“That’s great,” Wally replied. “I can’t wait to walk in on Mr. Sullivan telling Sparkles that he’s crying because he never got the proper opportunity to say farewell to his wife.”

“You won’t be there at all,” Angie said.

Then, out of the blue, the members of the phone sex clique started to croak. The first was Mr. Olson, the sadist. The coroner ruled he had suffered a massive myocardial infarction. We found him slumped over in bed, pajamas only half on, the bulk of his pacemaker useless inside his chest. The next to go was Mr. Klein, the foodie. The cancer in his bowels grew back, and he was transferred for treatment. Wally still cracked jokes at his expense, supposing the poor guy was calling the hotlines from Northwestern Memorial, telling girls he wanted to eat his fruit cups and Tater Tots off their tits. Mr. Harris, the diabetic with the nurse fetish, was stable but hadn’t placed an outgoing call in forever. We guessed this reticence was caused by Angie getting other nurses to cover his room. That left only Mr. Sullivan and Mr. Rogers, and our incontinent Casanova had also seemingly gone silent. Wally hadn’t played me any of his conversations, and Jill had stopped asking questions. She’d become more aloof in general—calling less when she was away, not in the mood for sex when she was home. So when I saw the light to Mr. Rogers’s phone go on when I was manning front reception on my own, I picked up to listen. Jill was in San Francisco; I had just said good night to her on my cell. I felt an unwelcome wave of déjà vu upon immediately hearing her voice. Of course, this was followed by the recognition that it wasn’t a surprise.

JILL: I don’t think he suspects. Besides, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I haven’t cheated on him.

MR. ROGERS: What is it that you love about him?

JILL: I’m not actually sure. I think I fell in love with his hands. I thought it was nice when he told me that he took care of old people for a living. I liked imagining his hands at work, attending to needs. There was something kind about their clean nails. It feels like there’s something missing in our relationship, though. He doesn’t really want to delve into emotional stuff. I know his father bailed on his mom after she was diagnosed with ALS. They managed on their own for a few years until her condition forced them to hire a live-in nurse. We really don’t have to go into all that. What do you want to talk about tonight?

MR. ROGERS: I’ve been thinking a lot about a girl I used to know. One summer, I worked in the kitchen of a hotel in Maine, mostly washing dishes and drinking with the chefs. The family who owned the hotel also owned one of those corporate coffee brands. Their daughter was there on vacation from Radcliffe, and we got to know each other.