From the Publisher

A young widow raising two boys, Sarah Laden is struggling to keep her family together. But when a shocking revelation rips apart the family of her closest friend, Sarah finds herself welcoming yet another troubled young boy into her already tumultuous life.

Jordan, a quiet, reclusive elementary school classmate of Sarah's son Danny, has survived a terrible ordeal. By agreeing to become Jordan's foster mother, Sarah will be forced to question the things she has long believed. And as the delicate threads that bind their family begin to unravel, all the Ladens will have to face difficult truths about themselves and one another—and discover the power of love necessary to forgive and to heal.

Publishers Weekly

Master caterer Sarah Laden is barely holding her life together as a widow with two difficult sons-recalcitrant teen Nate and troubled fifth-grader Danny-when the unthinkable happens. Her best friend and neighbor, Courtney Kendrick, is arrested in a child sex abuse scandal. Courtney's husband has vanished; their 11-year-old son, Jordan, is in the hospital recovering from a suicide attempt; and across the street Nate is finding, in Jordan's backpack, evidence of unthinkable abuse. Kittle (Traveling Light; Two Truths and a Lie) crafts a disturbing but compelling story line, as Sarah, Nate and Jordan uncover and come to terms with the horror in alternating chapters. Sarah, for instance, is shocked to learn that she dropped off food for the Kendricks' sex parties; Jordan must decide whether or not he wants to continue a relationship with his mother-who insists she's innocent-if and when she gets acquitted. Kittle's research sits awkwardly in expository dialogue-"One in four girls and one in six boys are sexually abused before their eighteenth birthdays," intones the detective who will later become Sarah's love interest-but it doesn't slow the momentum. Though the movement is toward healing, there are bumpy roads ahead for everybody in this melodramatic but gripping read. (Jan.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

In this slice of contemporary life, Kittle (Traveling Light) introduces Sarah Laden, the recently widowed mother of two challenging sons. While trying to reassemble their lives following her husband's death, Sarah operates a catering business in Ohio, handling many of the small-town functions. Then, unexpectedly, the family is thrown into the maelstrom surrounding an unspeakable crime against a child. Kittle zeroes in on the Ladens' incremental realization that their relationships with this child represent his best chance of repairing his damaged life. Their unselfishness is at the heart of this most memorable, compelling novel of survival. Kittle's careful character development and depiction of a loving family situation, along with the variety of statistics offered, help make this tale hard to put down. Although it is a grim, disturbing study of abuse, the conversational style and vividly drawn characters render it a moving portrait of how we heal. Recommended for all public libraries.-Andrea Tarr, Corona P.L., CA Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

A struggling family responds to the discovery of child sexual abuse very close to home. A middle-class household in small-town USA is transformed into a hellhole as Kittle (Two Truths and a Lie, 2001, etc.) depicts a child in peril. Thanks to the author's exceptionally fluent narrative skill, a novel which at times has the flavor of a public information account of abuse and its aftermath becomes utterly compelling. Jordan is the nerdy, withdrawn, 11-year-old son of glamorous, respected Mark and Courtney Kendrick. One morning, Courtney's best friend Sarah Laden discovers Jordan ill and alone and rushes him to the hospital. Jordan, whose sickness is a suicide-attempt overdose, is discovered to have been not only abused for years but also infected with gonorrhea, for which Courtney, a doctor, has been treating him with stolen drugs. A search of Jordan's home uncovers masses of evidence incriminating Mark but nothing directly implicating Courtney, whom recently widowed Sarah now struggles to recast as a monster. Jordan's own heartbreaking story encompasses fear, fury and loyalty; a sympathetic police officer, doubling as Sarah's love interest, offers useful background information. There are no surprises and a little too much sweet resolution, but Kittle unfurls her tale with absolute devotion.

Product Details

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Read a Sample Chapter

The Kindness of Strangers

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Whenever Sarah thought back to that morning twelve years ago, she remembered the chick.

She cracked open an egg, but instead of a yolk, a bloody chick embryo fell into the bowl. She stared at its alien eyes and gaping mouth, and the hair rose on her arms and neck. The maimed chick felt important somehow, a sign of how bleak and bad things had become. Sarah sensed that this was an omen, but she couldn't imagine for what or how to prepare herself.

