“I couldn’t stop her,” Ben murmured as Josh was enveloped in Sumi’s hug. “Sorry.”

His mom came down the hall. “There you are,” she said. “I hear you’re going to try to make contact with the dead.” She raised her eyebrow.

“Mm,” he said. So much for Sumi keeping this a secret.

“You’re too skinny, so we thought we’d cook,” his mom said. “Do you want a glass of water?”

“I’ll take a beer.”

“Oh, you drink now? My only child doesn’t tell me that he’s lifted his self-imposed lifetime ban on alcohol.” She sighed dramatically, opening the fridge, then gave him a smile. Their own language . . . You could call a little more. I care about everything you do. I’m still here for you. He gave a nod. Message received.

Ben sat down next to him, holding his own beer. “Sorry about this,” he said. “I tried to hold them off.”

“No, it’s . . . it’s nice,” Josh said. He could almost hear Lauren’s laughter now. She loved how Steph and the Kims were almost a single unit and descended upon them at will.

He missed that laugh. God, he missed it.

His mother and Mrs. Kim fussed and sautéed, simmered and chatted, slipping Pebbles a treat here and there. No wonder the dog stole food.

But it was comforting, his two moms laughing and talking, Ben asking a few question about Josh’s latest project, taking a look at the plans. Ben had been an engineer himself before he retired, though his work had focused on city water systems. There was life back in the apartment. Fresh air and . . . well, a little happiness.

They ate, and then Sumi took out a piece of paper with at least twelve names on it, complete with phone numbers and websites.

“I can’t believe you managed to wait till after dinner,” he said.

“I know!” she said. “I’ve been dying to show this to you, but your mother said we should feed you first. So.” She pointed to the first name on the list. “This one I like because her tarot readings are good. Not phony. Hi, Pebbles, yes, baby.” She handed the dog a piece of pork, then pointed at the paper again. “This one, nice, but not always on, you know? When she is, she’s super. Angela? She’s amazing, but you can never get an appointment, she’s that good. If you’re lucky, a person cancels and you can get in. This guy here, I like him a lot, but sometimes I think he’s making things up. Every time I go, he tells me I’m about to meet my soul mate. Which, come on. I have a wedding ring on, mister! I already did that!”

Ben smiled. “True. She did.”

Josh cleared his throat. “How many of these have you been to, Sumi?”

She leaned back in her chair. “All of them. I’ve been doing it since my mother died in 1992.”

“Wow.” That was a lot of money down the toilet.

Ben glanced at him with a little shrug and a smile. “Whatever makes her happy.”

“Even I went once,” Mom said.

“What?” Josh almost choked with surprise.

She shrugged. “Why not? It was fun. He said there was travel in my future, and there was travel in my future.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s travel in everyone’s future, a person could say.”

She laughed. “It was an experience, Joshua. Be open to new things.”

“I’m trying. I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Why not?” she asked, sipping her tea.

“Because you tell me everything.”

“Clearly not.”

“Is there anything else you’re hiding? Do you have any more children? Did you secretly marry my birth father?”

“Joshua.” She gave him her best calm yourself look. “I have no idea where your father is or even if he’s alive.”

“Your psychic didn’t tell you?”

“I never asked.” She ate a piece of broccoli. “But in case you were wondering, your grandmother watches over you and loves you.” She winked at him.

Josh sighed. “I think this will probably be a waste of time.” He glanced at Ben. “Will you come with me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it,” Ben replied.

* * *

HE CHOSE THE medium named Gertie because it felt like an honest name. There was one named Moonflower, another named Ariella Borealis, which Josh did not think was her given name and which therefore presented credibility issues.

Gertie Berkowitz, however . . . that was a name you could trust.

On the appointed day, he and Ben drove to Tiverton, a wealthy little town on Narragansett Bay notable for its meandering stone walls, water views and gracious homes.

Ben was the perfect person for this day, with his implacable sense of calm. Josh could’ve invited Radley, who’d come over the other night to watch a movie, but he had the feeling Radley would be too chatty. He could’ve asked Sarah or Jen, but . . . no. It might’ve been too emotional for them.

Josh had been careful when he booked the appointment, which he did simply by calling her 401 area code number (another good sign . . . it wasn’t an 877 or a 900 number). He blocked his own number before dialing so she couldn’t look him up that way. He gave his name as Joshua—no last name, in case she was the Googling type, picked a time, and that was it.

Being a man of science, he read up on mediums. Most would speak in generalities and watch you for clues. At best, Josh thought, they were simply very empathetic and good at reading people, hoping to give comfort. At worst, they preyed on the grieving by asking leading questions, then parroting back the information. “Was water significant to your mother? She’s showing me water.” Honestly. Who didn’t have some connection with water? People were 72 percent water on average. Everyone had some beach, river, pond, creek, salt marsh they loved. And then the bereft person would say, “Yes! We went to the beach when I was little!” and the psychic would say, “Yes, that’s exactly what she’s showing me.”