Josh went into the familiar, thick smell of the store. Since they were both Rhodies from birth, Josh and Lauren had never gone on a road trip of more than fifteen minutes without stopping for Dunkin’. Every time they went to the Cape, or Mass General, the airport, to Jamestown or Westerly, they’d hit Dunks and get their fix.

When was the final time they’d been? What was the last time he’d bought a coffee for his wife, such a small thing, but so precious? It would never happen again. He wished someone had told him. “Hey, pal, your wife will die soon, so this is the last time you’re gonna buy her a coffee. Savor the moment, okay?” He wished he’d been able to know all the last times so he could have enjoyed them, taken in every detail, every molecule of each moment. The last time they made love. The last time she laughed. The last time they held hands while walking.

“Hi,” the teenager behind the counter grunted. “What can I get you?”

“One hot coffee, black, and one medium iced latte with whipped cream,” he said.

He ordered, waited obediently, then took their drinks to the car. It was only then he realized he’d gotten Ben the drink Lauren always ordered.

“I . . . I got you the wrong thing,” he said.

“It’s okay. This looks great.” Josh got in the car and wiped his hands on his jeans. “You okay?” Ben asked.

“Yep.” After a second, he remembered Lauren telling him to share feelings with people who loved him. “I’m a little nervous,” he said. “Do you believe in this stuff, Ben?”

“Well . . . I believe we have a soul, and it moves on.” He took a pull of his drink. “In Korea, we have all sorts of traditions honoring the dead to let them know we miss them. Then I married a Catholic, and some of that has seeped in. So the short answer is . . . sort of, but nothing specific.”

“I think it’s complete bullshit,” Josh said. “Lauren wanted me to do this, though.”

“Well, then, it can’t be too bad an idea. But it also could be complete bullshit, as you say.” His face crinkled like crepe paper as he smiled.

Josh started the car. If he did somehow get duped into thinking Lauren was “there” or “here,” whatever that meant, how would he feel? Would he spend the rest of his life at Gertie’s, chatting with his dead wife? You know what? He’d take it. But what if Gertie said, “Sorry, kid. I got nothing”? Would he be furious? Crushed? A dolt for hoping for any crumb whatsoever?