PRAISE FOR
The Floating Feldmans
“An irresistible drama filled with humor and heart-tugging emotion about family and what it means to belong. I absolutely adore Friedland’s warm, witty writing!”
—Emily Giffin, #1 New York Times bestselling author of All We Ever Wanted
“Uproariously funny yet heartfelt and true, The Floating Feldmans will have each reader seeing her own family fun and foibles in the choppy waters, laughing and crying at the same time to the very last wonderful page.”
—Pam Jenoff, New York Times bestselling author of The Lost Girls of Paris
“An intelligent, insightful, touching novel about the secrets we keep and the family that loves us anyway.”
—Abbi Waxman, author of The Bookish Life of Nina Hill
“Elyssa Friedland’s premise is perfect. Take three generations of an estranged family, put them on a boat—a forced cruise to celebrate the matriarch’s seventieth birthday—and let the dysfunction fly. A pleasure to read.”
—Laurie Gelman, author of Class Mom
“Such a smart, honest look at the modern American family. Elyssa Friedland has written a book that feels both up-to-the-minute contemporary and, somehow, absolutely timeless.”
—Matthew Norman, author of We’re All Damaged and Domestic Violets
“All aboard! The Floating Feldmans is for everyone who’s ever thought their family is absolutely crazy . . . but loves them anyway. Sibling rivalries and skeletons in the closet all come to a head in this fun, quirky family saga.”
—Georgia Clark, author of The Bucket List
“Poignant and hilarious with a huge heart. In The Floating Feldmans, Friedland perfectly captures the dysfunctional family dynamics we all know too well.”
—Carola Lovering, author of Tell Me Lies
PRAISE FOR
The Intermission
“The snappy dialogue makes this an effortless page-turner, almost a movie treatment more than a novel. . . . Intelligent commercial fiction.”
—The Wall Street Journal
“The Intermission is a thoughtful look at the complexities of marriage, delivering deep truths about how we share a life with another person. It will have you wondering: How well do I really know my spouse?”
—PopSugar
“A multifaceted look at the difficulties and rewards of marriage.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Entertaining marriage saga. . . . Friedland insightfully dissects motives, lies, and love in this engrossing deconstruction of a bad marriage.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Expertly paced and eerily realistic, this novel will make readers think twice about the line between deception and mystery in any relationship.”
—Booklist
“This fast-paced read will have you turning pages all night to see if Cass and Jonathan will be able to save their marriage.”
—The Salisbury Daily Times
“In a time when open relationships and other less traditional dynamics are becoming more common, this is a fun beach read that explores the many ways we can love and be loved.”
—mindbodygreen
“We all know that relationships aren’t always what they seem on the outside. But The Intermission takes things a step further, going inside of a marriage that’s on the rocks. It’s about Jonathan and Cass, a husband and wife that decide to take a six-month break from their relationship to see if it’s what they really want. As we all know, there are two sides to every story. And through alternating perspectives, The Intermission delivers both.”
—HelloGiggles
“Through her wonderful writing and pitch-perfect storytelling, Elyssa Friedland examines how far we would or should go to salvage a marriage. This book is smart, tender, and thought-provoking. I loved it.”
—Allison Winn Scotch, New York Times bestselling author of Between Me and You
“With precision and empathy, Elyssa Friedland offers a fresh take on a timeless question: Just how honest should you really be with your spouse? The Intermission is a smart, moving, and refreshingly candid examination of the way small omissions can lead to enormous rifts in a marriage. I couldn’t put it down.”
—Camille Pagán, bestselling author of Woman Last Seen in Her Thirties
“Friedland’s engaging characters and smart writing style will hook you from the first page. Soulful and bittersweet, The Intermission puts a young couple under a microscope to show how one small crack in a marriage can lead to many crevasses, and how the struggle to put the pieces back together can seem insurmountable.”
—Julie Lawson Timmer, author of Mrs. Saint and the Defectives
“The Intermission deftly pulls apart the puzzle of one couple’s marriage and lays the pieces bare, posing the question: Would you walk away from your marriage in order to save it? A provocative, insightful look at the intricacies of marriage, the role of fate, and the unpredictable nature of love.”
—Jamie Brenner, bestselling author of The Husband Hour
“Smart, captivating, and expertly crafted, The Intermission takes a fresh spin on how one couple hits the pause button to reboot their marriage. I cheered and I cringed through their rises and falls as they dealt with the obstacles in their marriage to rediscover themselves and their relationship. A delightful read that sucked me in. Perfect for book clubs and summer reading. I highly recommend.”
