“Second sight,” he admitted. “And I think you’re right. She had an easy life, and she was missing a little . . .” He paused to find the right word.

“Gravitas?”

“Yes. Exactly.” Was he gossiping about his wife? He pushed his fork into the unnecessary whipped cream that accompanied his cheesecake, making a pattern and then smoothing it out and repeating the motion carefully, finding peace in the repetition. “But the next time we met, she was different. There was more . . . there was more to her. And she was only eighteen that first time. She had the right to be . . . young. Carefree. Goofy.”

Sarah nodded and wiped her eyes, managing a smile. “She was awesome when she was goofy.”

That was the truth. Lauren could make everyone laugh, herself most of all. How many nights had she fallen asleep giggling at her own joke, or starting a tickle war with him? She’d laughed in her dreams, even. “What were some of the goofy things you guys did together?” he asked.

“Oh, God. We used to write romance stories in school about our teachers and pass them back and forth. We’d torture Jen if I was sleeping over, spying on her, hiding in her closet to scare her later. Lauren loved talking in an accent with strangers. Russian was her best, I think.”

He hadn’t known that. The little tidbits were better than the dessert. Things he could take home later and play over and over. He felt unexpectedly grateful to Sarah, sharing all these prized memories.

The server came over, asked if they’d like more coffee. “Just the check, thanks,” Sarah said, so that was the end of the evening, he guessed. It was strangely disappointing. He’d never enjoyed Sarah so much, this different, more honest side of her (and yes, hearing stories about Lauren).

“How are you doing with the letters?” Sarah asked when the server left.

He was silent a minute, considering his answer. “They’re . . . they’re good. They help.”

She waited for more, but he didn’t offer anything else. “Asmaa told me about the children’s garden, and how you’re volunteering there. Lauren would really like that.”

His throat tightened at her words. “Thanks,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You made her so happy, Josh.”

He looked at the crisscrosses in the whipped cream, then smoothed them out and remade them, more carefully this time.

It’s okay to show how you feel, Lauren had told him on more than on occasion, especially after her diagnosis. You’ll be surprised at how kind most people are.

Easier said than done. But he forced himself to look at Sarah and gave a nod, abruptly glad that their dinner was over.

21

Joshua

Still damn month seven because time seemed frozen, letter number seven

September

IT WAS ONLY a few sentences, but those sentences made his joints zing with adrenaline and a little horror.

My sweet darling Josh, hello!

I have a wicked fun thing for you this month. You ready?

 See a medium.

 Oh, come on! Why not? It’ll be fun. You know you want to see if there’s a GB, my darling atheist. Give it a shot! You never know. Maybe I’ll appear and we can sneak off for a paranormal shag. Or maybe I’ll be busy doing angelic, miraculous things and you won’t hear from me. If that’s the case, know that I’m doing THE LORD’S WORK saving children from being hit by buses, rescuing kittens, etc.

 But I know what I believe: I believe in you and me. Forever.

 I love you.

 Lauren

She had to be kidding.

She wasn’t kidding.

This . . . okay, he would need help for this one. His mother was out; being Lutheran, her religious focus had been on ideas such as Jesus died horribly for you, you wretch, and therefore you should make casseroles for potluck suppers. Mrs. Kim, though, was a hard-core Catholic and had saints for every occasion.

He picked up his phone and called their landline, since they were of the demographic who only turned their cell phones on if they wanted to make a call. “Ben? Hi, it’s Joshua.”

“Hello, son. What’s new?”

“Um . . . do you know any . . . uh . . . any mediums?”

There was a long pause. “I think you better talk to Sumi,” he said. “She loves that crazy woman on TV. The one with the hair?”

“Yeah. Lauren did, too.” Which is probably why she gave him this ridiculous task.

“Hang on, Josh.” He passed the phone to his wife, saying, “Josh wants to see a medium.”

Sumi squealed with joy. “Oh, my darling, this is wonderful! Wonderful! I’m sure Lauren will come through for you, sweetheart, she loved you so! Loves you. You won’t regret this, these people, they’ve been blessed with a gift, it’s amazing, do you watch Long Island Medium? Or Mama Medium? They’re so gifted! I’ve been to a few of these, so I’ll send you a list, okay? Oh, this makes me so happy! So happy, Joshie. It will comfort you. You should take your mother! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Oh . . . yeah, no, she’s not . . .”

“She’s not yet!” Sumi cried. “She will be!”

“Maybe we don’t mention this to her,” Josh said. He could already picture her eye roll. He already felt dirty himself.

“I’ll email you the list, okay? Or do you want me to come over?”

“Email is fine.”

“Okay, darling! Bye!”

Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. Josh got up from his computer and opened it to see the Kims and his mother.