The Far End of Happy

By Kathryn Craft

Twelve tense hours, three women, and the suicide standoff that turns one family's little piece of heaven into a scene from hell

Ronnie Farnham's husband is supposed to move out today. But when Jeff pulls into the driveway drunk, with a shotgun in the front seat, she realizes nothing about the day will go as planned.

The next few hours spiral down in a flash, unlike the slow disintegration of their marriage—and whatever part of that painful unraveling is Ronnie's fault, not much else matters now but these moments. Her family's lives depend on the choices she will make—but is what's best for her best for everyone?

Based on a real event from the author's life, The Far End of Happy is a chilling contemporary novel. Fans of Mary Kubica, Diane Chamberlin, and Rosalind Noonan will be on the edge of their seats during this story of one troubled man, the family that loves him, and the suicide standoff that will change them all forever.

What reviewers are saying about The Far End of Happy

"This novel is the very definition of a page-turner as it follows a twelve hour stand-off between a man threatening suicide and the police."—Huffington Post

"This title is based on the author's experience with a standoff involving her husband, which adds real, raw, emotion to the plot. Framing the novel within a 12-hour period keeps the pages turning"—Library Journal

"…a heartbreaking story packed with tension and brimming with humanity."—Lori Nelson Spielman, #1 international bestselling author of The Life List

"A compelling read, an unflinching exploration of one of life's most inexplicable horrors."—New York Journal of Books

"Kathryn Craft keeps the tension edge-of-your-seat suspenseful in The Far End of Happy…"— Kate Moretti, author of the New York Times bestselling Thought I Knew You, and Binds That Tie

"A complex and gripping story of broken hearts, lives, and marriages that will tear you apart from beginning to end."—Steena Holmes, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Memory Child and Finding Emma

"An incredibly honest and courageous exploration of a marriage torn apart by neglect and threats of suicide."—Mary Kubica, author of The Good Girl

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sourcebooks
• Release date: May 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781492604969

Kathryn Craft

Kathryn Craft has been a leader in the southeastern Pennsylvania writing scene for more than a decade and is the author of The Art of Falling. She lives in Doylestown, Pennsylvania with her husband.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Kathryn Craft

Cover and internal design © 2015 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover design by Eileen Carey

Cover image © Jill Battaglia/Trevillion Images

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Some characters in this story are drawn from the life of the author, though names have been changed. Any similarity of other characters to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

Published by Sourcebooks Landmark, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Craft, Kathryn.

The far end of happy / Kathryn Craft.

pages ; cm

(softcover : acid-free paper) 1. Psychological fiction. I. Title.

PS3603.R338F37 2015

813’.6—dc23

2014042684

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contents

Front Cover

Title Page

Copyright

7:00 a.m.

Ronnie

Beverly

8:00 a.m.

Ronnie

Ronnie

9:00 a.m.

Janet

Ronnie

Beverly

Ronnie

10:00 a.m.

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Janet

Ronnie

Beverly

Janet

11:00 a.m.

Ronnie

Janet

Ronnie

Ronnie

Janet

Ronnie

Ronnie

Beverly

Ronnie

12:00 p.m.

Beverly

Ronnie

Beverly

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

1:00 p.m.

Beverly

Janet

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

2:00 p.m.

Janet

Ronnie

Janet

Beverly

Janet

Beverly

Ronnie

Ronnie

Beverly

3:00 p.m.

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

4:00 p.m.

Ronnie

Ronnie

Janet

Ronnie

Ronnie

5:00 p.m.

Beverly

Ronnie

Beverly

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

6:00 p.m.

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Ronnie

Reading Group Guide

A Conversation with the Author

An excerpt from The Art of Falling

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Back Cover

To my sons, Jackson and Marty

7:00 a.m.

ronnie

The pages felt thick with life as they flipped through her fingers. A long-suffering friend, this journal, taking everything she’d thrown at it. The questions. The tortured answers. The pros. The cons. Moments rich with beauty. The long slow death of a dream.

At the top of each page, she’d centered her name: Ronnie Farnham. On the lines below, she’d centered herself.

Ronnie sat on the guest room bed, propped a pillow against the wall behind her, and waited for the jostle as her shaggy little dog, Max, repositioned himself against her thigh. She pressed her pen to a cool, fresh page. Today, more than any other, in these last precious moments before her sons awoke, Ronnie needed the ink to offer up its ever-flowing possibilities.

Her pen stalled after one short sentence.

Today Jeff is moving out.

She would not have predicted this day in her marriage. Its impact was impossible to fathom. How could she write beyond such words? Ronnie shut her journal. Only one sentence, but it was a good one. Full of hope, but also one of the saddest she’d ever written. She’d have to sort her feelings tomorrow. Today was a day for moving forward. She capped the pen and placed the notebook onto the growing pile of journals beneath the bed.

At least she felt rested. If she’d tried these earplugs weeks ago, she could have avoided the inexorable pull of Jeff’s late-night pot banging, she thought as she pulled them from her ears.

She heard voices from downstairs—loud voices—and she could swear one of them was George Stephanopoulos.