—Wall Street Journal bestselling author Kerry Lonsdale
“With all the drama and intensity of live theater, Elyssa Friedland puts a seemingly solid marriage on display—and through the toughest of tests—revealing quirky flaws, unraveling dark secrets, and sparking emotions from tenderness to fury. Fans of Sarah Dunn and Taylor Jenkins Reid will relish the raw honesty and high-stakes tension as the pasts of Cass and Jonathan come roaring into the present.”
—Amy Poeppel, author of Limelight
“A pitch-perfect beach read that pulls back the curtain on what really happens after we say I do.”
—Jo Piazza, bestselling author of Charlotte Walsh Likes to Win
“The Intermission digs into the bedrock of the Coynes’ marriage, exposing the strengths and vulnerabilities of its roots. Friedland builds characters who are both selfless and selfish at different times, resulting in a relatable and compelling read. Book clubs will have much to dissect.”
—Abby Fabiaschi, author of I Liked My Life
“Taking a pause to dissect what makes a marriage tick is terrifying, enlightening, and, in the case of Cass Coyne, even hilarious. . . . With observations both acute and quirky, Elyssa Friedland points out the flaws and perfections that make marriage work, the secrets they contain, and how a desire for total honesty can bring both pain and freedom.”
—Maureen Sherry, author of Opening Belle
“A courageous and clever look at the frustrations and disappointments even the best marriages face. Elyssa Friedland pulls no punches with this provocative story that challenges our expectations about commitment and love.”
—Lynda Cohen Loigman, author of The Two-Family House
“I absolutely loved The Intermission, a smart, thoughtful exploration of the nature of marriage and relationships.”
—Brenda Janowitz, author of The Dinner Party
Also by Elyssa Friedland
THE INTERMISSION
BERKLEY
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
1745 Broadway, New York, NY 10019
Copyright © 2019 by Elyssa Friedland
Excerpt from The Intermission
copyright © 2018 by Elyssa Friedland
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
BERKLEY and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Friedland, Elyssa, author.
Title: The floating Feldmans / Elyssa Friedland.
Description: First Edition. | New York: Berkley, 2019.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018045418 | ISBN 9780399586897 (pbk.) | ISBN 9780399586903 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Dysfunctional families—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3606.R55522 F56 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018045418
First Edition: July 2019
Cover design and illustration by Adam Auerbach
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
For Charlie, Lila, and Sam, my Floating Friedlings
CONTENTS
Praise for Elyssa Friedland
Also by Elyssa Friedland
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Part I: The CallChapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part II: Sea LegsChapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Part III: Terra FirmaChapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from The Intermission
About the Author
It started with a shriek. Then a series of gasps. Finally, from somewhere deep in the room, came a chorus of “Fight, fight, fight!” The chant quickly grew in volume, and suddenly it seemed like everyone was shouting for blood.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention!” Julian Masterino attempted to calm the chaos for a third time, but he was no match for the angry rabble. From his perch on the bandstand, they looked like a swarm of flies, circling and buzzing in a cacophonous roar. Normally Julian’s uniform, a fitted white sailor’s jumper and his ever-present megaphone, was enough to will a hush over a rambunctious crowd. But tonight, in a black tuxedo, he blended in with everyone else on the ship. To make matters worse, the volume lever on his megaphone was broken. Meanwhile, babies wailed in high chairs, the elderly guests whined from motorized scooters, and the able-bodied adults dashed about in their formal wear vying for a better look at the crime scene. The leader of the barbershop quartet, the evening’s opening act, gazed desperately at Julian from under his bowler hat and plucked a few helpless chords in C on his banjo. Julian gave him the universal symbol for “not now,” a quick slash to the neck, and he quieted down.
The paramedic team skidded onto the dance floor, propelled into the scrum of people by the weight of equipment they probably wouldn’t need. To Julian’s practiced eye, the two gentlemen who had, moments earlier, been throwing punches at each other were not the sort of people for whom violence was a preferred method of conflict resolution. They were amateurs at best—and the injuries they had sustained were undoubtedly more to their psyches than physical. Still, the older guy was on the ground, blood running from his nose. It was time to clear the room.
But how could it be done? Julian was a seasoned pro, but even he had never tried a last-minute relocation of three thousand hungry diners. Short of an iceberg, he’d never envisioned a scenario that would require such a thing. And now, faced with a ship full of guests determined to ignore his instructions, there weren’t a lot of good options left. Julian could think of only one surefire way to regain command of his people. Throwing caution to the wind, he reached for his megaphone and pressed firmly on the talk button.
