By Jami DenisonMotherhood has always had some aspects of performance. In the fifties, women were expected to look and act like June Cleaver. In the seventies, they were told to “bring home the bacon/fry it up in a pan/and never let you forget you’re a man.” The nineties were the SAHM versus working mom wars. Today, are you even a mom if you don’t have five social media accounts celebrating your child?
Author Amy Meyerson’s new book, The Water Lies, illustrates mothering in a fishbowl by having her protagonist, Tessa Irons, live in a touristy neighborhood in Venice Beach in Los Angeles, where the houses back to popular canals and their windows put their inhabitants on display. Tessa, the mother of a toddler son and heavily pregnant, lives her life in full view of nosy neighbors and her best friend across the canal. But when a dead body shows up in the water—and Tessa recognizes her as a woman who ignored her son’s calls the day before—suddenly no one has seen anything.
Barb, the dead woman’s mother, flies in to find out the truth about her daughter, with whom she had a shaky relationship after years of estrangement. The police say she drowned in a drunken accident, but Barb knows that Regina had been sober for years. She meets up with Tessa, who is terrified about her son’s connection to a dead woman. Together, they search for the truth, which seems to be hidden along those enticing canals.
Told from both Tessa and Barb’s alternating first-person points-of-view, The Water Lies has been compared to Rear Window due to its claustrophobic setting and Tessa’s suspicions about her neighbors. Tessa’s husband dismisses her concerns as pregnancy related, even while Tessa staunchly defends him and their marriage to the reader. Barb, who has a history of assuming the worst of a person and being accused of meddling, doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice. The character work with these two women, and their developing relationship, is the strongest feature of the novel.
As the book develops, the danger points closer to home than the neighbors. Tessa’s husband is a celebrated IVF doctor with his own clinic, and his job becomes entangled with the main plot. When Tessa finds out that Barb has been stalking him, she starts to doubt the older woman, who is convinced that Tessa is in danger. But will Tessa believe her before it’s too late?
The Water Lies covers many domestic suspense tropes, the most obvious one being the husband who cannot be trusted. But while the book starts very strong, Meyerson’s terrific set-ups result in flat payoffs. The plot grows convoluted. The murder victim, estranged from her mother and not known to Tessa at all, never completely emerges as a real person—and the second murder victim is even less developed. Meyerson’s fabulous character work for her two protagonists makes some of her reveals unbelievable. The climax introduces a new person previously only alluded to in glimpses, frustrating the reader.
Even so, the writing is excellent, better than in most domestic suspense novels I’ve read. Readers will root for Tessa and Barb, who are brave, thoughtful women determined to learn the truth about Regina’s death and their own culpabilities. And the ending is perfect.
The Water Lies begins by showing a mother aware of how the world judges her. It ends with women deciding for themselves what motherhood is.
Thanks to MB Communications for the book in exchange for an honest review.