Max bolted through the door and raced down ahead of her as she went to investigate. Their kitchen was devoid of life, but beyond it, the living room was fully lit. The terse Good Morning America theme trumpeted another day’s tragedies while no one watched. She turned off the set, shocking herself with the sudden silence. Her family had never turned the TV up so loud. The set was hot. Had she slept through another of Jeff’s attempts to coax her into late-night conversation? Or was it the boys?

Ronnie headed up to their attic bedroom to check, Max on her heels. Will’s covers still bound him mummy-like, the way she’d left him the night before. In Andrew’s bed, limbs and sheets were tossed like a salad. Both faces were puffy with sleep, their breaths even.

Back on the second floor, Ronnie passed the guest room as she stole toward the bedroom she’d shared with Jeff for twelve years. He’d taken to sleeping with its door open, a standing invitation. She didn’t really want to see him in their bed. It was too confusing, his face all boyish, lips relaxed and kissable.

But her desire for an explanation for the blaring TV made her risk a peek.

The bed was made, the room empty.

Maybe Jeff couldn’t bear a scene with the boys and had moved out last night. He had trouble with good-byes.

Tiptoeing into the room, as if the very walls would call her out for prying, Ronnie checked the floor on Jeff’s side of the bed, where she would be sure to find yesterday’s work uniform in a clump.

Nothing.

Since she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, she scooted around the bed to pull on a fresh sweater and jeans from her dresser and finger-combed her hair. Last night she’d been too tired to tame her curls.

Returning to this room gave her the sense she was being watched. When she spun around, she tripped over the dog. She stopped just short of kicking him. Damn it, Max, why are you always underfoot?

The dog backed up a few feet and sat, looking up at her, whining.

I didn’t let you out yet, did I? She patted the dog on the head and closed the bedroom door behind them.

Downstairs Ronnie let Max out the kitchen door, one of the perks of living on a farm set back off the road. In the windbreak on the other side of the berry field, a gusty October wind tugged at the branches of a stalwart maple. Despite the beauty of the leaves releasing in a splashy swirl, it hurt Ronnie to watch its branches swinging back and forth in violent indecision. She knew how it felt to be torn between standing firm and uprooting. She called Max, fed him kibble from a low cabinet, and started a pot of coffee.

A black plastic container sat beside the coffeemaker. Drying beef and gravy stuck to its sides. Odd. She and the boys had eaten stir-fry the night before, and she’d never seen Jeff resort to eating a frozen dinner.

On the kitchen table, stuck between the bananas in the fruit bowl, stood a short spine of folded twenties. The wad was thick between her fingers.

Twelve-hundred-dollars thick.

This was not the house she’d closed her eyes on the night before. Something had gone haywire. Shifted.

She pulled the pot away and let the coffee drip straight into her mug as she struggled to order her thoughts. On their own, each of the morning’s oddities could be explained away. Max could have sat on the TV remote, inadvertently turning up the volume. Maybe Jeff, hungry after a bartending shift at two a.m., couldn’t find a restaurant serving dinner. Or he’d stockpiled tips and accidentally left the money on the table. But together…

Jeff was trying to tell her something, and, as usual, he wasn’t using words. Her hand shook as coffee overflowed the edge of her mug.

She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes till the boys’ alarm went off. She crossed to the basement door, shut it quietly behind her, and headed down to her office so she could make a call in private.

At her desk, Ronnie reached for the receiver—then froze when she saw the note with Jeff’s handwriting stuck to it:

I see you called Kevin again last night. *69, remember?

Kevin. Really? Jeff was tracking her interview calls? Ronnie couldn’t help but look around the room, even through the door and windows that overlooked the hill and farm store down below, to see if Jeff was watching her now. She crumpled the note and dialed the phone.

Jeez, Ronnie, the birds aren’t even up yet. Her brother Teddy’s voice croaked from interrupted sleep. Back when she was twenty-six, she too would have still been in bed, although she already would have nursed and changed Andrew and settled him back to sleep between her and Jeff. Back when a snuggle solved all problems.

Ronnie added up all the odd details for Teddy. Before, her brother had provided a comforting echo of the denial Ronnie had clung to over the past year. You two were meant for each other. Marriage takes work; you’re just in the work part. He’s so scared of losing you he’s lost his composure. But such notions were getting harder and harder to cling to. Especially today.

Do you think Jeff would really do it? she said.

No. He’s just trying to rattle you.

Just rattling her, yes. Jeff was used to calling all the emotional shots—and was damned good at it.

You’re overreacting, Ronnie. Frozen food, unexplainable cash, a loud TV—those are first-world problems, Teddy said, intoning new perspective he’d earned that summer while providing dental treatments to children in Honduras. Compared to the rest of the planet, we have it good here.

She hadn’t called for a lecture from Teddy. Just this once, she’d needed him to hear her and affirm her sense of alarm. She couldn’t simply ignore the crackle of tension that had stolen the calm from her old Pennsylvania farmhouse.

Ronnie heard footsteps overhead. I hear the boys. Gotta go.

