Amy Poeppel brings her signature âbig-hearted, charmingâ (The Washington Post) style to this wise and joyful novel that celebrates love, hate, and all of the glorious absurdity in between.
In the heart of Greenwich Village, three women form an accidental sorority when a babyâbelonging to exactly none of themâlands on their collective doorstep.
Lauren and her familyâlucky bastardsâhave been granted the use of a spectacular brownstone, teeming with history and dizzyingly unattractive 70s wallpaper. Adding to the homeâs bohemian, grungy splendor is the bar occupying the basement, a (mostly) beloved dive called The Sweet Spot. Within days of moving in, Lauren discovers that she has already made an enemy in the neighborhood by inadvertently sparking the divorce of a couple she has never actually met.
Melindaâs husband of thirty years has dumped her for a young celebrity entrepreneur named Felicity, and, to Melindaâs horror, the lovebirds are soon to become parents. In her incandescent rage, Melinda wreaks havoc wherever she can, including in Felicityâs Soho boutique, where she has a fit of epic proportions, which happens to be caught on film.
Oliviaâthe industrious twenty-something behind the counter, who has big dreams and bigger debtâgets caught in the crossfire. In an effort to diffuse Melindaâs temper, Olivia has a tantrum of her own and gets unceremoniously canned, thanks to TikTok.
When Melindaâs ex follows his lover across the country, leaving their squalling baby behind, the three women rise to the occasion in order to forgive, to forget, to Ferberize, and to track down the wayward parents. But can their little village find a way toward the happily ever afters they all desire? Welcome to The Sweet Spot.