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What's it like to live in a vacation spot when tourists leave? 'Wait' offers a window

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What's it like to live in a vacation spot when tourists leave? 'Wait' offers a window
Cover of Wait

Thomas Wolfe famously titled one of his novels You Can’t Go Home Again. It’s something to keep in mind when reading Gabriella Burnham’s Wait, in which a mother and daughter experience two very different homecomings after years away. Both come to see the birthplaces they left in their late teens in new light.

Burnham’s second novel is not the breezy beach read you might expect from its Nantucket setting and the classic shingle-style shorefront house on its cover. Instead of a summer frolic, what we have here is a coming-of-age story set against a backdrop of stark economic disparity. Wait features a less well-known Nantucket, a millionaires’ vacationland whose year-round residents, some of them undocumented, struggle to pay high rents and make ends meet, especially during the slack off-season when local service businesses like landscaping, housekeeping, and restaurants go on hiatus.

The novel begins on the eve of its main character’s graduation from college, where she’s majored in environmental studies. Due to financial constraints, Elise has not been back home to Nantucket since she left for North Carolina four years ago. She’s excited that her mother, Gilda, and her 18-year-old sister, Sophie, are coming to celebrate this milestone with her.

But after a night of partying on campus with her wealthy best friend, Elise awakens to alarming news from her sister: Their mother has gone missing. She never showed up for the ferry, the first stage of their long trip to Chapel Hill.

Gilda, who left Brazil more than two decades earlier, is a cook who puts in 70-hour weeks during Nantucket’s high season in order to support her two American-born daughters. The girls’ father, an Irish bartender whom Gilda met soon after her arrival on Nantucket, headed back to Ireland without a trace when the girls were young.

We soon learn that Gilda, who’d let her last visa lapse 18 years earlier during her rough second pregnancy, was intercepted on her way to the Hyannis ferry by ICE agents and deported, “subject to expedited removal.” An ICE official, it turns out, had been monitoring Gilda’s social media accounts, which tipped the agency off about her plans to leave the island in order to attend her daughter’s college graduation.

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Gilda lands back in Brazil at her half-sister’s home, shaken and worried about her daughters. The girls field her frantic calls, often en route to their low-wage summer jobs. Whatever else one might say about Gilda, she has clearly done a good job raising her two daughters, who are excellent students and diligent workers. Sophie, just out of high school, takes on extra shifts at a local upscale café, where she remains unflappable in the face of demanding customers’ complicated orders for fancy coffees. Elise returns to her pre-college summer job monitoring endangered wildlife on a remote stretch of protected shoreline. Fledging plovers become a lovely symbol for how the resourceful women in this family take flight.

When Elise’s college friend Sheba arrives at the summer estate that her two high-powered, socially connected moms have recently inherited from her grandfather, it at first feels like an answered prayer to the sisters’ mounting housing worries.

In an interview with her publisher, Burnham spoke of her firsthand knowledge of housing insecurity on this island of multimillion dollar mansions that sit empty for most of the year: When she was in high school, her family was evicted from their rental home, and she and her sister were placed in foster care. Her mother, like Gilda, was from Brazil and worked in Nantucket kitchens, though she was not deported. Burnham’s familiarity with Brazil enriches both Wait and her first novel, It Is Wood, It Is Stone, about an anxious American woman’s relationship with her grounded Brazilian housekeeper when she moves to Sao Paulo for her husband’s job.

Set during a uniquely stressful summer for Gilda and her daughters, Wait highlights the strong bonds between the three of them. Burnham also probes various friendships, as well as relationships between summer residents and year-rounders on the island.

In contrast to the sisters, Sheba is a woefully unsympathetic character. Her role in the novel is to drive home the familiar point that material riches can be spiritually impoverishing and that financial security doesn’t protect against emotional insecurity. Sheba’s jealousy of Elise’s relationship with Sophie and her petulant sense of entitlement provide too sharp a contrast to the sisters’ caring connection and purposeful lives. It strains credulity that sensible Elise would be drawn to her for so long. Would she be if Sheba weren’t so rich? “Promise you love me for more my than my house?” Sheba says pathetically after she has behaved particularly obnoxiously.

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Burnham’s assured narrative pulls us along, although some peculiar word choices give pause: “a cascade of pasta,” “the accomplishment” of Sheba’s mothers’ room, “a stroll of emotion loitering inside her.”

Yet, quibbles aside, Wait movingly tackles serious issues in one of America’s premier vacation spots. It is a commendable accomplishment.