I’m here if you need me. Hi to the boys.

Yes, if she needed him, he was there—in Baltimore, one hundred miles away. As she climbed back up to the kitchen, each stair pressed the yoke of worry heavier onto her shoulders.

It’s mine! Let go! Andrew said, his hand in the cereal cupboard.

I touched it first! Eight-year-old Will punched his older brother in the arm.

Boys, what’s going on?

There’s only a little bit of Honey Nut Cheerios left, and I touched it first, Will said. Andrew, ten, looked stony-faced.

And what do you think I’m going to say about that?

Will huffed, then poured the remainder of the cereal into two bowls so carefully he seemed to count each Cheerio. The boys sat in front of their ridiculously underfilled bowls, too proud to admit they’d fought their way toward an unsatisfying breakfast, and added a splash of milk from the carton. Ronnie did the same with her equally small portion of Raisin Bran and, for the sake of her children, pretended she had the stomach to eat it.

Though she’d checked the whole house, Jeff felt very much here, his angst clinging to every word, dragging on every effort. She glanced toward the stairs, still thinking he might appear any moment. How many months had it been since she’d been able to relax in her own home?

Mom, did you get me those markers and poster board? Andrew said. The game I made up is due tomorrow.

Another dropped ball. Another emergency. Yet she couldn’t berate Andrew for procrastinating; she had an Organic Gardening PA article due today that she hadn’t yet written.

Remind me after school.

Ronnie gulped her cooling coffee, awaiting its jolt. After today, she’d drink caffeine-free tea and return to the simple pleasures of raising her boys.

Will slurped the sweet milk from his cereal bowl.

Don’t forget your instrument, Ronnie told him. I put it by the door. Will hadn’t known what a viola was when he signed up to take lessons, but he did so because his older brother took violin. The show of brotherly one-upmanship Will displayed every time he laid that big viola across his narrow shoulder always brought a smile to Ronnie’s face.

Did you finish marking my form for the reading contest? Will said.

Sorry, ran out of energy. I’ll do it tonight.

It’s due today! Will’s chair skidded back as he stood. I could win a day tubing up at Bear Mountain this winter, and you don’t even care how hard I worked!

That’s not true—

And now Dad’s going to leave, and who’s going to be left to think about me?

The silence was abrupt. She was still assembling a careful path of words when Andrew, her peacekeeper, jumped in.

Let’s go brush our teeth, he said.

Hey. Ronnie grabbed Will’s wrist. You’re right, I’ve been busy. And distracted. Big changes are going on around here, and it’s hard for all of us. But I’ve seen how much you’ve been reading. Bring the contest form down, and I’ll drive it over to the school later.

Promise?

Promise. Now scoot.

The pounding of sneakers receded on the wooden stairs. Trying to set right what she could, Ronnie tossed the mysterious frozen food container in the trash, slipped the wad of money into her purse, and reached into the fridge for the boys’ lunches.

Max hopped from the stairwell onto the deep kitchen windowsill to bark at something. What, at this time of the morning? The boys’ sneakers pounded back down the stairs as they raced to the window to investigate. Ronnie rested her hands on their shoulders as she peered out.

Jeff was pulling his Nissan sedan around at the top of the driveway.

I thought Dad was upstairs, Will said.

Guess he went out this morning, Ronnie said, infusing her voice with false cheer. No need to share that it looked like their father hadn’t slept in the house last night and might just be getting home.

But his car didn’t come up the drive. It came from behind the barn.

Clearly Will had that detail wrong. Jeff must have regretted his decision to slip out without saying good-bye to his sons and returned to do so.

Brush your teeth and you can go out and give him a hug. She’d send them out alone. She couldn’t bear to witness this five-hanky farewell. The boys would miss the bus, of course. Maybe they’d want to miss school too, and Ronnie couldn’t blame them. Unexpected as this early good-bye was, the entire day would be better once it was behind them.

Her sons, their summer blond all but gone with the last cut, now stood at the door, looking through its twin panes of glass. Boys. I said to go brush your teeth.

They didn’t move.

Will, Andrew, she said, joining them. Why are you just standing here?

Ronnie looked out. Jeff’s car faced downhill, and he was staggering around the trunk to the near side of the car.

He’s drunk, said Will.

Ronnie saw no point in arguing. Jeff had been drinking more in recent months and not hiding it as well. Even though Will had never seen his father drunk, he had just finished drug and alcohol resistance training in school and knew the signs.

What’s he doing? Andrew said.

Oh god. Jeff bent over, pulling a length of tubing from the exhaust pipe of the car.

Ronnie flipped the dead bolt shut. You two stay right here, you hear me? She squeezed their shoulders to be sure they’d paid attention. I’m going to call Grandma Bev.

