Foster by Claire Keegan is a compact book, sharp like a punch to the gut, about children's lack of control in this world and a summer of lessons about letting actions speak louder than words.
Set in Ireland, a girl leaves home for the summer to live with an aunt and uncle who lost their only child. That home stands in stark contrast to the only home she knows, run by an alcoholic father and ever-pregnant mother with a brood of children they can ill afford. The child is open about the family’s money problems, and Mrs. Kinsella asks if her mother would be offended by the couple sending off a few bob. “She wouldn’t, but Da would,” the girl replies.
Edna Kinsella clearly dislikes her sister’s husband, Dan, blaming him for the family’s impoverishment and slovenly ways. But John Kinsella is a peacemaker. His goal is to get along with the child and he understands that requires the father’s agreement.
The contrast between the two homes is unnerving, and the child observes, “I am in a spot where I can never be what I always am nor turn into what I could be.”
She finds the new home strange, as life with the Kinsellas is a balance, with new freedoms and responsibilities. But regarded as an individual whose opinion matters, the child quickly comes to appreciate the Kinsellas, who have no trouble extending love beyond the boundaries of close family. She immediately observes the mutual respect and trust the childless couple have for each other. John Kinsella respects his wife, and explains that women have a gift for detecting eventualities. “A good woman can look far down the line and smell what’s coming before a man even gets a sniff of it.”
Of course, accidents happen, and the couple is calm and forgiving. Kinsella turns ordinary tasks, like collecting the mail, into little games. Life is orderly, comfortable despite unspoken grief over the son who died.
The couple feels guilt over the loss of the son, who died chasing the family dog into a slurry, and Edna Kinsella wonders how her sister could have parted with her daughter, trusting care with another, especially a woman who lost her son.
With love comes the fear and pain of loss. The Kinsellas and the girl understand their time together is fleeting, unlikely to be replicated by the child's own parents.
One night, John takes his nieces on a walk by the sea under a brilliant moon. “Kinsella takes my hand in his. As soon as he takes it, I realize my father has never once held my hand, and some part of me wants Kinsella to let me go so I won’t have to feel this. It’s a hard feeling but as we walk along I begin to settle in an let the difference between my life at home and the one I have her be.”
People long to trust others, but there is only one way to find out. The girl spends a short time with a neighbor of the Kinsellas, and the woman simultaneously spews gossip about the couple's dead son while pecking for more. Kinsella explains his wife “wants to find the good in others, and sometimes her way of finding that is to trust them, hoping she’ll not be disappointed, but sometimes she is.”
The man then advises the girl to limit what she tells others. "You don’t ever have to say anything…. Many a man’s lost much just because he missed a perfect opportunity to say nothing.”
Over a few short weeks, the girl learns much about generosity, patience and the ability to keep a confidence.
Through most of the book, the girl remains nameless although John Kinsella once refers to her as Petal, a name that may be a real name or not, as ephemeral and sweet as a loving closeness that spans one short summer.