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From political dysfunction to America's oldest ballpark, add these podcasts to your playlist

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From political dysfunction to America's oldest ballpark, add these podcasts to your playlist

Connecticut Public Radio; WBUR; NPR; LAist Studios; WQXR; WWNO & WRKF


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Connecticut Public Radio; WBUR; NPR; LAist Studios; WQXR; WWNO & WRKF

Podcast tile art for In Absentia, from Connecticut Public Radio; Last Seen, from WBUR; The Students’ Podcast, from NPR; Inheriting, from LAist Studios; If This Hall Could Talk, from WQXR; Road to Rickwood, from WWNO & WRKF.

Connecticut Public Radio; WBUR; NPR; LAist Studios; WQXR; WWNO & WRKF

It’s officially summer, and that means it’s time to update your poolside playlist. The NPR One team has road trip-approved podcasts recommendations from across public media.

The podcast episode descriptions below are from podcast webpages and have been edited for brevity and clarity.

Inheriting — LAist

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 Podcast tile art for Inheriting, from LAist.

Japanese American Incarceration. The Third World Liberation Front. The 1992 Los Angeles Uprising. What you think you know isn’t always the full story. “Inheriting” is a show about Asian American and Pacific Islander families that explores how the past is personal. Hosted by NPR’s Emily Kwong, we go deep with families on how their most personal, private moments are part of history.

Start listening to, “Carol & the Los Angeles Uprising: Part 1.”

Embodied — WUNC

 Podcast tile art for Embodied, from WUNC.

A gender transition is a moment of personal flux that can also have a big impact on a romantic relationship. Anita meets two couples who continued to choose each other after one partner came out as trans: a South African couple in their 20s and an American couple who went through a transition after 22 years of marriage.Meet the guests:- Summer Tao and Lucy Aalto, partners and freelance writers in South Africa, describe the unexpected ways in which Summer’s transition brought them closer together and share advice to couples who may be at the beginning of their own queer journeys – Kate and Patty Redman, wife and wife in Missouri, reflect on changes to their sex life, social circles and religious ties when Kate came out as trans after two decades of marriage.

Listen to “Transitioned: When One Partner Comes Out As Trans.”

In Absentia — Connecticut Public Radio

 Podcast tile art for In Absentia, from Connecticut Public Radio.

Connecticut Public Radio

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Connecticut Public Radio

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Why does political dysfunction happen? What are the systems that enable it? This four-part investigation looks for answers in Bridgeport, Connecticut, where corruption charges, allegations of absentee ballot misconduct, and machine politics have left some residents wondering if their vote even matters.

Start listening to part one, “Wiretapped.”

HumaNature – Wyoming Public Media

 Podcast tile art for HumaNature, from Wyoming Public Media.

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Wyoming Public Media

HumaNature is the podcast that explores where humans and our habitat meet. The show tells real stories about human experiences in nature. Along the way, we’ll meet people whose encounters help us reflect on our own place in the natural world.

Eric Keeler had a good life, but he was bored. So he decided to shake things up and run across America by himself. Follow his journey from Maine to California on this week’s episode.

Listen to “The Running Man.”

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If This Hall Could Talk — WQXR

 Podcast tile art for If This Hall Could Talk, from WQXR.

If This Hall Could Talk tells the story of culture in America as witnessed at one iconic venue: New York City’s Carnegie Hall. It’s long been a destination for the world’s top musical talents, speakers, activists, and with a history spanning more than 100 years. Objects from the Carnegie Hall Rose Archives tell a complicated and quirky history of the hall showcasing the creation, development and celebration of uniquely American historical moments and music. Each episode features an object from the collections of Carnegie Hall’s Rose Archives and uses it as the starting point for stories of broader musical, cultural, and political significance. Hosted by Broadway star Jessica Vosk, the show brings in voices ranging from marquee talent to historical experts, guiding listeners on a journey that is guaranteed to leave them with a newfound appreciation for the breadth, diversity, and endless invention of the country’s musical arts and culture.

Listen to “Judy Garland’s Autographed Album Cover.”

Road to Rickwood — WWNO & WRKF

 Podcast tile art for Road to Rickwood, from WWNO & WRKF.

In June, MLB will host a game at Rickwood Field in Birmingham, AL. In its 114-year history, the field has seen everything from segregated baseball, a women’s suffrage event, a Klan rally and the first integrated sports team in Alabama. Host Roy Wood Jr. speaks with historians, former Negro Leaguers and more to explore how Birmingham’s civil rights story played out at America’s oldest ballpark.

Start listening to, “The Holy Grail of Baseball.”