Waiting for the bus wouldn’t do. Ronnie needed to get her sons away from this farm. Now.

beverly

Beverly Saylor scrolled through the new rental listings as both a real estate agent with a commission at stake and a mother whose heart was breaking. Her laptop perched on a wobbly TV table, she dutifully checked for a place big enough to accommodate a woman with two growing boys and a dog, in their current school district, within Ronnie’s budget. But she couldn’t envision her daughter anywhere but in the house she and Jeff had so beautifully tailored to their needs (where else would she find a butcher block counter at perfect kneading height, with an overhang that would allow a pasta roller to be clamped?) and on the farm they’d revived, where they had planned to raise their family.

An adorable two-bedroom, one-bath, over-the-garage apartment popped up. The wood floors would be a plus with the boys’ allergies. Beverly could almost pretend it would be fun to help Ronnie decorate it. But no dogs. No point mentioning this one. Leaving the dog with Jeff was not negotiable, Ronnie had said. When she adopted Max, she had committed to caring for him for his entire life; she would not leave him behind.

The listings proved what Beverly feared: her thirty-five-year-old daughter simply wanted too much.

The knot between Beverly’s shoulders loosened. One more day without a workable solution was one more that kept Ronnie and Jeff in the same house, where they might find a way to address their differences. That may be the biggest help she could offer.

Lately it seemed Ronnie was more dedicated to her dog than she was to the husband she’d vowed to love for the rest of her life. And she’d done so before God and a church full of witnesses, a snag Beverly had cleverly circumvented with her own marriages, one officiated at sea and the other two in front of a judge. Still. Beverly looked down at the ring with the tiny diamond she’d never removed from her hand. A promise should mean something.

Beverly had been emotionally invested in Ronnie and Jeff’s relationship from the start. The summer after her college graduation, Ronnie had been so depressed that Beverly splurged for a nice dinner out for the two of them. Ronnie’s degree from Fordham had her ready to take the world of journalism by storm—whatever that meant—but left her unprepared to find a job that would pay for the smallest of New York apartments. How could any of them have known that in four short years, the college major offering an on-ramp to a career highway would dwindle to a narrow path as articles that once garnered income were now posted on blogs for free? Ronnie’s return to Beverly’s apartment, and full-time work at the Valley View restaurant, was a one-way street heading the wrong way.

When surf and turf failed to cheer her daughter, Beverly thought it would be a kick to take her over to have a drink at the hotel bar Jeff tended. Back when Ronnie was a child and Jeff was in college she had adored him, and she hadn’t seen him in ages.

The hotel was busy that Friday, and she and Ronnie had taken the last two stools at the big U-shaped bar, watching Jeff locate every bottle by muscle memory. He opened coolers, poured drinks, tapped beer, slid napkins, and pocketed tips without one wasted movement, all while looking debonair in a tux shirt and vest. He was only five years younger than Beverly, she’d once realized, although since he was her best friend Janet’s son, she had always thought of him as a generation removed. He was lonely, she knew, since his first wife had left him. Not that Jeff ever mentioned it. It was something in his eyes. She’d seen that same look once before in a rescue shelter, and Beverly had taken the little dog home with her.

Hello, Bev. When Beverly had showings in the area she often stopped in; Jeff set a Manhattan in front of her before she even ordered. He then slipped a napkin in front of Ronnie. And what would you like, ma’am?

I’d like you to recognize me, for one thing, Ronnie said.

Jeff had cocked his head, thought a moment, then flashed her his broad, gap-toothed smile. No—Little Ronnie?

Well, no one calls me that anymore.

He allowed his gaze to dip. I can see why not.

Beverly hid her smile by sipping her drink.

Her daughter’s face had pinked right up, but she’d kept her gaze steady.

Been back in town long?

What town? They’d both laughed. Both Bartlesville, where Jeff lived, and Potts Forge, where Ronnie was staying with her mother, were rural post offices more than towns. I’d heard you worked at a grain brokerage, selling corn to chip companies or something.

I did, but this hotel has a busy banquet schedule. The money was too good to pass up. Jeff had leaned his elbows onto the bar and gazed into her eyes. Keeping tabs on me, are you?

Okay, maybe he didn’t do the elbow leaning—Jeff was nothing but classy and professional behind the bar—but that’s how Beverly remembered it. And just as she’d hoped, she solved her daughter’s blues. Within a year, she was walking Ronnie down the aisle and into Jeff’s arms.

Since then she’d been watching Ronnie’s marriage from the stands, first cheering then biting nails, hoping her team would go the distance. And what better team to root for than her brilliant daughter and her best friend’s son? Those kids were so in love they’d even made their mothers happier people.

After all, people meant to be together should not be separated. Beverly felt enough regret for all of them on that score, as might several of her husbands. If only Ronnie could see Jeff safely through whatever personal crisis he’s been going through lately, Beverly thought while shutting down her computer, there would still be hope.

For Jeff—and for them all.

Beverly’s smartphone vibrated in her back pocket, prodding her from her chair. A request for a second showing, she hoped. She kept telling her clients the housing market was looking up yet was still waiting for evidence that this was true. But no, it was her daughter’s ever-smiling face that popped up.

Hello, Sunshine.

Mom, I need you to come to the farm right now.

The panic in Ronnie’s voice gripped her. Okay.

Jeff was going to leave today, but it isn’t going right and I’ve got a full day at the store and the boys will miss the bus and—

I’m on my way.

