“Hi Gary.”
He tried to forget what had almost happened.
“Hello Jacob!” Gary usually shouted on the phone. “Jacob, I was talking to Meryl. I have an idea for a new story for you, one that will really knock socks off. People, they’ll be in the streets, running, their toes bare, yelling about this.”
Gary shouted something to his wife and Jake sat down and leaned back in his chair, waiting. Gary had a lingering accent from Eastern Europe. Jake didn’t know the country, but he assumed its name had changed a few times since Gary left. He wheezed into the phone.
“Wait. I think I pressed a button. Can you hear me on this thing?”
“I can hear you fine Gary.”
“Jacob-testing, testing. Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you Gary. Do you want to talk?”
“Jacob. I am going to test if you can hear me. This is a test.”
“What is it?”
Meryl yelled something on the other end, and Jake heard a beep.
“Jacob, I’m here. It’s me, Gary!”
“Great Gary. I can hear you.”
“Jacob?”
“Yes?”
“I think I forgot my idea.”
“That’s OK, Gary. I understand.”
“It was such a good idea!”
“I know. I know. I’m sure it was a great idea.”
“Well, that’s the way things will go. Do you need any photographs in the near future?”
“I should be fine.” The air conditioning had finally cooled him down. He put on an old sweatshirt he’d brought down with him. It hardly fit. “Thanks for calling, Gary. But I just have a little thing tomorrow with Mel. Then I’m talking to some lady and doing research at the library.”
“An interview with a lady? I’ll come out.”
“No, she’s nothing. Not a story-just a crazy woman. Don’t bother.”
“Where is it? Sunset Cove?”
“Well, yes. But really, we won’t run anything about her. It doesn’t have to do with the landscape piece. She just approached me randomly.”
“I’ll meet you at Sunset Cove. What time? Meryl, get me a writer.”
“Really, Gary, don’t bother. I’m going over around nine, but you don’t-”
“I’ve got a pen. 9 AM. Sunset Cove. Will we be needing my new special lens?”
“Gary, it’s not necessary.”
“No special lens?”
“No.”
“Anywhere particular in the Cove?”
“I’m serious.” He didn’t want to say it, but he needed to this time. “We won’t pay you for it.”
He waited for Gary to respond. He heard him breathing.
“No problem!” Gary shouted. “I’ll practice with my new lens. It’ll be perfect. And you wanted me to test it out. So 9AM, Sunset Cove. What’s the room?”
It wasn’t worth fighting.
“Fine. Room 112, Building B. I might be a few minutes later than nine though, so-”
“I’m there. And if I remember my idea, I’ll write it down this time.”
“Thanks Gary. All right. I should go.”
“Jacob?” He repeated it louder. “Jacob? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you Gary.”
“Jacob. Can. You. Hear. Me.”
“Yes, I can hear you.”
“Jacob?”
“Yes?”
“Good night.”
Gary hung up and left Jake holding the phone, shaking his head. At least he hadn’t had the cream soda.
CHAPTER 3
Things started so early in Sarasota. He got up near sunrise and took care of some work. Cleaned up an article about the best “New York” diners in the Sarasota area. None of them were very good, especially when you were on a permanent diet. He went for another run since he didn’t know if he’d have time when he got back. It went longer than he thought-by the time he’d showered, had breakfast, and gotten dressed, he was running late. When he got to Sunset Cove, it was already almost nine.
Mel had dressed up for him. He could tell. When he showed up that morning, she had on a red dress. The waist high, again, with a white flower print on the dress, scattered. She looked good. Maybe too good. Her hair looked wavier and a little darker than it had before. He knew he needed to be confident, so he asked her if the pattern on her dress showed the rare flowers she’d forgotten. She liked it. Then she told him she hadn’t learned the name of the flowers yet.
“So that’s all you came by for?”
“I just had to check that fact.”
“Oh, OK.”
He wasn’t aggressive enough for this job.
“Is there anything else that I should know?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sorry that we can’t get the landscaping people to talk to you. But I don’t think your 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-”