I have a hard time trying to think of how I would rate this book. Quindlen is a beautiful writer and I enjoy reading anything she puts down on paper. 
 However. 
 This book destroyed me. I never saw it coming. I never read any reviews for it and the inside jacket (had I read it) didn't give anything away, so when the middle of the book happened, I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. And then I cried for the remaining half of the book. While the story is beautiful, I'm almost mad at Quindlen for doing that to me. For sucker-punching me. For making me cry. Because, much like the main character, I never saw it coming. 
 Four stars for being beautifully written and compelling, but lacking that one extra star simply because I'm mad.