I don’t have time to explain—

Ronnie. Let me get my jacket. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.

8:00 a.m.

ronnie

Ronnie hung up the phone and heard the flip of the dead bolt.

Andrew yelled, Mom!

Ronnie rounded the corner to see Will, skinny and determined, push through the door.

Will, get back here! Ronnie shouted.

We can’t let him drive!

For some reason, after Jeff shut the trunk, he had not come to the house but was weaving his way toward the driver’s side door. Will was right—they couldn’t let him drive. One swerve and he’d bowl down children arriving at their bus stops.

Ronnie burst through the door and chased after Will, who stood outside the open car door, saying, Give me the keys, Dad. Jeff ignored him—ignored his own frantic son—and started the car. Ronnie thrust her arm past Jeff, intent on pulling the keys from the ignition. Her hand was inches away from a small cooler, a large bottle of vermouth, a larger one of whiskey, a spilled carton of cigarettes—and a shotgun leaning against the seat.

Oh god, no. Had Will seen all that?

Jeff put the car in drive and let it roll forward. Ronnie moved along with it, hit the gearshift, and threw it in park. Booze sloshed in plastic mugs in the cup holders. Jeff’s head bumped against hers, but Ronnie was able to extract the keys. Jeff lurched from the car to take them back and soon Ronnie, Will, and Jeff were pinching and scratching to get ahold of the keys.

Andrew stood on the front porch, as still as one of its columns. Mom, what should I do? he shouted.

Ronnie answered, Call 911 and tell them your father’s trying to drive drunk.

She had to put an end to this. Ronnie clawed at Jeff’s eyeglasses and threw them, hoping he was intoxicated enough that the vision change might disorient him. In the moment when Jeff watched his glasses skid across the top of the car, Ronnie smashed the back of his hand against the door frame. He released the keys.

I’ve got them. Will, run inside!

When they reached the house, Ronnie pushed Will through the door, causing him to stumble on the threshold. She heard Jeff on their heels. When he lunged for the screen door, Ronnie looked back at the man she’d vowed to love forever and kicked him in the ribs.

Jeff stumbled but steadied himself against the open screen door, his blue eyes looking up at hers in shock. As if she’d shot him, and he’d seen his own blood. Kick through the board, she heard Andrew’s Tae Kwon Do instructor say. She kicked again, harder, and down he went. Ronnie slipped through the door and threw the dead bolt.

Ronnie and Will stood inside the door, facing Jeff. What the hell had she just done?

Fuck you, Jeff said, flipping Ronnie the finger. If you won’t let me drive, I’ll kill myself right here. He strode back toward the car.

Ronnie pulled Will back, knocking over the viola case. His body heaved with shivers, as if he’d been submerged in icy water. She turned him toward her and warmed his face in her palms. Will? Are you okay, baby?

He pushed her away and ran to the window by the stairs, still trembling so hard Ronnie was shocked his legs could move. She followed and saw Jeff rooting in the car. Behind her, Andrew said, Mom, they want to talk to you. Ronnie pulled Will from the window and into the kitchen, where an L-shaped bank of cabinets would keep them out of sight.

Mrs. Farnham? I’m the 911 dispatcher. The man spoke in a firm, steady voice. After Ronnie verified their address, he said, Your son has reported a domestic disturbance. Help is already on its way. I understand your husband is attempting to drive while intoxicated. What’s going on right now?

Ronnie relayed what had happened so far, panting for air. When she got to the part about Jeff pulling tubing from the tailpipe, Will tugged on

Reviews for The Far End of Happy

[pennma05-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I thought that this book was very interesting. I like how the author moved from present to past with Ronnie remembering all of the things that had gone wrong between her and Jeff. The story felt so real, almost like I was there experiencing everything first hand. What a terrifying situation. And after I finished the book I found out that the author had based this book off her own personal experience with her first husband's suicide, it made it all the more real. I would recommend this book to anyone who is into very dramatic, fast paced real life issues.

[laura.w.douglas · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Far End of Happy by Kathryn Craft


The story begins the morning Jeff has argued to move out of his house. He’s been drinking and his soon to be ex-wife, Ronnie, has asked him to leave. This begins a stalemate between Jeff and the local police. Ronnie and the boys are taken away from the family farm while the police try to coax Jeff to leave their small farm store. When the boys are safely at a friend’s house, Ronnie, her mother, and her mother in-law continue to wait and try to make sense of Jeff’s position and their own lives.

This isn’t a non-fiction work, but it reads almost like one. As each of the three women tell their points of view, the pieces of Jeff’s life become clearer. He loves his wife, his boys, and his mother, but is that enough to lure him back into the reality that has been clouded from years of isolation and drinking?

It was an emotional book to read. Each hour pulls the three women apart, together, and apart again. The work focuses not on an alcoholic and his decisions, but on how those decisions affect those who love him. The story reminds me of words spoken at my father in law’s funeral. “We couldn’t ask him enough, fuss at him enough, or love him enough to bring him back to us.”