Last Seen — WBUR

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Hundreds of people donated their bodies to Harvard Medical School hoping to advance science and train the next generation of doctors. Meanwhile, prosecutors say that for years, the school’s morgue manager treated it like a storefront, letting potential customers browse body parts and bringing home skin and brains to be shipped out to people across the country. Last year’s arrest of the morgue manager, Cedric Lodge, exposed a nationwide network of human remains swapping that ensnared Harvard and lay bare the school’s broken promises to donors. In this five-part narrative series, host and reporter Ally Jarmanning explains what happened at Harvard, talks to donor families about their interrupted grief, and meets with human remains collectors to find out why they’re interested in this macabre field. We explore the dark origins of our nation’s medical schools. And we try to answer the haunting questions that drive the series: How should we treat the dead? And who gets to decide?

Start listening to part one, “Postmortem Ep. 1: The crime.”

Backed Up — WVXU

 Podcast tile art for Backed Up, from WVXU.

There’s something wrong with the plumbing in Cincinnati. Sewage is bubbling up in our basements and pouring into our waterways. Climate change is making it worse, and the powers that be can’t seem to agree on how to fix it. Backed Up is a podcast that demystifies one of the most complex systems of public infrastructure — our sewers — and tells the stories of the people suffering under decades of mismanagement.

Start listening to, “Episode 1: Sewers Gonna Sue.”

Let The Kids Dance! — KUOW

 Podcast tile art for Let The Kids Dance!, from KUOW.

Seattle in the 90s: A tidal wave of unforgettable music roars out of the city. Nirvana, Soundgarden and Pearl Jam take over global pop culture and Seattle is declared the world’s coolest place to be. But here, reality is different for young people.For almost two decades, the Teen Dance Ordinance has made it illegal for anyone under 18 to attend concerts without a parent or guardian. Police raid punk shows and hip-hop clubs. Politicians ban show posters on electric poles. All-ages music is criminalized. And young people begin to fight back.Let the Kids Dance! is a seven-part docuseries chronicling an untold chapter of pop-culture history. It’s a story about moral panic, grassroots activism and an unstoppable music community that fought for its freedom.

Start listening to “Part 1: City Gone Crazy.”

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The Runcast with John Richards — KEXP

 Podcast tile art for The Runcast with John Richards, from KEXP.

On our first Runcast of 2024, John spotlights how dangerous it can be for women and female identifying runners to simply go out for a run, and what it means to be a good ally. Soundtracking this run is a powerful range of artists, from Empress Of and AURORA to Hana Vu and Beth Gibbons. Middle Kids – Bend Brimheim – No Liver, No Lungs GEMZ – Younger Salt Cathedral – Terminal Woes Empress Of – Femenine Ibibio Sound Machine – Mama Say AURORA – Some Type of Skin Tinsley – Distract Me Hana Vu – Hammer Blondshell – Docket (feat. Bully) Star Anna – Pure Magic Gustaf – Starting and Staring Bad Bad Hats – Meter Run Beth Gibbons – Floating On A Moment.

Listen to “The “Be An Ally” Runcast.”

The Students’ Podcast — NPR

 Podcast tile art for The Students' Podcast, from NPR.

NPR’s Jessica Green and Jack Mitchell curated and produced this piece.

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Lifestyle

L.A. Affairs: We moved from New York in a doughnut truck. Would L.A. offer new adventures?

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L.A. Affairs: We moved from New York in a doughnut truck. Would L.A. offer new adventures?

We drove up a steep hill in our packed doughnut food truck to see our new house in Glassell Park for the first time. But we weren’t prepared for the stress of that hillside drive. Who knew that such pockets of treacherous roads existed just east of the 2 Freeway?

This was a different level of driving stress than we had ever encountered on New York City or New Jersey roads. There, people whizzed by while holding the horn. Or the wrong lane would take you to a different state. But here in L.A., every turn we made led to a new hazard: a blind curve with a speeding Tesla coming down the other side; a gardener’s pickup truck with protruding tools parked to the side but still taking up half the road; low branches that swatted the top of the truck and then snapped back to spank us in the rear. Wait, this street is two lanes?

I gripped the door, mouth tight, barely breathing. When we finally parked the bright blue doughnut truck in our new driveway, my husband turned to me and said, “Oh man, my butt was clenched that entire time.”

Jersey City to Los Angeles. That was the journey I’d made with Dan, my husband of six years, with his mini-doughnut catering truck as our moving vehicle. We’d park and leave all our belongings alone overnight. I wondered if the truck would make our mattress and towels smell the way Dan did when he came home after working — the greasy sweetness of fried dough and powdered sugar. But the smells didn’t have that much time to sink in. We did it fast.