“Attention, all guests aboard the Ocean Queen. The main buffet and all-night ice cream bar on the Starboard Deck will be closed until further notice.”
A shocked hush immediately dropped over the crowd, and Julian smiled to himself.
“That’s not fair,” complained an anguished mother of three. “My kids are still hungry!”
Hungry? On average, passengers aboard the Ocean Queen consumed six thousand calories per day, sitting down to no less than five full meals. The midmorning “snack” consisted of pastries, a full salad bar, and a taco station. Afternoon tea was the least dainty meal Julian had ever laid eyes on. Instead of finger sandwiches and bite-size lemon tarts, the kitchen staff put out twelve-foot loaves of streusel from which the guests could hack off as much as they liked. And, as far as Julian could tell, they liked a lot of streusel.
“This is an all-inclusive ship,” barked a burly fellow who stood to the left of the bandstand. He had accessorized his tuxedo with a bolo tie and cowboy hat and was already working his way through a plate piled high with meat. “And we all know you save the best food for the formal night!”
Julian was prepared to promise an impromptu chocolate fountain and make-your-own-sushi opportunity, if only everyone would exit in an orderly fashion. But before he could position his megaphone, an attractive older woman stood up and addressed the crowd. She had been crouching on the floor, tending to the more senior of the two bloodied combatants—the sad-faced man who was now cradling his knee. Julian couldn’t help but admire the way the woman presented herself: She wore a beautiful blue satin gown that stretched forgivingly across her wide hips and her hair was swept into a precise chignon.
“What is wrong with you people?” she shouted, her voice impressive and thunderous. “From the minute you woke up this morning, you’ve been stuffing your faces, pushing and shoving in the buffet lines like you’ve never seen a croissant before. Get a grip on yourselves. My husband was just punched in the face by my son-in-law, who has apparently hated our family for the past twenty years.”
“That’s not true,” said the other erstwhile combatant in a breathy voice as he was lifted onto a stretcher by the paramedics. This second, younger man was obviously the bitter son-in-law. “It’s just . . . you guys . . . acting juvenile . . . and I . . .”
“You do not need to defend
yourself!” belted a younger woman in a pink dress who stood beside the man’s stretcher. She stared daggers at the ballsy lady in the blue satin and said, “Mitch has nothing to apologize for, Mother.”
Holy hell. A dueling mother-daughter ensemble was certainly not needed on the night that was meant to be the crescendo of the trip, the black-tie party known as An Enchanted Evening, which would set the tone for how generous the guests would be when parceling out gratuities. And if they weren’t opening their wallets widely, Julian would be hearing about it from everyone on the staff, from the lifeguards down to the porters, the whole crew blaming him for not keeping the guests happy.
“Everyone, listen to the cruise director, and get off of this deck now,” yelled the mother. Then the daughter chimed in: “You will be fed. You will have your formal night. You will be ‘enchanted,’ for heaven’s sake. Just let the doctors attend to my husband in peace.”
“Mom? Elise? What the hell is going on?” asked a middle-aged man as he pushed through the crowd. The newcomer had graying hair tied in a bun, and, as Julian couldn’t help noticing, his outfit did not conform to the night’s dress code requirement. He was tugging on the hand of a human Barbie doll teetering along in four-inch heels. Julian blinked twice. This overly made-up girl wearing a dress that could have doubled as an Ace bandage was none other than the amazing yogini he’d met in Ashtanga class earlier that day.
A picture was forming in Julian’s mind. This was the Feldman family. He vaguely remembered chatting with them at the around-the-world dinner the night before, and he’d seen the daughter—her name was Elise—just hours earlier in the coffee shop. They were all on board to celebrate a big birthday. If memory served him correctly, they were vacationing together in honor of the matriarch in blue.
Julian hated to see things like this happen on one of his trips, and not just because it meant reduced gratuities and filing extra paperwork with the corporate office. It truly broke his heart when a family with grand plans to bond and share quality time was reduced to blows and name-calling. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. And it wouldn’t be the last. Maybe it was the fact that passengers on cruise vacations were sequestered from the outside world—and that submerged feelings were bound to surface whenever people volunteered to isolate themselves. Or maybe it was the consistent low-level nausea they experienced at sea that activated bad behavior. Julian had one theory, originally espoused by the ship’s previous captain, that involved those motion sickness patches everyone stuck behind their ears: He posited that they actually worked like hearing aids, amplifying all the irritations that normally went unnoticed.
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