I received this ARC from Net Gallery in exchange for an honest review.

[booklovers2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is not the genre of reading that I typically would choose.- Standoff Suicide- a mother with 2 young sons decides to divorce her alcoholic husband - she tries to do everything right, she wants him in their son's lives - she wants this to be as amicable as possible - he shows up the morning he is suppose to move out- drunk and brandishing a shot gun - 911 is called and the state police whisk Ronnie and her children out of there and then begin the standoff with police trying to talk him out of the barn ------ the traumatic events of a 1 day standoff suicide--- This is a DINNER with the Author book and since our local book store Loves Kathryn Craft !! This read for me was out of respect for the author. I read her "Art of Falling" which was beautifully written and enjoyed the Meet the Author at Java's. Since then, Kathryn has been very supportive to many of the local authors who do events at the Harleysville Book Store and we have all come to love her. Kathryn told us about this book while she was working on it, so knowing the storyline made it a very difficult book for me to pick up and read.... I really didn't want to... too depressing... but once I got started, I paged thru it pretty quickly - although knowing the outcome before I opened the book.... I was engaged in the way she told the story, from the points of view of her, her mother, and her mother-in-law. She intertwined present day with a back drop of where it all started so seamlessly and the book flowed flawlessly. Its so hard to say that I enjoyed it...but I can say it was so very well written that it engaged me from early on and I was committed to the last page. It was a very emotional book, I am glad I read it and I am proud to have met the strong woman, mother, daughter and daughter-in-law portrayed as Ronnie in this book and I wish Joy to her and her 2 sons and peace in moving on with their lives. Thank you Kathryn for sharing your story! 

[froxgirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The tragic evolution of strong romantic love into broken marriage is a common theme. But this autobiographical domestic thriller takes place over the course of one given and one taken day. Ronnie returns home from college and falls in love with Jeff, her mother's best friend's son, whom she worshipped when she was six years old and he was a college freshman. At first all goes happily as they renovate a farm together. But Jeff brings on big debt and hides it from Ronnie, and he seems strangely uninvolved in the lives of their two sons, although his professed adoration for her never wanes.Unaware of tragic secrets of both families, Ronnie soldiers on until Jeff's alcoholism and his disinterest in her writing career creates a deep rift and she decides to leave him and their idyllic farm life. The novel takes place on the day Ronnie has set as her deadline to leave Jeff.Each hour ticks by agonizingly slowly, with especially strong scenes with Ronnie's mother Beverly and her mother in law Janet, as Jeff holes up in their farm office with a shotgun and bottles of booze.The novel is a bit too long and a bit too wordy, but it's very affecting and would be the source of much good discussion on the nature of depression, marriage, and attraction.

[uanbookaddict · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

As a blogger, I tend to read more indie published books... I do so for so many different reasons. When books like this come my way, I snatch up the opportunity. Traditionally published books tend to get overlooked more and more these days. I am not sure why. Maybe it's their cost? Maybe it's the advertising? Whatever the case may be, we need to not forget that gems like these need to be read too.

How do you describe something so profound? This book is a true work of literary fiction. So raw, so real. This story is one that will have you sobbing and clutching your heart.

I can't figure out where to start or where to go with this review. This book is so profound, so heartbreaking. It's almost hard to put my feelings for it into words. I find myself just wanting to tell you to read this book. If you are looking for something deep, personal, raw, captivating, then this is a book for you. It's so surreal that it seems as if it's a biography instead of a work of fiction.

The twelve hour journey between Jeff's wife, her mother and Jeff's mother gives you not just insight to the situation at hand, but also the insight to what has lead to this moment over time. You get so much of who these characters were and are, you will find yourself asking why hadn't anyone seen this coming? The self-denial and self-blame in the story alone will have your mind racing and your heart pounding.

Every family has secrets. There are those things that no one discusses. Whether they just choose to ignore what's right in front of them, or they are ashamed and want things hidden, it doesn't matter. There are always secrets that will come to the surface when it's too late. That is exactly what happens in this story.

Jeff is holed up in his store's office. Shotgun in hand, ready to end his life. End his suffering. His mental-illness has gotten to the point where he can't think clearly and wants to suffer no more. Had this always been an issue with him? Had his entire life lead up to this standoff? Or was it his drinking?

Jeff's mother wants to believe that her son is perfectly normal. He is where he is because of his nagging wife. She is set on the wife causing their problems. The blame is to be left to his wife.

Jeff's wife has tried so hard to get him the help he needed. His refusal and denial of his problems has lead him to his current situation. She wants to feel empathy for him. How can she? She has done everything in her power to try to save him from himself. Her love for him seems to have been buried deep inside of her with no hope of surfacing, even in this tragic time.

Jeff's mother-in-law can't seem to wrap her head around the situation. She is caught in the middle. Jeff's mother has been her best friend for decades. But shouldn't loyalties lie with your blood? Her daughter? She tries to remain the rock for these women all the while play peace keeper. She knew her son-in-law had some issues. She hadn't realized just how bad they were. Her denial of her own past and the now have now intertwined into one big mess. A mess that could be life-altering.