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October 2020 didn’t feel like the time for dilly-dallying with our things in tow, encased in a glaring wrap of — I’ll call it cerulean — with raining sprinkles and the words “Glazed & Confused” plastered around a big pink doughnut.

Our first days here were spent in 92-degree late October (welcome to L.A.!) breaking down boxes in the sun. Our home was coming into focus — not just the house, the place.

After 12 years of being in New York City, I felt unmoored. I didn’t realize right away that the life I was building there was a transient one. Although I had been born, raised and educated in Southern California, I felt I had to go to that hectic place to find myself. What I found was pain and stress and a blue-eyed scruffy Italian guy from North Jersey.

After three years together, we were married in Santa Monica, showing our loved ones that Southern California was home base, even if I didn’t yet understand that. California inspired our next chapter too. While honeymooning in Sonoma, we saw a farmers market stand that made hot bite-sized doughnuts to order. It sparked an idea in Dan. My home state was bearing witness to the biggest moments of our life together.

But after the wedding, we went back to where we lived, and I was reminded of my failures. I had moved to New York after college to pursue a career in writing only for my goals to coincide with the 2008 financial crisis. Then, barely a year later, my sister died of complications from Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The days there felt dull and rote, like life was playing in a pre-Oz black-and-white.

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While I was pivoting careers and starting a psychotherapy practice, Dan was tiring of 80-hour workweeks managing Manhattan Cold Stone franchises. He sought to build a business on his own terms. He conceived of a food truck catering company that would serve those little doughnuts, fresh and warm in a tray topped with bits and bobs in combinations called S’mores or Salted Caramel Pretzel. Glazed & Confused was born.

As Dan’s business grew, mine sputtered. The depression I had been riddled with in adolescence — where it’s so impossible to imagine having a future that you give up on creating one — had returned in a new adult form. Looking at Dan’s truck, I felt the void in the center of that pink doughnut glaring at me and saying, “There’s a piece missing.” I realized my New York life was Limbo, a suspended place and time marked by loss.

So I started planting the seed. What if we moved to L.A.?

I wasn’t sure it would work. As a therapist, I know that leaving a place doesn’t leave your struggles behind. But if my struggle was about belonging and moving forward with building a life, then I couldn’t deny where I was rooted and where I want to build. As soon as we crossed into California, I felt relief from succumbing to the magnetic pull of home. My hunch was right. We needed to be here, and this truck had brought us.

But now, would Dan come to feel unmoored? He had been born, raised and educated on the East Coast. What if I had doomed him to what I had endured back east?

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In a marriage, it can be easy to forget our different emotional realities. Just to be safe, I blanketed Dan in my community, my parents, school friends and cousins who embraced him. I researched the best pizza and bagels in L.A., and we frequented Pizzeria Sei, Shins and Belle’s Bagels so that he wouldn’t feel deprived of his cherished comforts. Turns out, L.A. pizza and bagels can win over a Jersey boy.

As I felt joy looking out the window at the tips of the Dodger Stadium palm trees and the U.S. Bank building, I saw him become taken by the light and color of our hills and sky. Every morning, I’d catch him staring out the window at the glow over that 2 Freeway. I could see him feeling the pride I feel about L.A.

Sometimes I don’t feel I deserve this feeling of contentment. But also, maybe, I’d been through enough. After all, it wasn’t easy: it took a 3,000-mile, 13-year detour to get on the right path — all thanks to a cerulean doughnut truck covered in sprinkles.

The author is a writer and therapist who writes screenplays, nonfiction narratives and critical essays. She was a 2023 script competition finalist at the Austin Film Festival. She lives in Glassell Park. She’s on Instagram: @pallaviyetur

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

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Which celebrity's mugshot set the internet ablaze this week? Find out in the quiz

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Which celebrity's mugshot set the internet ablaze this week? Find out in the quiz

Shaina Taub of Suffs, Team USA’s Jamal Hill, former President George Washington.

Theo Wargo/Getty Images for Tony Awards Productions; Charles Sykes/Invision/AP; Three Lions/Getty Images


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Theo Wargo/Getty Images for Tony Awards Productions; Charles Sykes/Invision/AP; Three Lions/Getty Images

Thursday was the earliest solstice in more than 200 years, punctuated by a Stonehenge glow down. Speaking of, a celebrity named Justin (but which one?!) also got a glow down, captured for eternity by the Sag Harbor Police Department.

So, will your score glow up or glow down? Find out … now!

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