Whistler
Ann Patchett's Whistler opens on two people who shared a single strange year decades ago and place each other again, much older now, across a crowded gallery at the Met. It's a hushed, deeply felt novel about memory and the small choices that quietly turn out to be the large ones. Best for readers who live for character-driven literary fiction.
From the review
It begins with a man following a couple through the Met. He's older, white-haired, and Daphne Fuller can feel his attention before she works out who he is. Eddie Triplett. He married her mother for a little more than a year when Daphne was nine, then disappeared from her life after something happened that neither of them ever quite got over. Patchett is in no hurry to tell you what that something was. She lets the recognition land first, that jolt of seeing a person you knew as a child now looking back at you as an old man, and the whole novel grows out of that instant when two far-apart timelines touch.
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