At age 36, Jack Madigan would seem to be skewing slightly old to be a proper hero of romantic comedy, but no: he fits the role as perfectly as Hugh Grant wears his hair. Author Tish Cohen – not a great writer, but terrifyingly good at knowing what readers want – understands that the older the guy is, the more cute bad habits he must be cured of.

Sure enough, Jack is a mess. An agoraphobe, he must gulp pills – “Nervy Durvies” – to even open the front door. Fortunately, he has a son, Harlan, to help him function; a patient, goofily lovable teenage boy who is weird on the outside but conventional and responsible on the inside. Jack also has a formidable ex-spouse, Harlan’s mom. (Overachieving, brittle former wives are as common as absent mothers in romantic comedy.) There is also a supporting chorus of wacky people and animals, including, most importantly, a nice real estate lady, Dorrie, who turns out to be so klutzy and plucky and generally life-affirming that we immediately intuit that She Is the One for Jack. But how will they get together?

The answer lies in the big, floppy, whimsical ball of a plot. As the book opens, Jack is so broke that the bank decides to foreclose on his mortgage. Next, Jack’s ex-wife announces her upcoming marriage, to a guy who wants to take Harlan away and turn him into some sort of sun-loving California dude. On top of everything else, Jack has a misunderstanding with the magical Dorrie. And he’s nearly out of pills.

Town House isn’t as toothsome as it wants to be. Cohen’s chief problem is a common one: the male characters seem tailor-made to suit the fantasies of middle-aged women. This is part of the point, of course, but it’s especially transparent here.

The book isn’t a classic, but its sunny disposition is hard to resist. Although not skilled enough or dramatic enough or funny enough to rock the world of romantic comedy, it will provide some readers with good, daydreamy fun. –