Hazel Scottsdale is the novel’s deuteragonist and Joy’s lifelong best friend. A vivid and fiercely independent woman, she is a classic foil to Joy’s cautious and rule-abiding nature. Since childhood, Hazel has been the one to “take up space,” living a bold, adventurous life that takes her all over the world. She is charismatic, unconventional, and unapologetically herself, a stark contrast to the small, inoffensive existence Joy has led. Throughout their lives, Hazel consistently pushes Joy out of her comfort zone, from their first meeting in a one-room schoolhouse to their final days together. Her impending death from cancer is the novel’s inciting incident, forcing Joy to navigate the world without her protector and inspiring her to live more bravely.

While Hazel appears static for much of the novel, embodying the same audacious spirit from youth to old age, she reveals a deeper vulnerability as her illness progresses. Her tough, sarcastic exterior is a shield for her fear of being a burden and her deep-seated need for Joy’s stable presence. She admits that Joy has been her anchor, the one person who has kept her “tethered and grounded” throughout her life, illustrating the theme that Friendship Relies on Contrasting Strengths. Hazel also confesses to regrets, particularly regarding her past relationship with the artist Eric, whose last ceramic vase becomes a motif of the themes of friendship and rebellion. Her request for her ashes to be kept in the vase shows her desire for a form of permanence and connection she largely avoided in life. Ultimately, Hazel’s greatest influence is posthumous, as her example inspires Joy to continue embracing life with newfound gusto, ensuring her spirited legacy lives on.

Rowan is a key supporting character who becomes an unlikely friend and accomplice to Joy. Initially introduced through the lens of town gossip as a dangerous ex-convict, he subverts this stereotype with his kind, gentle, and perceptive nature. His past is complex; he served eight years in prison for a crime he was framed for, and this experience has left him with a nuanced perspective on morality and justice. He understands what it feels like to be judged and underestimated, creating an immediate bond with Joy, who feels that old age has made her invisible to most people. His relationship with his partner, Philippe, and their beloved dog, Hettie, further establishes him as a caring and devoted man, far from the hardened criminal that gossip portrays him as.

Rowan’s role in the narrative is twofold. First, he is a confidant for Joy, offering her a non-judgmental space to discuss her grief over Hazel and her feelings of helplessness. Having lost his own mother to cancer, he provides valuable wisdom, advising Joy not to treat Hazel like someone she is waiting to lose but as the person she has always been. Second, he is the practical facilitator of Joy’s greatest rebellion. His and Philippe’s side business of creating forgeries and orchestrating art heists provides the means for Joy to steal the ceramic vase. He operates by his own ethical code that justifies stealing from the unappreciative rich to give art to those who will truly cherish it because he believes “[g]reat art deserves to be in the hands of those who understand its inherent value beyond a dollar amount” (193). This perspective helps Joy reconcile her own rule breaking, as she comes to see that good intentions can exist in the gray area beyond society’s rigid definitions of right and wrong.

Elizabeth is Joy’s adult daughter, a round and dynamic character whose strained relationship with her mother provides a subplot. An overworked intensive care nurse and single mother to Finn, Elizabeth is weary and often impatient with Joy. Their conflict stems from a fundamental difference in how they process and express emotion. Elizabeth resents Joy for her relentless positivity and her inability to discuss difficult subjects, a parenting style that made Elizabeth “feel like [she] wasn’t allowed to have any negative feelings” throughout her childhood and her own difficult divorce (224). She sees Joy’s passivity in her marriage to the unfaithful Thom as a weakness she is determined not to repeat in her own life.

Elizabeth’s perception of her mother begins to shift as Joy becomes more assertive and rebellious. The discovery that Joy has been hiding Hazel’s illness from her deepens their rift, but it also forces a long-overdue confrontation. In a moment of vulnerability, Elizabeth confesses the financial and emotional difficulties she has faced since her divorce, revealing that she asked Hazel for money because she “was scared” her already financially burdened mother would “deprive [herself] of things” to help (274). This honest conversation is a turning point, allowing both women to voice decades of resentment and misunderstanding. Elizabeth comes to appreciate the stability Joy provided while Joy finally understands her daughter’s need for emotional validation. Their reconciliation is a key moment in Joy’s arc, freeing her from her past failures as a mother and allowing her to forge a more authentic, honest relationship with her daughter.

Finn is Joy’s 16-year-old grandson. The kind and perceptive supporting character defies the stereotype of a self-absorbed teenager by maintaining a close, loving relationship with his grandmother. He genuinely enjoys spending time with her, whether playing board games, visiting the library, or simply chatting. Finn acts as an emotional bridge between Joy and his mother, Elizabeth, often mediating their tense interactions with his easygoing nature and sensitivity. Brammer uses the character to develop the novel’s criticism of rigid, simplistic definitions of what it means to be a “good person” through Joy’s concern that his seemingly positive traits, such as his agreeable nature, are “a survival mechanism” and the boy’s belief that people aren’t “born good or bad” but instead “have the capacity for both” (200). Finn is also Joy’s connection to the modern world, helping her with technology and patiently explaining contemporary social norms. His pride and amusement at Joy’s newfound rebellious streak, particularly when she speeds on the highway, highlights his unconditional acceptance of her. Finn offers a pure, uncomplicated love in Joy’s life, and his presence provides her with comfort and a deep sense of purpose.

Celeste Hobart is Joy’s next-door neighbor and is a minor antagonist for most of the novel. For 40 years, Joy has harbored a deep resentment toward Celeste, whom she believes had an affair with her husband. The sophisticated, effortlessly stylish, and confident Celeste represents everything Joy feels she is not. The sight of Celeste is a constant, painful reminder of Thom’s infidelity and Joy’s own feelings of inadequacy within her marriage. Joy’s decision to purposely dent Celeste’s car with a shopping cart is a significant, albeit misguided, step in her rebellious journey.

However, Celeste proves to be a more complex character than Joy assumes. After Joy finally confronts her in front of their crafting circle, Celeste reveals to Joy that Thom’s advance was unwanted, making her “an unwitting victim of [her] own husband’s shortcomings” (268). This revelation shatters Joy’s long-held narrative and forces her to reckon with her own passive avoidance of the truth. Celeste’s confession frees Joy from a lifetime of misplaced anger and allows the two women to form a genuine, supportive friendship in their old age, bonded by their shared loneliness and Joy’s newfound willingness to confront her past.