The FLYING PAPERS

Tragedy compels a young girl into a series of new adventures.

When Julia Santi was a child, she was part of a tightknit family: herself, her sister, their mother, and their father—their motto: “We four stick together in all kinds of weather.” But pancreatic cancer took her mother; her sister, Callie, died far too early, leaving behind her husband, Billy Bowen, and their little daughter, Rumi. Years later, Julia is a fashion designer in Manhattan with an apartment on Park Avenue. She’s on the verge of a breakout in her career—“The outfit was an instant hit and from that point on, fashion was Julia’s everything. She talked it, walked it, studied it, copied it, created it, critiqued it, sewed it, tore it apart, lived it, ate it, and breathed it”—when she gets an unexpected call from her father. Billy’s airplane has disappeared, and now 10-year-old Rumi is alone. Julia’s father, who’s footing the fashionista’s bill for her fancy apartment, orders her to take the girl in. When Rumi arrives in the city, she’s immediately a handful. She’s respectful, but she adamantly insists that her father is still alive (she likewise insists that she isn’t a Santi—her name is Bowen). Julia treats her with stiff affection, tries to enroll her in an exclusive academy, and does her best to acclimate to being what amounts to a foster parent. But when Rumi becomes convinced that a mysterious man who shows up in New York is in fact her father, the fragile peace of their new arrangement shatters.

The story of Rumi and the people around her is told with a quick pace that’s helped considerably by the fact that a large percentage of the narrative unfolds as dialogue. This plays to one of the author’s strengths. Since the dialogue is both sharply done and convincingly individualized, no two characters sound alike. And the text that interweaves the conversations is every bit as crystalline as the rest, often turning on a neat little insight. When Rumi reconsiders her father’s fate, for instance, we read, “Aunt Julia’s words had planted a seed and now doubts and fears were sprouting like weeds.” Or when Julia tartly reflects on the unexpected turn her life has taken: “Two weeks ago, I was free as a bird and excited to open a new boutique,” she thinks. “Now I’m the single parent of a ten-year-old, sitting on a toilet lid with no wine in sight and no brilliant wisdom to impart.” But the book’s most effective element is its unadorned but compassionate portrait of Rumi’s own character, her curiosity, her determination in the face of a bewildering new life, and, most of all, the tenacity of her optimism. The strength and resourcefulness she shows in the plot twists of the second half feel entirely grounded in the personality that’s well developed early on. And when Rumi reflects on the origins of her name—“If I end up with even an ounce of his wisdom, I’ll be happy”—readers will think she’s well on her way.

An affecting, well-constructed story of a family and a girl holding on to hope.