This book isn't just about mental-illness and alcoholism. It's also about self-discovery and retribution. This book shows that denial and secrets can rip a family apart. It's also about healing and finding strength in family.

[shetreadssoftly · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Far End of Happy by Kathryn Craft is a very highly recommended novel about a suicide standoff and a woman trying to come up with the inner strength to make it through the horrific day.

As she is mentally preparing herself for the day, Ronnie (Veronica) Farnham contemplates, "How many months had it been since she’d been able to relax in her own home?" Today her husband, Jeff, is supposed to move out of their farmhouse in Bartlesville, located in rural eastern Pennsylvania. Their marriage has been struggling for years, but with Jeff's increased drinking and out -of-control spending, which has led to huge credit card debt, Ronnie knows it is time to leave and try to make a future for her and her two boys.

A day that is already guaranteed to be stressful turns into a nightmare when a drunken Jeff pulls his car up to the front of the house. He has had way-to-much to drink, has a hose hanging from his exhaust pipe, a shotgun in the front seat, and is threatening to commit suicide. Ronnie and the boys manage to get the car keys and call 911, but when a crazed Jeff chases them into the house they are afraid. The police arrive but Jeff has taken off, holing up in the office of their farm store, New Hope Farms, with his gun.

The police manage to get Ronnie and the boys out of the house and off the farm. Ronnie's mother, Beverly, and Jeff's mother, Janet, meet them at the local firefighter's hall while the police have the road to the farm and the area locked down and under surveillance. The 12 hour standoff has begun. Ronnie manages to get the boys to a friend's house for the day, but she is stuck waiting, with her mother and mother-in-law. The story is told through Ronnie, Beverly, and Janet. Ronnie discovers that there are more family secrets than she thought, as the truth is slowly revealed during the tension packed standoff. We also learn more about the families and the history of each character as each woman reflects on her life.

Even as I felt the tension ratchet up during the twelve hour standoff, I also could see the personal reflection from each character as they wondered if they had a role in the day's tragic events. Could the marriage have been saved? Did any one action push Jeff over the edge? At the same time secrets are revealed that might have been helpful if they were made known, if risk factors were discussed. There are a wide range of emotions and questions that would plague anyone in this situation. Craft also realistically includes the ever-present media and their following of the "story."

I was totally engrossed in this well written, engaging story from start to finish and only learned afterwards that it was based on a personal experience by Kathryn Craft. That would explain her uncanny ability to capture the genuine, raw emotions of each character and honestly confront the effects depression, alcoholism, and suicide can have on a family.

Disclosure: My Kindle edition was courtesy of Sourcebooks via Netgalley for review purposes.

[judithdcollins · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A special thank you to SOURCEBOOKS Landmark and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review. A lovely front cover depicting the perfection and calm of the exterior, versus the turmoil inside. THE FAR END OF HAPPY, a complex, intense, and powerful novel told over a twelve hour span; three women, a trouble man (a son, a father, a husband), secrets, a past, mounds of debt, shame, insecurity, responsibility, guilt, baggage brought into a marriage, a family history, a suicide standoff, tragedy, two sons, despair, hope . . from private to public. An author who courageously revisits a painful time, creating an emotional, sensitive and painful yet captivating story, with a highly charged subjects, beautifully written --based on true events, seamlessly blending fact and fiction. "Interaction with death almost always invites us to reassess how we are spending our lives, why is suicide so troubling--the persistent, unanswered questions. The ongoing questions-- when did things begin to fall apart, how did I miss it, and in what ways is there compensation by each family member, or signs ignored? There are no clean lines in a story like this, only endless shades of gray, and a lot of questions about relationships and life that are well worth asking.” ---This is why Kathryn Craft writes THE FAR END OF HAPPY.I cannot even image the emotional trauma, the guilt, the what ifs, and the persistent unanswered questions of a spouse, a family member, or a close friend of someone feeling they have nowhere to turn, utter desperation. I believe this story needed to be told, even as a work of fiction. It could provide a great help and support for families facing such despair, or early warning signs.No one likes the word “suicide” and we all tip toe around it; however, it is real. In addition, many women live in fear each day, whether domestic violence, verbal abuse, or the neediness, or insecurity of the man or woman, making them feel guilty for wanting to divorce or wanting to leave an unhealthy environment. Many women stay in marriages for their children’s sake; however, in the end, they create a more unstable situation by remaining. Or as in the case of the book, a woman is made to feel guilty and pressured not to leave with the threat of suicide. Everyone in life has choices and we are the keeper of our own lives, and cannot control others out of fear or abandonment, due to their own illness. With the crash of 2008, many families have been affected by the economy, while different people handle the same situation in a completely different way. Some are more fragile than others; however, many times they do not want help. A very controversial subject and highly commend the author for tackling and sharing this story. As the author mentions, a tragedy is always unfolding somewhere, whether we know it or not—during the time it takes to read her interview at least one more person in the US, will die at his or her own hand. The story will be relatable to many women and families and hopefully provide hope to others starting over. Even though the novel may be painful for some to read, it can be uplifting and inspirational to others.An ideal book for book clubs and discussions with many POVs. I enjoyed the honest discussion with the author and the reading group at the end, which will help readers gain new perspective about life. Now I am excited about reading her previous novel, The Art of Falling! A word to the wise, always have a lengthy conversation with the first wife (or husband), of the man (woman) you are about to spend your life with. Keep an open mind – there may be much to learn which will save you pain down the road. Don’t we all wish we could step back and know what we know now? We would be so wise! Again, thanks to the author for a special book. On a person note, I have been involved with two suicides in my life, (not immediate family); both times each of these men found themselves in a horrific situation and as things began closing in, drove them to end their lives. But what if? A first cousin in Florida, a young man with a bright future, involved in a horrible situation with a woman he met online, and later married, without being aware of her past, fell in love and became involved in an illegal scam against his own brother; he had to choose between brother and wife, which would put her away, and he an accessory to the crime. A devastated brother and the parents (my aunt and uncle) in Amelia Island, he left behind. The wife is now serving prison time and a family is without a brother and a son, due to greed and money.The next, in Atlanta, a wealthy man, owner of a large accounting firm with celebrity clients and professional football teams, private jets, country club home, and many second homes – on top of the world. A husband and father of my son’s best friend, as things began closing no one was aware of the secret scandal, accounting fraud, an affair, upcoming loss of his business, career, money, and about to face prison. A mother’s nightmare --their oldest son, college age, repeating the same suicide a year later, in the same car. It takes strength, courage, and faith for those left behind to move on and rebuild their lives.

