But there’s an undercurrent of hope, whether brought on by religion or Cuban birth—
One day when she dies, she’ll see him again. She knows this with a certainty that resides in her bones.
If there is a Heaven, surely it will be this—
Five miles of seawall. Havana behind her, an ocean before her. They’ll walk hand in hand, their son between them, a trumpet playing in the background, the smell of jasmine on the air, coconut ice cream on her tongue.
But for now there’s only the sea. And beyond it, ninety miles away, a country.
Home.
How long before we return?
A year? Two?
Ojalá.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
The novel alternates between Elisa Perez’s life in Cuba in 1958 and 1959 and her granddaughter Marisol Ferrera’s trip to Cuba in 2017. Which woman did you identify with more? What parallels can you see between their personalities and their lives? What differences?
The first chapter ends with Elisa wondering how long her family will be away from Cuba. The final chapter ends over a decade later with her posing the same question. How are the themes of hope and exile illustrated in the book? How does the weight of exile affect the Perez family?
When Marisol arrives in Cuba she struggles with identifying as Cuban because she grew up in the United States and because she has never set foot on Cuban soil. How much does a physical place define one’s identity? How does Marisol’s trip alter her views about being Cuban and change her perception of herself? How do Marisol and her family attempt to keep their heritage alive in exile? Are there stories and rituals handed down through the generations in your family?
Like her grandmother, Marisol falls in love with a man who has revolutionary political leanings. What similarities can you see between Pablo’s and Luis’s dreams for Cuba? What differences are there in their worldviews? How do they go about achieving their dreams for a better Cuba?
Sacrifice is a major theme that runs throughout the novel. How do the characters make sacrifices for one another, and what are some examples of them risking their safety and security for their loved ones? How do you think you would have acted in similar situations?
Family plays an important role in the novel, and each of the characters face their own struggles in their attempts to live up to their family’s expectations. What are some examples of this? Did you identify with one character’s point of view more? Are there certain expectations in your own family? Do you feel the need to live up to them? How have they shaped your life decisions?
Elisa’s final wish is to have her ashes scattered over Cuban soil. Do you agree with her decision? Would you have wanted your ashes spread in Cuba or would you have preferred to be buried on American soil? Do you think Marisol picked the best place to spread Elisa’s ashes? Where else would you have considered scattering them? Have you scattered the ashes of a loved one? What was the experience like?
What initially attracts Elisa to Pablo? Do you believe they would have been able to overcome the differences between them if they weren’t caught in the midst of the Cuban Revolution? Or was their love fueled by the urgency of the times?
Elisa chooses to save her letters from Pablo and her memories of their romance by burying them in a box in the backyard. If you had a box in which to bury your most precious possessions, what would you choose to keep safe?
What parallels do you see between life in modern Cuba and life in pre-revolutionary Cuba? What differences?
Pablo tells Elisa that everything is political. Do you agree with him?
Despite coming from very different backgrounds, Marisol and Luis share many similarities that bring them together as a couple. What are some examples of this? Why do you think they get along so well? Do you think they are a good influence on each other?
Pablo believes that the best way to change his country is from within. Others like Elisa’s family choose to leave Cuba because they can no longer support the regime. Which approach do you identify with? What are the differences between the Cubans who remained in Cuba and those who live in exile? What are the similarities?
KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM CHANEL CLEETON’S NEXT NOVEL, FEATURING BEATRIZ PEREZ.
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Beatriz
JANUARY 1960
The thing about collecting marriage proposals is they’re much like cultivating eccentricities. One is an absolute must for being admired in polite—or slightly less-than-polite—society. Two ensure you’re a sought-after guest at parties. Three add a soup?on of mystery, four are a scandal, and five, well, five make you a legend.
I peer down at the man on bended knee in front of me—what is his name?—his body tipping precariously from an overabundance of champagne, and mentally catalogue his appeal. He’s a second cousin to the venerable Preston clan, related by marriage to a former vice president, and cousin to a sitting U.S. senator. His tuxedo is understated elegance, his fortune modest, if not optimistic, for the largesse of a bequest from a deceased aunt or an unexpected inheritance landing on his doorstep. His chin is weak from one too many Prestons marrying Prestons, his last name likely to be followed by Roman numerals.
Andrew. Maybe Albert. Adam?
We’ve met a handful of times at parties like this in Palm Beach, ones I once would have ruled over in Havana but now must bow and scrape in order to gain admittance. I could do worse than a second cousin to American royalty; after all, beggars can’t be choosers, and exiles even less so. The prudent thing would be to accept his proposal—my auspicious fifth—and to follow my sister Elisa into the sacrament of holy matrimony.
But where’s the fun in that?
Whispers brush against my gown. I feel the weight of curious gazes on my back, some more malevolent than others, and the words clawing their way up my skirt, snatching the faux jewels from my neck and casting them to the ground.
Look at her.
Haughty. The whole family is. Someone should tell them this isn’t Cuba.
Those hips. That dress.
Didn’t they lose everything? Fidel Castro nationalized all those sugar fields her father used to own.
Has she no shame?
Perhaps it would be different if we were men, if we weren’t threats to the marital prospects of their friends, nieces, or daughters. If we slid seamlessly into the social fabric they’ve created here.
But we aren’t men, and our sex too often has a particular affinity for hitting where it hurts. With a look, we are dismissed, some indescribable quality identifying us as different, as separate from the society we’ve fled to. We’re treated as cuckoos in a nest, as though our presence here will only serve to snatch up the limited marital resources and steal some of the spotlight that is apparently in meager supply in Palm Beach. The truth is, they can keep their prospective husbands; I’ve little use for men these days.
My smile widens, brightening, flashier than the fake jewels at my neck and just as sincere. I lift my chin an inch and scan the crowd, sweeping past Alexander on his knees, looking like a man who hasn’t quite acquired his sea legs, past the Palm Beach guard shooting daggers my way. My gaze rests on my sisters Isabel and Elisa, standing in the corner, deep in conversation, flutes of champagne in hand. Elisa’s husband hovers nearby in that protective way of his. She might no longer be a Perez in name, but the sight of them, the reminder to bow to nothing and no one . . .
I turn back to Alistair.
“Thank you, but I fear I must decline.”