Chapter 20“I think I’m in the mood for lutefisk,” Beck announced one morning. His cravings for all things fishy had intensified over the past few days.
“For breakfast?” The smell, the feel of the lye-soaked fish. For a moment Troy thought he was about to experience the symptoms of morning sickness himself.
“Well, maybe for lunch or supper.”
“Uh.” Troy swallowed. “Isn’t it, like, only available around the holidays? He remembered with vivid clarity the only time he’d eaten the stuff. Their neighbor, Mrs. Larsen, had invited his family over for a traditional meal of lefse, meatballs, and lutefisk. Troy had left the lutefisk until last and only managed a small amount before declaring he was full and asking if he could be excused from the table.
“I guess.” Beck’s face fell.
Troy determined
