Empire Falls

businesswoman who had recognized the exact moment at which to sell each of the three Whiting mills, who had never before exhibited the slightest patience with borderline businesses. Yet for more than a decade she’d seemed content to let the Empire Grill limp along toward its inevitable extinction. In the absence of any other rational explanation, Miles had almost concluded that it must be a matter of affection. But for whom? Miles himself? It was possible, he supposed. Horace, as clever and cynical an observer as the local scene offered, had concluded as much, so maybe. If not for Miles, for the Empire Grill itself? Unlikely, since the old woman hadn’t set foot in its shabby premises in twenty years. The other possibility, which Miles kept returning to, was the old woman’s fondness for Miles’s mother, who had worked for Mrs. Whiting until she fell ill. So again, maybe.
    “Reason with her,” David urged him. “Tell her people won’t eat spicy Mexican and Asian food without beer. And they like wine with Italian.”
    “I’ll try,” Miles said. “But don’t get your hopes up. She’s not stupid, but for some reason she doesn’t like change. Maybe it’s just old age. Maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered. Anyway, it’s her business.”
    David pondered this obvious truth while a Red Sox batter hit a towering fly ball that was caught on the warning track. Then, studying his empty club soda, as if trying to recollect why a man like himself would drink soda water instead of beer, he said, “Want to hear another idea?”
    No, was the simple truth. It had been a long day, and Miles was too tired and dispirited by his conversation with Janine to think. “Sure,” he said. “What?”
    “Go talk to your mother-in-law.”
    “Bea? Why?”
    “Think about it, Miles. It makes sense.”
    “It’s a thought,” Miles said. Janine’s mother owned not just the dying tavern, Callahan’s, but the building in which the tavern was housed, which meant that Mrs. Whiting, if she felt betrayed and decided to be vindictive, would have little recourse. No, there was no need for David to explain his thinking here. If Mrs. Whiting didn’t want to spring for a liquor license and give them a fighting chance, move the whole kit and caboodle across town. Bea’s place was bigger, too, which meant they’d have room to grow.
    “You’d be doing Bea a favor. She’s going under by degrees. You could save her and yourself at the same time.”
    “I don’t have the money to buy her place, David.”
    “Offer to go partners. She provides the liquor license, you provide the food service.”
    “And what do I do when you leave?”
    “Am I going somewhere?”
    “Well.”
    “Don’t ‘well’ me, Miles.”
    “You get bored with things. And then you split. I don’t mean that as a criticism. There’s no reason you shouldn’t. You don’t have a family. I just don’t have the luxury, is all.”
    “So you’re saying I’m the reason you won’t consider Bea’s place?”
    “I’m not saying I won’t consider it,” Miles said. “I admit, it’s a thought.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” David told him. “It sounds dead already.”
    Miles didn’t respond right away, not until he could speak without irritation. When the last Red Sox batter of the inning finally struck out with men on first and third, Miles said, “I owe her, David.”
    “Owe who?”
    “Mrs. Whiting. Isn’t that who we were talking about? Maybe Janine and Tick and I haven’t had a terribly prosperous life, but it hasn’t been bad, either. The restaurant has struggled, obviously, and God knows we’ve struggled right along with it, but we’ve kept our heads above water, and that’s more than you can say for a lot of people around here. Mrs. Whiting could’ve closed the place down years ago, and where would that have left us? You want me to thumb my nose at her? And there’s something else, too. I was away at college for three years, and every time I really needed money, Mom sent it. Where do you think Mom found five hundred dollars every semester for books and fees?”
    David considered this. “You think it was from Mrs. Whiting?”
    “She didn’t get it from Max. Who else was there?”
    “I don’t know,” David admitted, “but at least we’re finally talking about the right person.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means when you said you owed her, that’s who I thought you were talking about. Mom. If