A funny, heartfelt, late coming-of-age story that examines the role of memory in holding us back—and in moving us forward

Call it inertia. Call it a quarter-life crisis. Whatever you call it, Cricket Campbell is stuck. Despite working at a zeitgeist-y wellness company, the twenty-six-year-old feels anything but well. Still adrift after a tragedy that upended her world a decade ago, she has entered early adulthood under the weight of a new burden: her father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis.

When Cricket’s older sister Nina announces it is time to move Arthur from his beloved Adirondack lake house into a memory-care facility, Cricket has a better idea. In returning home to become her father’s caretaker, she hopes to repair their strained relationship and shake herself out of her perma-funk. But even deeply familiar places can hold surprises.

As Cricket settles back into the family house at Catwood Pond―a place she once loved, but hasn’t visited since she was a teenager―she discovers that her father possesses a rare gift: as he loses his grasp of the past, he is increasingly able to predict the future. Before long, Arthur cements his reputation as an unlikely oracle, but for Cricket, believing in her father’s prophecies might also mean facing the most painful parts of her history. As she begins to remember who she once was, she uncovers a vital truth: the path forward often starts by going back.

This book starts out feeling familiar, then slowly shifts into something warmer and more heartfelt than I expected. By the time I hit the final chapters, I was fully invested and feeling all the feelings.

Cricket Campbell is twenty-six, spiraling a bit, and pretending she’s fine. She works at a trendy wellness company that promises clarity and balance, yet she feels neither. She’s been adrift for years, still carrying the weight of a tragedy that reshaped her life. When her father Arthur’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis forces her family to decide on next steps, Cricket makes the impulsive choice to return home and take care of him herself. She tells herself it’s about repairing their relationship, but it’s also pretty clear she’s hoping to repair herself along the way.

Cricket’s voice is sharp, funny, self-aware, and very relatable. She’s the kind of character you root for because she reminds you of a younger version of yourself, messy feelings and all. Her relationships with her sister and mother feel honest, but her relationship with her sick father is where the emotional heart of the book really shines. There’s such sweetness in their moments together, even when the pain of his memory loss hangs heavy in the background.

And then there’s the twist: Arthur starts predicting the future. At first, I braced myself, fully prepared for this to veer into something gimmicky. But it doesn’t. Hoen handles it gently, keeping everything grounded. The “predictions” toe the line between uncanny and believable. They could be coincidences. They could be intuition. And honestly, that ambiguity works. When you’re experiencing something life changing, you latch onto any flicker of hope. Cricket (and the others that Arthur makes predictions for) clings to these moments not because of some magical revelation, but because she wants a sign that things aren’t as bleak as they seem.

Hoen’s writing is smooth and warm, with just the right amount of emotional weight. It never drags, never gets saccharine, and balances humor with heartbreak in a way that makes the story feel alive. The pacing is gentle, and the character work is strong across the board. Nothing felt wasted or underdone. The book does a lovely job exploring the gray area between grief mixed with joy and the ache of remembering who you used to be while trying to figure out who you’re becoming. Cricket has a lot to reckon with, both in her past and her present, and watching her slowly step into a version of herself that feels whole again is incredibly satisfying.

I listened to this one on audio, and Barrie Kreinik’s narration is fantastic. She captures Cricket’s wit and vulnerability so well. She also captures the rest of the characters perfectly. She was the perfect match for the material.

This book is both uplifting and bittersweet. It’s not afraid to show the painful edges of caring for someone with Alzheimer’s, but it also celebrates the unexpected beauty that can show up in those moments. It’s heartfelt without being heavy-handed and hopeful without ignoring the harder truths.

If you’re looking for an end-of-year read that will give you something honest and comforting, this one hits the spot. It made me laugh, cry, and pause more than once just to sit with the feelings. Highly recommended.