Empire Falls

there. You never came. You made her happy, then you broke your promise, and she died.”
    “What was I supposed to do?”
    “What you said.”
    “I tried.”
    “No, you didn’t.” He was crying now, as he hadn’t since he was a boy, the kind of crying that did some good. “She never stopped waiting for you.”
    “You’re wrong about that. She did stop. Don’t you remember? You’re the one who never forgot.” Charlie Mayne reached over then and tousled Miles’s hair.
    When Miles looked down he saw he was a boy, that he’d never been anything else, that his life as a husband and father had been a dream. “I hate you,” he sobbed.
    “And I you,” Charlie Mayne replied kindly.
    “Why? I’m just a boy.”
    “Because if it hadn’t been for you, your mother and I could’ve run away together like we wanted to. You were the reason.”
    “It’s not true,” he cried, knowing it was.
    “So, now do you see the way it really was?” Charlie Mayne nudged him. “You’re the one who killed your mother, not me.”
    H E AWOKE A MAN , with no idea how long he’d slept on that crooked porch. The fog was still thick and there were voices in it, though he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. At first whoever was talking seemed to be over at the next cottage, but then the voices shifted in the direction of the main house.
    “Probably just somebody fishing off the point.”
    “In this?”
    “It’s a beater with Maine plates. Who around here’s got Maine plates?”
    After a while the voices receded, and Miles, embarrassed, walked quickly back to the Jetta. Another car was parked by the gate, but whoever it was had chosen not to block him in, so Miles did a three-point turn and headed toward home. Not just across the island, either, for he suddenly knew that his brother was right. It was time to return to Empire Falls, to his life. Better to be a man there, his “Sojourner” dream had shown him, than a boy here.
    Max was standing in Peter and Dawn’s kitchen in his undershorts, scratching himself thoughtfully. “That was David,” he said.
    “Who was David?”
    “On the phone.”
    “I wasn’t here when it rang, Dad.”
    “I know,” Max said. “That’s why I’m telling you. David said to tell you the Whiting woman died yesterday. The old one, not the cripple.”
    “Francine Whiting?”
    “That’s right. Drowned.”
    Miles had to sit down. “That’s crazy.”
    “You don’t believe me, call your brother. I’m just telling you what he said.”
    “Drowned?”
    “In the river, he said. Call him back if you don’t believe me.”
    Miles shook his head, trying to imagine the world without Mrs. Whiting in it. Who would keep it spinning? he wondered.
    “Anyway, I should go back for the funeral,” his father declared. “You hear what I said?”
    “Why?”
    “Because you look like you didn’t.”
    “No. Why would you go to her funeral?”
    Max was grinning broadly now. “You never listen to me. Just ’cause I’m sempty don’t mean you can just ignore me, you know.”
    “Why do you want to go to that woman’s funeral, Dad?”
    “Because we’re related. The Robys and the Robideauxs. Like I been telling you. I bet you she left me a little something.”
    T HEY PACKED THEIR THINGS that night and closed up the house next morning, having called Peter and Dawn about their change of plans. Miles also called Callahan’s, hoping to speak to his brother, but it was Janine who answered. “We’re on our way back, if that’s all right with you.”
    “There’s plenty of room at the house,” she told him, sounding weary. “Walt’s moved back to his own place.”
    “I’m sorry to hear it, Janine.”
    “Don’t be. I’d take him for everything he’s worth, if he was worth anything. Has Tick forgiven me?”
    “What for?”
    No response to this. “Have you forgiven me?”
    “Again, what for?”
    “Just so you won’t be surprised when you see me, I’ve gained a lot of weight.”
    “I’ve lost a lot.”
    “Just to piss me off, or what?”
    “See you soon, Janine.”
    They’d just turned out of the driveway—Tick in the backseat with her headphones on, Max up front in the passenger seat—when the glove box door flopped open.
    “You never got this fixed, huh?” Max observed, proceeding to rummage through its contents.
    “I don’t think it can be,” Miles said, smiling to think how long ago it seemed that Max had broken it.
    “Don’t be an idiot,” his father said,