I was two glasses of rosé into a Friday night, finishing up a logo revision for a client who keeps asking me to "make it pop" (sir, I will make YOU pop), and I needed something soft to listen to. Something that wouldn't demand too much but might sneak up on me emotionally. Surfside Sisters showed up in my queue and I thought — Nantucket, best friends, a messy homecoming? Yeah. That's the energy.
And look. This book delivered exactly what it promised. Not more, not less. Which is both its charm and its limitation.
The Kind of Book You Pack in Your Beach Bag and Don't Feel Bad About
Keely Green leaves Nantucket, becomes a bestselling novelist in New York, dates a pediatric surgeon she doesn't love (relatable — not the surgeon part, but the staying-with-someone-because-they-look-right-on-paper part), and then her life crumbles. Editor rejects her book. Boyfriend wants commitment she can't give. Mom falls into depression. So she goes home. And home means facing Isabelle, her ex-best friend who married Keely's high school boyfriend Tommy.
Now, here's where my telenovela-raised heart perked up. Best friend steals your man? Abuela would've been SCREAMING at this setup. She would've been on the edge of her recliner going "¡Ay, qué sinvergüenza!" about Isabelle. And honestly, the betrayal angle is the most emotionally alive part of the book. The tension between Keely and Isabelle when they first interact again — that awkward, loaded silence where you can feel years of hurt sitting between two people who used to share everything — that's where Nancy Thayer actually got me. My chest tightened. I know that feeling. Most women do.
But here's the thing. The book doesn't sit in that discomfort long enough. It keeps moving toward resolution in a way that feels... tidy. Too tidy. Like when a client wants me to soften every edge on a design until it's all rounded corners and pastels. Sometimes you need a sharp line.
Cassandra Campbell Is Doing Her Best With What She's Got
Cassandra Campbell has one of those voices that's genuinely pleasant to spend ten hours with. Warm, clear, steady pacing. She reminded me of listening to a really good friend tell you about a movie she saw — you're engaged, you trust her delivery, you're comfortable. For a book like this, where you're spending long stretches in Keely's head while she walks Nantucket beaches and overthinks her love life, Campbell's narration is like a good pair of headphones: you stop noticing it, which is kind of the point.
But — and this is where I have to be honest — there are moments where her delivery tips into something a little too sweet. A little simpering, almost. Especially during the romantic scenes with Sebastian (Isabelle's older brother, Keely's longtime crush). When the dialogue gets flirty, Campbell's voice takes on this breathy quality that made Diego look up from his nap and stare at me like, "Are we okay?" It's not a dealbreaker, but it pulled me out of the story a couple of times when I wanted to stay in.
One listener compared her to the Crawdads narration, and yeah, I can hear that. That same clean, slightly Southern-adjacent warmth. It works for the Nantucket setting, even if Nantucket is Massachusetts, not the South. The vibe translates.
Where My Heart Wanted More
I didn't cry during this book. And listen, I cry at EVERYTHING. I cried during a cereal commercial last month. So when I tell you a book about a broken friendship, a mother's depression, and a woman trying to figure out who she is outside of the life she built didn't make me cry — that means something.
The ingredients are all there. Keely's mom's depression storyline could have wrecked me. The reconciliation with Isabelle could have been a slow, earned, gutting moment. But Thayer writes with this gentle touch that keeps everything at a comfortable emotional distance. It's like watching waves from behind a window — pretty, soothing, but you can't feel the salt on your skin. Rush: A Novel actually gave me that salt-on-skin feeling I kept waiting for here — the kind of emotional exposure that leaves you raw in a way Thayer never quite commits to.
The Sebastian romance is fine. It's sweet. The chemistry is pleasant but never electric. I wanted the kind of tension where you hold your breath during a first kiss scene, and instead I got a nice warm feeling, like putting on socks fresh from the dryer. Not bad! Just not the gut-punch I chase.
This book felt like a Sunday afternoon where nothing goes wrong but nothing surprises you either. Gamble sat in similar Sunday-afternoon territory for me, that same pleasant-but-predictable energy that I respect without fully loving.
Who Needs This Book (and Who Should Keep Scrolling)
If you want a genuinely easy listen — the kind of audiobook you put on while cooking or driving or folding laundry and you don't need to rewind because you missed something — this is perfect for that. Fans of Elin Hilderbrand, Dorothea Benton Frank, anyone who has the word "beach" in their reading vocabulary: you're home.
If you need emotional complexity, if you want characters who feel like real messy humans rather than sketches of women making reasonable choices in reasonable timeframes — this might leave you hungry.
The Rosé Has Settled and So Has My Opinion
Surfside Sisters is comfort food. It's the audiobook equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich — satisfying, reliable, nothing you haven't had before. Cassandra Campbell serves it warm. I don't regret the ten hours, but I'm not going to add it to my crying spreadsheet. Abuela would've listened, enjoyed it, and then asked me to put on something with more drama. Same, Abuela. Same.
