“Three Days in June,” Anne Tyler’s 25th novel, blooms as an April 2025 bestseller, its gentle quirks and deep humanity drawing readers into a Baltimore wedding weekend. Released in February, its momentum carries into spring, offering a socially awkward mother, Gail Baines, as she navigates her daughter’s nuptials. Tyler’s signature blend of humor and heartache crafts a domestic epic that’s small in scope but vast in feeling.
Gail, a 60-ish widow, opens the tale fretting over her role as mother of the bride. Her daughter, Debbie, a pragmatic nurse, is marrying Fred, a genial accountant, in a backyard ceremony that Gail dreads. The novel spans three days—Friday to Sunday—each a vignette of familial friction and fleeting grace. Tyler’s prose, tart yet warm, paints Gail’s world: a cluttered rowhouse, a cat named Whiskers, a life of quiet routine upended by festivity.
Friday begins with Gail botching a toast at the rehearsal dinner, her stammered words a comedic misfire that sets her apart from Debbie’s poised in-laws. Tyler excels here, mining humor from Gail’s unease—spilled wine, a misbuttoned dress—while hinting at her loneliness since her husband’s death. A flashback to her marriage, tender but frayed, reveals her discomfort with change, a thread that weaves through the weekend.
Saturday, the wedding day, is a kaleidoscope of chaos and connection. Gail’s attempts to help—ironing Debbie’s veil, wrangling a rogue nephew—falter hilariously, yet her love shines in small acts: a sewn hem, a whispered encouragement. Tyler’s cast—Fred’s boisterous mother, Debbie’s wry sister—orbits Gail, their chatter a foil to her introspection. The ceremony, under a sagging tent, is pure Tyler: rain threatens, vows wobble, but joy breaks through. Gail’s dance with Fred’s uncle, clumsy yet sweet, marks a thaw in her isolation.
Sunday’s aftermath shifts to reflection. The newlyweds depart, leaving Gail with a hungover houseguest and a dawning epiphany. A walk through her neighborhood—past crab shacks and peeling porches—sparks memories of raising Debbie, each a pang of pride and regret. Tyler’s Baltimore is a character itself, its humid charm grounding Gail’s quiet reckoning. A phone call from Debbie, grateful despite the mishaps, seals the arc with understated grace.
“Three Days in June” is Tyler at her peak: a miniaturist’s portrait of ordinary lives, elevated by empathy and wit. Its bestseller rise in April 2025 reflects its universal pull—a story of family, flawed and fleeting, that lingers like a summer dusk.