Scrambled Eggs at Midnight (review)

Fifteen-year-old Calliope arrives in Asheville, North Carolina, at the whim of her mother, Delores, who rambles across the country from Renaissance Faire to Renaissance Faire; Eliot lives on the outskirts of Asheville at Sonshine Valley Christian Camp, run by his father, who makes a mint bringing Jesus and slimmer bodies to overweight kids. When Calliope and Eliot meet, they have immediate chemistry (almost literally, since Eliot initially sports green lips as a chemical consequence of his secret fireworks-making hobby), and they grow quickly closer despite—or because of—parental dramas that complicate their lives. Narration alternates between Calliope and Eliot, giving each a chance to give their own viewpoints. The result is not just a sweet and very funny story of first love but a look at human need: Calliope's longing for home and connections is tossed aside by her mother as Delores repeatedly chases the fling du jour to a new location before Cal can put down roots; Eliot and his mother are drawing away from Eliot's father, who's too absorbed in his empowering platitudes to tend to the people around him, and from the isolation of life with him. Delores' decision to up stakes again just when Cal has found Eliot therefore doesn't just provoke resistance in the name of true love but also an acknowledgment from Calliope that she needs to feel attached to people, including her estranged father, in a way Delores' lifestyle precludes. There's still enough smart and satirical wit to make this entertaining with plenty of tender and revelatory affection to make it an appealing love story indeed, and readers will appreciate Calliope and Eliot's togetherness all the more for understanding what it means to them.