between him and the fish. Those dozen locals—mostly men—were so impressed, they told their friends, who told their friends. No one had ever heard of Tuck before, but they were so curious about this mysterious ice fisherman who caught things no one else could, they started coming every night to see if he’d be there with more monstrous creatures of the deep. And he did return every now and then, so they did, too.”
I caught Paige’s eye. At the mention of monstrous creatures of the deep, this conversation had to be venturing into dangerous waters for her, too.
“Fast-forward to today,” Paige said casually. “How’d Tuck’s truck of fish lead to so much business?”
“It got people talking. Soon, other ice fishermen started stopping by to see how their catches compared. Then morecurious patrons came to check out the new guys’ stock and do some comparing themselves. Now there are contests every night to see who caught the biggest, strangest fish that day.” Natalie patted the stack of purple paper. “Word of mouth is the best promotion any business can get … and I’m sorry to say that no one’s going to be talking about Betty’s pretty new menus.”
“Okay,” Paige said, “but they
will
be talking about the food. They always have, and what we serve hasn’t changed.”
“How about your clientele?” Natalie asked.
“It’s smaller. Hence the menus and renovations and everything else.”
“Numbers aside.” Natalie nodded to an elderly couple at a nearby table. “Are the people who come for brunch once the kind who’ll come back again and again—with friends?”
Paige considered this as she watched the couple. “Maybe.”
“What about the summer?” I asked. “When the lakes weren’t frozen? What kept people coming back to Mountaineers then?”
“Its reputation.” Natalie stood. “Because after a single winter, it had a good one. Even if people couldn’t see how the place earned it, they still wanted to see where the crazy things they heard about happened. To be part of the experience in some small way.”
As she left to check on the couple, I looked at Paige. “It sounds like the Bull & Finch Pub.”
“Where everyone knows your name?”
“Where everyone
knew
your name—until word got outthat it inspired the bar in
Cheers
, that old TV show. Now it’s a Boston tourist hot spot.”
“Without crazy fish.”
“But with the kind of reputation Natalie’s talking about. The actors are never there, but people line up on the sidewalk anyway.”
Paige sighed. “Betty’s has a reputation. It’s been here more than fifty years. It’s been featured in countless travel magazines. People should already know about it and be coming to Winter Harbor just to try our famous soup.”
“But they’re not,” I said gently.
“Maybe it’s a slump. If we ride it out, maybe everything will eventually go back to normal.” Her voice was bright, but her frown deepened.
“You don’t think it will?” I asked.
“It might. Crazier things have happened, as we know.” She tried to laugh. “It’s just … remember that hospitality-management training program I was looking into? In San Francisco?”
I nodded. Before deciding to stick closer to home, she’d spent hours every night last semester poring over the Web site and course offerings.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it and I’d really like to go—”
I gasped. “That’s great!”
“Yeah, it is. Thanks. But it’s also really expensive. And between paying for Hawthorne last year, fixing up the house after Oliver wrecked it last fall, and pouring a boatload of money into these renovations, Grandma B’s change purse is getting a little light.She keeps saying we can afford it, but if the rest of the summer is as slow as the past few weeks have been … we’re in trouble.”
For a moment, my mind lingered on an image of Oliver in the basement of Betty and Paige’s house, cutting out pictures and newspaper
I caught Paige’s eye. At the mention of monstrous creatures of the deep, this conversation had to be venturing into dangerous waters for her, too.
“Fast-forward to today,” Paige said casually. “How’d Tuck’s truck of fish lead to so much business?”
“It got people talking. Soon, other ice fishermen started stopping by to see how their catches compared. Then morecurious patrons came to check out the new guys’ stock and do some comparing themselves. Now there are contests every night to see who caught the biggest, strangest fish that day.” Natalie patted the stack of purple paper. “Word of mouth is the best promotion any business can get … and I’m sorry to say that no one’s going to be talking about Betty’s pretty new menus.”
“Okay,” Paige said, “but they
will
be talking about the food. They always have, and what we serve hasn’t changed.”
“How about your clientele?” Natalie asked.
“It’s smaller. Hence the menus and renovations and everything else.”
“Numbers aside.” Natalie nodded to an elderly couple at a nearby table. “Are the people who come for brunch once the kind who’ll come back again and again—with friends?”
Paige considered this as she watched the couple. “Maybe.”
“What about the summer?” I asked. “When the lakes weren’t frozen? What kept people coming back to Mountaineers then?”
“Its reputation.” Natalie stood. “Because after a single winter, it had a good one. Even if people couldn’t see how the place earned it, they still wanted to see where the crazy things they heard about happened. To be part of the experience in some small way.”
As she left to check on the couple, I looked at Paige. “It sounds like the Bull & Finch Pub.”
“Where everyone knows your name?”
“Where everyone
knew
your name—until word got outthat it inspired the bar in
Cheers
, that old TV show. Now it’s a Boston tourist hot spot.”
“Without crazy fish.”
“But with the kind of reputation Natalie’s talking about. The actors are never there, but people line up on the sidewalk anyway.”
Paige sighed. “Betty’s has a reputation. It’s been here more than fifty years. It’s been featured in countless travel magazines. People should already know about it and be coming to Winter Harbor just to try our famous soup.”
“But they’re not,” I said gently.
“Maybe it’s a slump. If we ride it out, maybe everything will eventually go back to normal.” Her voice was bright, but her frown deepened.
“You don’t think it will?” I asked.
“It might. Crazier things have happened, as we know.” She tried to laugh. “It’s just … remember that hospitality-management training program I was looking into? In San Francisco?”
I nodded. Before deciding to stick closer to home, she’d spent hours every night last semester poring over the Web site and course offerings.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it and I’d really like to go—”
I gasped. “That’s great!”
“Yeah, it is. Thanks. But it’s also really expensive. And between paying for Hawthorne last year, fixing up the house after Oliver wrecked it last fall, and pouring a boatload of money into these renovations, Grandma B’s change purse is getting a little light.She keeps saying we can afford it, but if the rest of the summer is as slow as the past few weeks have been … we’re in trouble.”
For a moment, my mind lingered on an image of Oliver in the basement of Betty and Paige’s house, cutting out pictures and newspaper
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