readers know Spanish.”
She laughed a little loudly. He did too.
“Well, thanks again. Mel.”
“Any time.” She looked around and clasped her hands. “I like your shirt.”
“It’s just a collared shirt.”
“You don’t see those enough these days.”
“True.” He rubbed his hands together. “That’s a really nice dress.”
“Really?”
“Really. It is.”
More aggressive.
They walked from the patch of grass where the garden would be into her office. Mel’s room just had a desk, a phone, and a flat screen TV showing ads for various Rothschild properties. They looked at it a bit and listened to the music in the background. She walked to her desk and brought him a piece of paper.
“Did you see this article about us?”
“Of course.”
“Very exciting, isn’t it? And they ranked all our properties not just for size, but for quality too. It’s so flattering.”
“That’s true.” Jake handed it back to her. “I’ve done a few of those “Best of” surveys. Worked on them. Mine covered different subjects than retirement communities, of course, but I can still get an idea of things. I get the impression that this one’s on the up and up.”
“Aren’t all of them?”
“You’d hope.” They listened to the music again. He picked out a melody but couldn’t match it to a song.
“I should be going.” Be aggressive.
“Home?”
“Not quite. Some woman here wanted me to talk to her. I agreed. So I’m going to go make a house call.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know actually. I just got her number.”
Mel blushed. She sat on her desk and crossed her legs at the knees. Her toenails were painted red.
“Oh really, Jake? ‘Just got her number.’ Are you dating one of our residents?”
They laughed. She shook her hair back and touched his arm. He blushed the color of her dress.
“I wish. I’m not that lucky.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Nope.” Be aggressive.
“I’m sure you could find a date.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“You know you could.”
“Well then. Have a good day.”
He was sweating even in the air conditioning. The muzak was stuck in his head and he kept repeating the melody over and over. Then he repeated the command. Be aggressive. He was different now, he could pull it off. But he kept walking away. He felt the rush of air as he opened the door and a little bell rang. Now he had to talk to an old lady. It fit. The door started to shut behind him.
“Jake, wait.”
He turned back. She slid off the desk and stood up.
“I was wondering…”
“Yeah?”
“Since you aren’t dating any of our residents, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night.”
“I’m not sure.” He knew he was doing nothing. “Why do you ask?”
“Mr. Rothschild is having a banquet tomorrow. It’s to celebrate his various charitable donations. Of course, really it’s to celebrate him. A lot of people from the company and the community will be there.”
“Sure.” He got out his notebook. “If you think I should report on it…”
“No.” She clasped her hands again. “I was hoping you’d take me. Not as a reporter though.”
“Really?”
“I’m sorry. It’s probably unprofessional. A conflict of interest. I shouldn’t have-”
“No. I’d love it.”
“You would?”
“Of course. And not as a reporter. As a person.” He was sweating again. She laughed.
“Can you pick me up here sometime tomorrow night?”
“What time would be good?”
“7 PM. Fortunately, Mr. Rothschild doesn’t eat dinner as early as most of our residents.”
“No, that’s great.” He felt his neck turning red. The blush moved down his body.
“Great. It’s a date.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Oh, and it’s semi-formal dress. So I’ll be better dressed than this.”
She looked great. He wanted to tell her. Be aggressive. But he’d done well enough. He gave her a wave goodbye and the bell dinged again as he opened the door. He could feel himself smiling, even though he couldn’t see it. Outside, everything looked beautiful. It wasn’t even hot yet, even though it was…
He looked at his watch.
He was late. It was already 9:10. The old woman probably didn’t have anything to do, but he still didn’t like to keep people waiting. And he hadn’t been in any of the residences before. That was something to look forward to. He might even be able to work a detail or two into one of his pieces. “Residents in some condo communities put out welcome mats in the hallway, even though they are indoors.” A white haired woman walked by, dragging a dog along a leash. That welcome mat thing seemed like something she would do.
He walked briskly down the winding path. He knew where Building B was, but he wished he knew the woman’s name. At least he had the number: 112. As he reached the bottom of the path, he looked at his watch again. 9:13. He’d apologize to the woman before she started her little story.
But when he rounded the corner, he didn’t see the door to the building. He saw something else. Something he didn’t expect. The door to the complex was being held open by a rock. And two men in white clothes were going in and out. An ambulance was parked on the curb next to the building and the back doors were open. He ran around and looked in the ambulance’s cab. No one was inside yet.
He ran to the propped open door and grabbed one of the men on the shoulder, a short Hispanic kid who smelled like aftershave.
“What happened here? Is everything OK?”
“Sorry sir, we’re very busy.”
“I know, just tell me what happened.”
“An accident.” A walkie talkie buzzed but the kid ignored it.
“What kind of accident?”
The kid strained to hear his walkie talkie. Someone came out of the building-an elderly man wearing a red- brimmed hat. Jake turned away from the kid and caught the man.
“Sir, what’s going on? What happened here?”
“Oh, they wouldn’t let me look in. But this always happens. Happens every few days. A sad thing though.”
The man shook his head.
“What? What happened?”
He tipped his hat and started walking away.
“Sir,” Jake said. “Can you tell me what room this happened in?”
“Charlotte’s room.” He turned back. “She’s in room 112.”
The old man walked off and Jake ran his hands through his hair. Room 112 in Building B. He looked at the ambulance idling by the curb. He could imagine the siren spinning around, glinting red when it took her body away. Bright bright red. The same color as Mel’s dress.
