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Breathing Room

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Overview

In her dazzling debut novel, award-winning author Patricia Elam takes us into the lives of two completely different women whose friendship has helped them weather just about everything. But now they're at a crossroads where understanding may not be enough -- a place where they must risk it all to rediscover what they cherish most.Photographer Norma Simmons-Greer has a loving husband, a lively young son, and an upper-middle-class lifestyle. Probation officer Moxie Dilliard is as dedicated to her ideals as she is to her talented teenage daughter, Zadi. Best friends after meeting in college, Norma and Moxie are each other's reality check and reassurance. But suddenly the bond between them begins to unravel in unexpected ways. Anguished over the loss of her second child and her husband's recent withdrawal, Norma takes refuge in a complex love affair that puts her at odds with Moxie -- and with herself. Haunted by her beloved mother's inspiring yet disturbing emotional legacy, Moxie struggles to understand her friend, while her own refusal to compromise threatens to shatter her relationship with Zadi.

Editorial Reviews

The evolving relationship between two African-American women forms the centerpiece of this spirited, fluidly written debut novel set in contemporary Washington, D.C. Norma Simmons-Greer and Moxie Dillard have been friends since student days at Howard University. When the stress of being a good mother is exacerbated by the emotional withdrawal of her husband, Lawrence, Norma seeks comfort in her photography studio, where she meets and begins an affair with a white professor. Divorced Moxie, meanwhile, is raising her teenage daughter, Zadi, with the same zeal she puts into her work as a probation officer for adolescents. She is firm on discipline, and vocally supports black issues at the predominantly white private school where Zadi's father sends the girl. When Moxie learns of Norma's interracial affair, she is deeply offended and the women become estranged. The Moxie/Norma story line, while absorbing, is eclipsed by Zadi's endearingly straight-up diary entries. Obsessed by her maturing body, auditioning for the Dance Theatre of Harlem and trying not to be the last of her girlfriends left on the "V" (virgin) train, Zadi steals the show as a teen straddling the privileged world of her white schoolmates and the wanna-be thug lifestyle of her secret boyfriend, Octavius, who is one of Moxie's clients. (Elam thanks several young adults from a high school writing program for contributing to Zadi's voice.) The sensitive handling of volatile topics (interracial affairs, teen drug use and dealing, and the loss of virginity) add immediacy to what is an affecting story of sisterhood. Agent, Molly Friedrich. (Jan. 9) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.

Author Information

Bio of Patricia Elam

Patricia Elam is a Washington, DC-based freelance writer and commentator. Her fiction and non-fiction has been published in The Washington Post, Newsday, Mid-American Review, Essence, Emerge, and Epoch magazines. Her work has also appeared in anthologies including Father's Songs and New Stories form the South.She has been a commentator for NPR, NBC News, CNN, the BBC, and Wisconsin Public Radio. She won an O. Henry Award in 1997.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Atria

Filesize

642.23 KB

Number of Pages

352

eBook ISBN

9780743419468

Awards

  • Hurston/Wright Legacy Award

Excerpt from: Breathing Room by Patricia Elam

He sleeps deeply, turned on his side with an arm draped across her shoulders. His slow exhaling crescendos to a jagged mixture of snorts and labored breaths. Norma wishes she could sleep as comfortably. She feels the weight of his elbow on her back and eases out from under his grasp.

She raises herself and sits close to the edge of the bed, which they never bothered to unmake, and examines her state of disarray. Her bra dangles from her shoulder, held by one intact strap. Her right breast, the one his mouth latched onto first, is exposed. She smiles at the memory and closes her eyes, trying to experience it all again. When she stands, a smoldering ache below her waist makes her wince.

In the bathroom, she adjusts her bra, lifting her heavy breasts up from where breastfeeding dropped them. She crosses her arms beneath, as she examines her body in the baroque mirror. She's gained weight this past year but doesn't harbor guilt about dropping the t'ai chi class or being a stranger at the fitness center she joined with lofty intentions. Her stomach is actually the only part of her form she is displeased with. The flesh immediately above and below her navel is creased and wrinkled like a huge prune, the reward of two C-sections -- yet only one child.

A church bell chimes twice, sharp and clanging, startling her. She can't even imagine where there is a church nearby; the sound must travel quite a distance. She wants to wake up Woody. Half the day is gone and she still has to make major decisions about her first solo photography exhibit next month. She's unsure whether there should be an overall theme or just a smorgasbord of past and present work. Several assignments, in various stages of completion, also loom before her, and she doesn't want to wait until the last minute.

Coming to this hotel room was not originally in the day's plan, at least not for her. She and Moxie had talked about possibly getting together for lunch today. It's not that she's elevated trysting with Woody above lunching with her best friend. Moxie simply wasn't in when Norma tried to reach her. And then Woody called and suggested they meet at "our" hotel, as he referred to it because it would be their third visit. The Holiday Inn is near Union Station, not too far from Catholic University, where Woody teaches, or from Norma's Capitol Hill studio loft and the gallery where Norma had been earlier, checking on the available wall space.

It is the day before New Year's Eve, and there are several large signs announcing the hotel's scheduled festivities. The lobby is strung with gold wreaths and potted poinsettias grace every available flat surface. Woody and Norma had to wait several minutes to be seated in the restaurant. All the tables were filled by people in business attire or tourists with cameras dangling from their necks. Waiters in black vests and white shirts bustled about, balancing trays and half smiles. After only a few bites of the smothered chicken, Woody gently pressed his knee against hers under the table. When she looked up at him he said, "I want to kiss you badly. Let's get a room."

"Sure you have time " she had asked, coyly.

"Yes. I'm still on winter break, remember I've got papers and exams to grade, but I have time for you."

"Aren't you going to ask if I have time -- or don't you think my time is valuable " she responded, half-serious.