CHARACTER

Mae

Quick Facts

  • Role: Older sister, family protector, and primary caregiver; a pragmatic counterweight to hope and guilt in the family
  • First appearance: Prologue (opening the door with a “joyful” face); prominent early action in Chapter 1’s police station scene
  • Key relationships: Joe (brother and patient), Ruthie (younger sister whose disappearance defines the family), Joe’s mother (caregiver-to-caregiver tension), Ben (co-pillar among the older siblings)

Who They Are

Bold, stubborn, and unafraid of hard choices, Mae grows from a rebellious teen into the family’s steady center. As the older sister of Joe and Ruthie, she embodies love as labor—measured in drives to appointments, bruised knuckles from punching pillows into shape, and the willingness to sell her home to move back in. Where others drift toward the haze of Memory and Trauma or the ache of Guilt and Atonement, Mae insists on the stubborn, day-by-day work of survival within Family, Loss, and Grief. Her toughness is not a mask but a method: when faith is quiet and hope is costly, she chooses action that keeps her family alive—emotionally and literally.

Personality & Traits

Mae’s personality sharpens in conflict and softens in secret. The novel presents a woman whose brusqueness is a tool, not a flaw—a way to push past inertia, protect the vulnerable, and keep grief from calcifying into paralysis. Her presence is felt more than seen: a “grumbling and snoring” body in the chair across from Joe’s bed; a sharp tongue cutting through institutional indifference; a steady hand turning care into routine.

  • Protective, fiercely loyal: In Chapter 1, she confronts a dismissive officer after Ruthie vanishes—an early, public display of her instinct to shield her family.
  • Pragmatic realist: She challenges the unending hope Joe and their mother maintain about Ruthie’s return, not out of cruelty but to anchor the family to what must be done now.
  • Rebellious, spirited youth: Joe remembers, “Mae never found a party she didn’t like,” and she hitchhikes to town to dodge chores—yet she always returns with candy for her siblings, marrying defiance to generosity.
  • Blunt, outspoken: Mae’s sharp questions and unfiltered honesty reflect impatience with injustice and institutional inaction—especially from the police.
  • Subtly empathetic: When their mother collapses into grief, Mae asks to learn knitting. Joe recognizes it as a strategic kindness designed to coax their mother back into the world.

Character Journey

Mae’s arc is a conversion of energy: the restlessness of a teenager becomes the stamina of a caregiver. Ruthie’s disappearance—and later Charlie’s death—redirects her rebellious streak into protection, making her the sibling who does what hurts but helps. Over years, her love shifts from smuggled sweets to sacrificial logistics: moving in with her mother, tending Joe through illness, and taking on the mundane, grinding tasks that constitute devotion. The prologue crystallizes this culmination when she opens the door “joyful”—not naïve, but relieved to greet the long-awaited resolution her labor has helped make possible.

Key Relationships

  • Joe: Mae is Joe’s caregiver, advocate, and sparring partner. Their banter thins the distance between pain and humor, while her constant presence—driving, feeding, propping pillows—translates sibling love into end-of-life care. She tells him hard truths without cruelty, trusting the sturdiness of their bond.
  • Joe’s Mother: Mae loves through action, her mother through quiet faith, and that difference sparks friction. The knitting lesson Mae initiates reframes their dynamic: she finds a way to honor her mother’s mode of coping while gently nudging her back toward participation in family life.
  • Ruthie: As the childhood audience for Mae’s tall tales, Ruthie represents the innocence Mae tries—and fails—to protect. Ruthie’s disappearance hardens Mae and fixes her in the role of guardian to those who remain, powering Mae’s later refusal to let grief immobilize the family.
  • Ben: As the oldest siblings and residential school survivors, Mae and Ben share a quiet, duty-bound partnership. They tag-team care for Joe at night, embodying a durable solidarity that replaces youthful rebellion with mature reliability.

Defining Moments

Mae’s most important scenes reveal a throughline: she converts feeling into function, grief into movement, and love into work.

  • Confronting the police (Chapter 1): Her demand—action over empty questions—establishes her as the family’s advocate against institutional neglect. It also sets the moral tone: passivity is unacceptable where a child is missing.
  • Learning to knit (Chapter 3): Mae turns empathy into strategy, using a simple, teachable task to draw her mother out of despair. The moment shows her gift for practical healing—meeting people where they are to move them forward.
  • Becoming a caregiver (Prologue & Chapter 3): From punching Joe’s pillows to sleeping in the room “grumbling and snoring,” Mae’s care is continuous and bodily. This work completes her arc from runaway teen to matriarch, demonstrating that her fierceness serves tenderness.
  • Selling her home to move back: A private, costly choice that reorients her entire life around caretaking, revealing her definition of love as permanent responsibility.

Essential Quotes

“You just gonna ask the same stupid questions or you gonna help us find her?”

This line crystallizes Mae’s impatience with performative concern and her demand for accountability. It’s a public vow: she will not let institutions hide behind procedure when lives are at stake.

“Back then, there was no telling about Mae. Mae never found a party she didn’t like, where she couldn’t cause some sort of trouble. But she’d come strolling in after dark and secretly pass candies to Ruthie and me.”

Joe’s memory catches the paradox that defines Mae: mischief braided with caretaking. Even at her wildest, she returns with gifts—foreshadowing the adult who channels unruliness into generosity.

“God love ya, Joe. You and Mom holdin’ out hope after all these years.”

Mae’s blunt tenderness balances affection with skepticism. She respects their hope but positions herself as the one who manages the realities that hope alone can’t address.

“I still think Mae knew what she was doing, knew that this was how she was going to help Mom, help us all. When no one is looking, Mae can be a sweetheart.”

Joe recognizes the intentionality behind Mae’s practical kindness. The line reveals how her apparent hardness conceals a carefully aimed compassion.

“Now, Ben sleeps in a single bed across from me. He’s awake most nights, scared I’ll take my last breath on his shift. When he’s not in the bed, Mae is there, grumbling and snoring.”

Mae’s presence becomes a soundscape of care—unromantic, constant, human. The image of her “grumbling and snoring” underscores how love, for Mae, is endurance made audible.