Mother, Mother: Psychological suspense for fans of ROOM. Koren Zailckas

completely was the same person she felt all too conflicted about. Very suddenly, all roads led to Rose.

       WILLIAM HURST

      WILL’S FATHER DROVE him ten minutes north of Poughkeepsie for lunch.

      Douglas pored over each wordy dish on the menu like there’d be a pop quiz later. For his part, Will didn’t know whether it would be ruder to ask the waitress to hold the truffle spread on the grilled cheese or to go with the macaroni and try to substitute cheddar for Gruyère.

      After Douglas ordered braised short ribs and iced tea, Will felt his shoulders relax. He’d been worried that his dad was going to order scotch.

      At the table beside them, a waiter was reading the specials with the gusto of a celebrity chef. Watching him, Will’s father leaned back in his chair. “Sometimes I wish I’d gone to culinary school,” Douglas said. “I love food. There’s just not much point in making it anymore. Your mother’s such a superior cook.”

      Will didn’t know what to say. He tried to imagine his father whipping up dishes instead of computer code. He’d never seen him so much as boil an egg.

      On second thought, Will seemed to remember, years ago, his father going on an ice-cream-making kick. One summer, before Rose left, Douglas had made giant batches of challenging flavors—white wine sorbet and jalapeño gelato. But in mid-August, his beloved ice cream maker accidentally found its way into the display at a Hurst family yard sale. If Will remembered right, it was sold for fifteen dollars and was never replaced.

      “You know, we met in a kitchen.” Douglas looked down at his stemmed water glass. He started spinning the liquid into a fury the way Will often saw him swish and whirlpool red wine.

      “You and Mom?”