“Ain’t nobody in this kitchen but you and me. And I ain’t talking to myself. Least, not at the moment.”

“I’m fine.”

“Nope, something after you. Don’t have to be psychic to see that. Although I do have a little psychic blood in me, did I ever tell you that? My great-great-grandmother was a fortune-teller in New Orleans. Everything she wore, every day, was red. Anyway, I can tell there’s something weighing on your mind, Myra.”

“It’s just … I’ve been taking care of someone—”

“That patient you in love with.”

“Yes. Chip. And I think he wants …”

She says nothing, waits. Her white kitchen curtain lifts, falls. Outside a woodpecker knocks against a tree. I have always loved that sound, the wild industriousness of it. Finally, I look at Marvelous. “Let me ask you something. Do you think it’s wrong for someone to commit suicide? When, after very careful thought, they really believe it’s the right decision?”

“This be Chip you talking about, right?”

“Well …yes. I mean, what do you mean?”

“What you think I mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

“I’m not thinking of suicide myself. I’m not thinking that.”

Marvelous sits quietly, looking at me. Finally she says, “What you think I been seeing, all the times you come here? You think I never paid attention to who you really are? You think I don’t know anything ’bout how you feel? I see you sitting in my kitchen, and I see behind you, too, girl. But to answer your question, well, who knows the answer to a question like that? Answer is in every person’s heart, and all our hearts is different.”

“Yes.”

“’Course, all our hearts is the same, too, isn’t it the mixed-up truth? But I got to tell you …” She comes over next to me, pulls me against her. She is so warm, and her clothes smell so good. Ironed. “I don’t think it’s right for you. Don’t you think about doing that, now.”

“Okay.” I don’t know what else to say.

“When my Gerald died, I wanted to go right along with him. I used to lie in bed at night and pray for death, I begged Jesus to take me home. But I’m so glad now I didn’t die. It took a long time, but I’m so glad I didn’t. You hold on, baby. You’ll see.”

• • •

“Well. It’s nice to see you, but I’m very sorry to hear you haven’t used my gift,” Mrs. Peters says, after she lets me in.

“Oh, but I’m going to,” I tell her. “I’m starting a vacation today, right after work, and I’m going there. With a friend.”