Author Ann Garvin lives in the Midwest and has a dog named Peanut, so it’s no wonder that the main character in her new novel, “There’s No Coming Back from This” is from Wisconsin and ends up buddies with a dog. (Coincidentally, I lost my dog Peanut earlier this year, and my current foster dog is named Peanut.) Poppy Lively, the main character in this charming story, may have a frivolous name, but there is nothing lighthearted about her. She has spent almost two decades being a single mother and devoting her life to being the best mother she could be. But now, from her IRS debt to trying to hide her financial woes from her daughter Robyn, she is desperate. Poppy is struggling to do whatever is necessary to not lose the money she has saved for her daughter’s college and to keep their family home.

At the airport, while sending her daughter off to New York to be a summer nanny to a very wealthy family, Poppy runs into a former boyfriend, Three. When Poppy was in her early thirties and Robyn was a baby, she had met Three, who was ten years younger. They dated for a while, but Three moved on to California while Poppy stayed in Wisconsin, trying to save the business her father started and keep their family home.

Unfortunately, while trying to be the best single mother she could, Poppy entrusted the financial end of her business to someone who stole the money intended for taxes, so now the IRS is threatening to take Poppy’s home and her bank accounts and leave her with nothing. Poppy doesn’t know what she will do. That’s when she runs into Three at the airport.

For old time’s sake, he buys her a glass of champagne, and a slightly tipsy Poppy tells him all her woes, which she abbreviates as follows: “No job, big debt, possibly prison.” Before he gets on the plane to return to California, he gets her phone number and tells her he might have an opportunity for her.

Three is a producer for a film, and he offers her a job in wardrobe. The money is good, and Poppy drops everything to drive to California to start working on the set. But as is often the case, things are not what they appear to be, and Poppy finds that life on the set is not what she expected. While Poppy knows nothing about sewing, she is smart and learns quickly, so understanding the job is not difficult, and in fact she really enjoys the work. It’s dealing with people who view her Midwestern attitude as quaint and for some unknown reason, don’t trust her, that frustrates Poppy. There’s also the matter of not having anywhere to live.

Poppy (and we) learn the term “must hire”: someone who is unqualified but hired at the insistence of someone important to the film. Poppy replaces Kristi, who was also a “must hire” but was fired for allegedly stealing something from wardrobe. Poppy finds out that you don’t even actually have to be fired; if your name isn’t on the early morning call sheet that is emailed to the workers on the set, then you aren’t working. In essence, you are fired. Poppy discovers a mysterious note in Kristi’s kit (sewing stuff in a fanny pack) about a button.

Poppy is clever, she is determined, and above all she is kind. When the director’s loony mother-in-law foists her aging small dog on Poppy, it’s expected that Poppy will foist the senior dog on someone else. But she isn’t anxious to get rid of Kevin, who turns out to be female. In fact, she and Kevin bond, and together they uncover a sordid tale of greed and cover-ups.

Those who underestimated Poppy rue their mistake as she is determined to get justice for the wronged and avenge their mistreatment. Reflecting on how she was suckered into the scheme, Poppy realizes that her whole life, she had subjugated her own wants and needs in her effort to please others. Her mother, her father, then Three. Garvin shares that women like her do almost anything for adoring looks from those they care for and are then dumped when asserting “anything real.” She writes, “Women learn to be pleasing—often their lives and livelihood depends on it.” In fact, Poppy tells us directly about this fault when, at the start of the novel, Three invites her for a drink at the airport and as she agrees, she thinks, “But I am someone who says yes against her will because I don’t know how to say no, this is the worst time of my life, and I don’t want to spill my guts and be that tragic girl whose life recently hit the skids.”

Poppy, in her friendly Midwestern manner, has made friends on the set. She’s made enemies, too, but that’s only because they don’t trust her. Once she proves her worth, she forms alliances ,and together, the group can work to bring down the person who has been threatening all the “must hires” and even a few others. Poppy must be resourceful and brave, and above all, she must stop worrying about pleasing others and do what is best for Poppy (and the others).

Watching Poppy’s metamorphosis is truly delightful, but it’s also fun to vicariously visit the set of a movie (especially a doggie remake of “When Harry Met Sally,” which becomes when “Hairy Met Sweetie”) and see how the people and the pieces fit together. In addition to many other tasks in the wardrobe department, there’s a wardrobe person who works in continuity, making sure that the costumes look the same from shot to shot. Sleeves with the cuffs rolled up twice can’t suddenly be rolled up three times; wedding rings can’t appear, jewelry must be the same. There’s also a clear demarcation between the “important” people on the set, like the actors, directors and producers, and the rest of the crew, who almost unseen, also make the magic happen.

This is a thoughtful read about relationships, parenting, friendship, values, and coming to terms with mistakes made earlier in our lives. Recreating oneself is difficult, but Poppy is up to the task.

This review is based on the advance reader’s copy provided by Lake Union, the publisher, for review purposes.