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into the doughnut bag again.
    “Are you supposed to eat those?”
    He took a huge bite of a sugar-coated jelly
doughnut, chewed, swallowed, and smiled. “No. But what the hell,
I’m dying anyway.”
    Elena arrived with a tray of cups, napkins
and assorted accouterments. “Don’t you eat another one of those
doughnuts,” she ordered. “When your sugar goes sky high, I get in
trouble.” She took the bag from him, setting it in front of me. I
prefer muffins, and had bought two of them. I took out an apple
raisin one, and put it on the plate she provided.
    Elena poured the coffee, then pointed a
wagging finger at Chet. “No more,” she warned once more and took
her leave.
    I doctored my coffee. “So what else have you
been up to for the past thirty-two years?” He missed the dig.
    “I had my own dry cleaning shop on Grant
Street. I made good money. But then I got sick. Doctors said it was
the chemical fumes and smoking. I had to give up both. Last I
heard, you were in insurance.”
    “I got laid off. I was about to start a new
job when I got hurt. Richard brought me back to Buffalo. He’s been
a good friend. He’s done a lot for me.”
    “He owed you,” Chet said. “What his
people did to your mother—”
    I tuned him out.
    Richard and I had a rocky history. Some of it
was his fault—some of it was mine. Since I’d moved back to Buffalo,
he’d shown me nothing but kindness and generosity. I used to think
he only acted out of guilt, and maybe at one time he had. We’d both
come a long way since those days.
    I lost track of what Chet was saying, but my
ears pricked up when he said, “—and I hope you’ll look out for her
when I’m gone.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You’ll be the man of the family. It’ll be up
to you to take care of Patty.”
    “But I don’t even know her.” Good Lord, what
did the man expect?
    “She wants to meet you. How about
tonight?”
    “I have to work,” I answered automatically,
anxious to avoid any further entanglements.
    “What about tomorrow?”
    “I’ll call her later in the week.”
    “What’s the matter? Is she not good enough
for you since you live with those Alperts?”
    “Did anyone ever tell you you’re pushy?” I
asked, trying not to lose my temper.
    He frowned, but continued the interrogation.
“Where do you work?”
    “I tend bar at The Whole Nine Yards on Main
Street.”
    “A sports bar, huh?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you like it?”
    “It’s okay.”
    Our conversation continued in that vein for a
few more minutes, bantering back and forth like a tennis ball in a
tight match. Soon it became obvious the old man was tiring.
    “I’d better get going.” I rose from my seat
and offered him my hand. He shook it, and I had to grit my teeth
against the onslaught of emotions the old man broadcasted. Chief
among them was regret, but I wasn’t sure just what it was he
regretted.
    “You’ll come back soon, won’t you?” he asked,
his brown eyes hopeful.
    “I’ll call,” I said, making no definite
promises. I headed back for the front of the house, but paused in
the doorway. The old man smiled at me and I was overcome with an
unwelcome guilt I didn’t deserve to own.
    Elena saw me to the front door. I could hear
the TV blasting once again.
    “You make him very happy, Mister.”
    “Is he good to work for?”
    She shrugged. “Sometimes good, sometimes bad.
This job won’t last too much longer, I think.”
    I nodded. “Thanks for taking care of him,
Elena.”
    She smiled and closed the door behind me.
    I walked slowly back to my car and got in.
I’d wanted to hate the old man. Instead, I felt pity—for the whole
lousy situation. My mother had loved him, but she’d loved Richard
more. And when my father left, it had nearly destroyed her.
    What had she ever seen in Chet Resnick? He
was nothing like Richard’s father, in looks, temperament or social
standing. Maybe she felt she’d married above her class the first
time. Still, a part of me