“I only said I wanted to ask her a question. You were the one who said your clients like to come back again and again to talk to their loved ones, but I don’t think I’ll want to.”

“Oh my, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Do your clients usually have happy reunions with their dead family members?”

Plainly, she didn’t want to answer that. “Sometimes it can be . . . painful,” she admitted. “Do you think your reunion with your mother will be painful?”

“I hope not, but that depends on her, doesn’t it?”

“Was she, uh, difficult?”

“Difficult” was a good description, but he didn’t want to give too much away. “She wasn’t easy to get along with, but she’s been gone a long time now.”

“And you’ve come to terms with her memory. I’m glad you’re trying to reach her. That can help a lot. Often you discover that the departed person is sorry for what they’ve done in life.”

“Is there still a chance for them to get into heaven if they make amends?” he asked with a smirk.

“There is no heaven or hell in the afterlife,” she said so solemnly that he knew this must have been a sacred tenet of spiritualists or at least something they spouted to their clients to make them feel better.

“Are you saying there’s no point in trying to be good, then?” he teased.

“I think you will be happier in the afterlife if you have no regrets,” she said with a small smile. She picked up her fork and started eating again.

“But if it wasn’t for the regrets, you and Madame Ophelia would be out of business,” he said, startling her.

“I never thought of it that way before.”

“Neither did I, but I never thought about spirits and afterlives before, either.”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I guess it’s just human to have regrets. We can’t be perfect no matter how hard we try.”

“No, we can’t, but if we aren’t sorry for what we do, we won’t have any regrets, either.”

“Is that how you usually live your life?” she challenged.

It was, of course, but he managed a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid not. I usually regret most of the things I do.”

She gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you won’t regret consulting Madame Ophelia.”

Since he had rarely regretted helping Lizzie with her do-gooder projects, he had to agree.

—

Elizabeth, Gideon, and Mother Bates had just settled into a pew the next morning at church when a familiar young man sat down in front of them.

“Aren’t you afraid lightning will strike you?” Elizabeth asked her brother softly, knowing the somber tones of the organ prelude would enable her to speak to him without being overheard.