions, regrets, guilt--and reconnects with those she cares for. Finally confronting the depth of her grief, she's learning that love runs deeper still. But is it too late to choose to stay? Defiantly uplifting, Twenty is a warm and unforgettable novel--a reminder that hope finds a way to bloom, if we let it.