The Big Guilt

FROM THE AUTHOR

"The Big Guilt is the family comedy I always wanted to write. I grew up in a very boisterous, emotional, Polish American family, thankfully more liberal than the Koslowskis in the book! Throughout my childhood, I was surrounded by larger-than-life personalities, particularly my grandmothers who never heard the word “no”, and who were both trailblazers for their time. This story is a tribute to all of them.

For anyone who has read any of my previous books, you know I love a good angsty love story. It was so much fun to imagine two women trying to navigate their feelings amidst the backdrop of familial expectations that skew toward crazy. Readers who didn’t grow up in such a strong, ethnic family may be amazed by the difficulty of the main character’s choice—but once they meet the Koslowskis, they’ll understand."

—Renée J. Lukas

Chapter one

The BIG Meet-cute

1995

Rachel Koslow had been asked to do the unthinkable—speak in a public place, in front of living, breathing people. As a twenty-something writer, she preferred to hide behind her eyeglasses and keyboard, curling up at night in pajamas instead of dressing up and facing an audience in a sparkly blouse that was deceptively prickly to her skin, like wearing a cactus.

But there she was, shifting her weight from one torture chamber, or high-heeled shoe, to another, slumping in the corner of Pages in Time, a quaint neighborhood bookstore in Boston. Rachel’s face was on the poster. Her book cover was blown up in the window. So it was she who would have to be charming and compelling and basically the reason why everyone else dressed up in uncomfortable clothes.

Wine was flowing and conversations were scattered throughout the cozy shop stuffed with new and used books on floor-to-ceiling shelves.

Sweat pooled across Rachel’s brow. Hot and crowded was not the appropriate atmosphere for nylon stockings. She did a dainty swipe of her forehead with a cocktail napkin, while she hid behind another poster. Her book, Cloudface, a family drama, had shot to the top of the bestseller list. No one was more shocked about this than Rachel Koslow.

A group of women were huddled together, intensely discussing her book, which was open to a particular page. Was there a typo? Still sipping wine in the shadows, Rachel watched them with hawkish, intense brown eyes. She kept pushing her damp hair away from her face, but her sandy locks continued to tumble forward in waves down her shoulders. Rachel didn’t really have a hairstyle, more like 1960s archival hippie-footage hair—parted down the middle and whatever happened on the sides just sort of happened.

That’s when Rachel first spotted Alexis.

She was the type of woman for whom glamorous clothes were designed. A Greek or Italian goddess, she wove through the crowd, as Rachel watched, hypnotized. She had such exquisite features, with almost translucent green eyes that looked at her as if she knew how many outfits Rachel had tried on before arriving that night. Tall and commanding, slightly older than Rachel with flowing, dark curled hair and just a hint of smile lines near her mouth, she took Rachel’s breath away in one sweeping glance.

She realized the woman was walking straight toward her.

“Alexis Ardin,” the woman said, handing her a fresh glass of wine. “Everyone calls me Alex. You look like you could use another.”

“I do?” Rachel’s face flushed. “This is my first book reading,” she said, almost apologetically. “Public speaking—ugh.”

“Not a fan?”

Rachel stared down at her feet. “Well, there was an unfortunate incident in fourth grade...” Shut up. She doesn’t care about that!

Alex smiled with amusement. “I don’t usually go to these things,” she said. “But I loved Cloudface so much I had to meet the woman who wrote it.” Her eyes were intense, fixed on Rachel with more attention than she was used to.

“Thank you.” Rachel didn’t meet her eyes, always guarded with more armor than a medieval knight.

“And not just because The New York Times said so,” Alex joked. She had an easy laugh, an inviting smile.

Rachel didn’t meet her gaze except to steal a few quick glances.

“The family in the story,” Alex began, as if carefully choosing her words, “they seemed...intense.”

“Oh yeah.” Rachel laughed nervously, gulping her wine.

“I know that many writers draw from real life,” Alex continued. “Is there any similarity to—”

“Oh no! I’ve spent the last year before publication assuring my family that it’s not about them. So no, not really, no.” Rachel was unconvincing, her look of anguish speaking volumes.

Alex laughed. Then Rachel laughed too, though both of them may have been laughing for different reasons.

“The thing is—” Rachel had one of those out-of-body moments, where her mouth started moving before she had a chance to reel in her words. “The thing is, they don’t understand. My parents believe success is having two-point-two children, a husband of course, not in that order.”

Alex’s hearty laugh seemed to validate Rachel, though she worried that she sounded like she was in a priest’s confessional.

“I’m just afraid,” Rachel continued, “if I follow the path everyone thinks, well, my writing’s going to take a back seat. So, yeah, I don’t want life to get in the way of my work, my passion. I know it sounds selfish.”

“Not at all.” Alex’s eyes sparkled with possibilities. “It’s okay to have ambition. Not everyone’s path has to be the same.”

Rachel stood, wide-eyed, relieved to hear someone say out loud that her dreams weren’t absurd. There was recognition in Alex’s eyes, an understanding beyond anything Rachel had ever experienced.

Suddenly, the bookstore owner called above the crowd, “We’re going to get started soon!”

Rachel said, “I guess that’s my cue.” She looked reluctantly toward the front of the room.

“It’s been really nice meeting you, Rachel Koslow,” Alex said, shaking her hand, her eyes still fixed on her.

Rachel was acutely aware of the softness of her hand, the nearness of her smooth, flawless skin—all of her senses sprang to life. But she pretended to be more interested in the next task at hand, marching toward the front, her curiosity eclipsing her fear just enough to sneak one more glance in Alex’s direction.

Rachel knew the person she saw looking back at her could change her life. But did she really want it changed?

The Lesbian Review
The author’s style is engaging and breezy, with an easygoing dialogue that captures the characters’ personality.

goodreads
Fiona S. - The Big Guilt is the perfect title for this story. As a reader I felt like I was in the midst of the vibrant European family craziness full of generational guilt and trying to live up to family expectations.