The chick -- in addition to giving Sarah second thoughts about buying free-range eggs at the local farmers' market -- made her remember the robin's nest she'd found the day before in the apple tree. There had been four eggs, pale and delicate, like the sugar-dough decorations on the wedding cakes she was known for.

Sarah looked at the chick in the bowl and wanted to make sure the robin eggs were all right. She knew that this need was irrational -- her sons were expecting breakfast, it was typical springtime in Ohio with the rain running in sheets down the window, and the robin certainly didn't require her assistance. Sarah knew she had more pressing things to focus on -- she had to cater Thai red seafood curry for twelve today, she needed to start production on a wedding cake, and she was supposed to be developing recipes for a "salads as whole meals" spread for Food & Wine, whose deadline was rapidly approaching. Sarah mentally inventoried these obligations, but she slipped out the back door anyway. She jogged across the sodden ground and stepped onto the bench under the tree. At the sight of Sarah's gigantic head, the mother robin shrieked and fluttered to a higher branch. Sarah peered down at the nest, dry and cozy even in this downpour, and the eggs that, to her relief, still sat there like jewels. Four perfect eggs. Nothing but promise and potential ahead of them.

She'd once felt that way about her own family.

The eggs and that contorted chick reminded Sarah of the sappy assignment she'd been given in her grief support group two years ago, back when Roy, her husband, died. The counselor had told her to find three things each morning for which she felt grateful. The counselor told her not to count her two children -- they were "givens."

The robin screeched at her in urgent, one-note cries, and Sarah tried to think of something that inspired gratitude. Weariness and regret weighed her down, but she stubbornly shoved them away. She could do it, damn it; she could come up with three blessings. She scanned the yard, appraising it, as if it were a property she'd never seen. She looked at the old sandbox the boys used to play in and at her garden, its recently tilled earth as dark as Black Forest cake. One of these days, if the rain ever stopped, she would plant.

The mother robin hopped to a lower branch and continued the staccato warnings. Sarah felt bad prolonging the bird's worry, so she stepped down from the bench. As she did, she reached for a branch, for balance, and in a flash the robin dove at her. Sarah jerked her hand away, but not before she felt the stab of beak and the surge of adrenaline at the attack. The robin flew one more swipe at Sarah before settling defiantly back onto her nest. Sarah examined the wound. A drop of blood welled on the back of her hand but washed away in the rain. More blood rose from the tiny puncture when she clenched her fist. The entire hand throbbed, and the slight pain felt almost good. This was pain from outside, not from within. And not only did her hand ache, but she shivered, aware of how wet and cold she was, skin tight with goose bumps, nipples erect. She felt something. She was alive.

There. That was a blessing. She looked up at the tree, wanting to thank the bird for this sensation. This apple tree belonged to her younger son, Danny, who was eleven. Roy and Sarah had planted trees for both sons, in the ancient tradition that the branches from the trees would later be used for the chuppahs at their weddings. Danny used to be as sweet and cheerful as the tree's early-April bloom, but a crab apple tree might have suited him better lately. He'd changed. They'd all changed. And Sarah didn't know how to stop it, how to go back to the family they'd been before.

Sarah walked across the yard, through the rain, to Nate's dogwood tree and touched the trunk. This tree was planted nearly seventeen years ago. Now it stood taller than Nate.

Thank God, Nate's suspension from school was over -- that would be the second blessing of the day. He'd already been suspended twice this year for truancy; once more and he'd be expelled. Actually, this was the second for which he'd been caught. She knew he'd skipped more than that, because she'd seen him in the middle of a school day. Once, visiting Roy's grave at Temple Israel cemetery, she'd been outraged to see someone sitting on Roy's stone, smoking, but when she recognized Nate, she'd slunk away before he saw her. She'd never told him she'd seen him there, never scolded him for cutting class. And from the cigarette butts that accumulated at the grave, she knew he went frequently. She never mentioned the butts, for fear he'd cover his tracks, and she took comfort in knowing some small thing about his life. Plus, her approval of the visits might make him stop. Everything she said to Nate these days seemed only to insult and anger him. That's why she was making his favorite burritos this morning. She hoped they could be a peace offering.

The back door opened, and Nate stood at the screen. "What are you doing? You've been standing out there forever."

Continues...

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Excerpted from The Kindness of Strangers by Katrina Kittle Copyright © 2006 by Katrina Kittle. Excerpted by permission.
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