Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

46

Jesse stood in the back of the rec room at the Hebrew Home for the Aged, watching as a group of elderly men and women were led through a rigorous set of exercises, supervised by a fit-looking middle-aged guy in a light blue T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

When the drill ended, many of the participants simply sank to the floor, some breathing heavily, all weary from their exertions.

Jesse walked to where Donnie Jacobs was sitting and knelt down beside him.

“That’ll get the old ticker going,” Jesse said.

“I’ll say,” Donnie said.

“Looking good, Donnie,” Jesse said.

Donnie stared at him.

“Thank you,” he said.

Then he stared off into space, his eyes blank.

“It’s me, Donnie. Jesse.”

Donnie looked at him.

“Jesse,” he said.

“Your friend. Your former client.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, Jesse. My memory’s not what it used to be. You say you were my client?”

“You were my accountant.”

“I was?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. I’m sorry, Jesse. I seem to be quite confused about things these days.”

“Not to worry.”

“You came here to see me?”

“I did.”

“Because I was your accountant?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“I’m sorry, Jesse. I feel like such a jerk.”

“It’s all right, Donnie,” Jesse said. “I understand.”

The man who had been leading the exercises began to clap his hands for attention. The room quieted.

“That’s all for today,” the man said. “Same time tomorrow. Lunch is next.”

The various exercisers got up from the floor and started to file out of the gym. Jesse stood and offered his hand to Donnie, who took it. Jesse helped him up, and together they wandered outside.

“How do you like it here,” Jesse said.

“Emma brought me here. It’s where I live,” Donnie said.

“And you like it.”

“I do.”

“And they treat you well.”

“I think so.”

“You look a whole lot better than you did at Golden Horizons.”

“Golden Horizons?”

“Where you lived before.”

“I lived there before?”

Jesse nodded.

An attendant came hurrying in their direction, his face registering a measure of concern.

“Donnie,” he said, “we’ve been looking for you. It’s time for lunch.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said. “It’s probably my fault for delaying him.”

“And you are,” the attendant said.

“An old friend come to visit.”

“I’m afraid I need to take Donnie for his lunch.”

“That’s fine,” Jesse said to the attendant.

To Donnie he said, “You take good care, Donnie.”

“Thanks, Jesse,” Donnie said. “I have to go eat my lunch now.”

Jesse smiled and watched as the attendant led Donnie away. He shook his head and stood there for a while. Then, finally, he gathered himself and left the building.