[susan0316 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

On the day that Ronnie's husband, Jeff, is supposed to move out of the home that they share with their two sons, he shows up drunk with a shotgun and a threat to kill himself. The book takes place over the next twelve tense hours. We learn the back story of Jeff and Ronnie's marriage as well as the secrets in her mother and Jeff's mother's lives. I found the story to be very riveting. Even though much of it took place in Ronnie's mind, I could understand a lot of her feeling of ambivalence over what she should do to make everything right for herself and her sons. This was an excellent and well written book. I didn't know until the end that it was based on something that happened in the author's life. Once I realized that, it made the story even more remarkable to me. This would be a great book club read as there are many parts to it that would be great discussion points. Even if you aren't in a book club, you need to give them this a read.

[grandmacootie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Far End of Happy is intense and intimate, grabbing you from the start and not letting go. It is a novel, but it is based on events from the author’s life. She has stated, “It wasn’t long after my first husband’s suicide that I knew I’d one day make a story of it . . . .” So while it is fictionalized and she does not try to speak for anyone but herself, it has such a powerful ring of truth to it that you are mesmerized, tense, afraid to watch events unfold.This is the story of Jeff’s suicide standoff that unfolds over twelve hours of absolute horror, fear and sadness not only for his wife Ronnie but for their sons Andrew and Will, her mother Beverly and her mother-in-law, Jeff’s mother, Janet. Ronnie and Jeff have been married for a number of years but most of those years have not been happy. Who is to say who’s to blame, but Ronnie has finally decided that this is it, she is going to through with the divorce she has thought about for so long. There have been bad business decisions, failed ventures, money mismanagement, and always at the core of it is Jeff’s need to control Ronnie, to make his dreams her own, to make it clear he cannot and will not live without her. She just can’t take any more. She has lost so much of herself; she can’t lose everything that makes her Ronnie. But then a drunk Jeff pulls into the driveway and the long, horrible, unbelievable day that feels like it will never end – with all of those involved afraid of how it might end – begins.It is unlikely that most readers have been through a tragedy like this and can relate directly to Ronnie’s experience that fateful day. But The Far End of Happy sticks with you in a way you won’t forget once you’ve turned that last page. It’s not just about a man threatening to take his own life rather than lose his wife, it’s about the slow erosion of a wife’s personality, desires, dreams, about making her think she wants what he wants, about excessive drinking, spying, threatening, about subtly forcing her to make decisions and concessions that aren’t what her heart desires. And about her finally realizing she will disappear completely if she does not escape. It’s about family members with their own issues and backstories that have affected Ronnie and Jeff, about a mother who is fiercely loyal to her son and believes his choices are the only correct ones, and another mother who can’t understand why her daughter can’t just be satisfied with what she has, why she wants so much more or so much that is different. Ronnie’s case was extreme, but many women feel stuck, don’t know exactly how they got where they are but don’t think they can stay put, even if there are frightening consequences to their leaving.The Far End of Happy is a sad, sobering, gripping story about a very strong woman. Thanks to the author for providing this very well-written book that I just could not put down. I leave this review voluntary and all opinions are my own.

[eadieb-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ronnie's husband is supposed to move out today. But when Jeff pulls into the driveway drunk, with a shotgun in the front seat, she realizes nothing about the day will go as planned. Based on a real event for the author's life, it's a chilling and heartbreaking story. Craft is a great storyteller and this is one you won't forget any time soon. I'll have to check out some of her other stories.