“She gives you signs, Josh. You aren’t seeing them. She wants you to see the signs.”

He nodded.

Then Gertie turned to Ben. “You’re not his father, but she says you’re like one, and she thanks you for bein’ there for Josh.”

Ben’s stoicism crumpled, and he put his hand over his eyes. Gertie patted his arm. “She’s showing me a paper airplane? You’re throwing it? Did you make paper airplanes together, you and Josh?”

Ben nodded, his shoulders shaking.

“And there’s another woman she’s showing me. Like a sister, but not. Purple sparkly dresses . . . did they take dance class together? Something with dancing. She wants you to tell her she’s with her. She’s strugglin’, too, the not-sister. Best friend, that’s it. Her best friend.”

Sarah. He’d have to call Sarah. This would mean the world to her.

Gertie nodded. “Okay, she’s stepping back. She wants you to be at ease, to be happy, to know you’ll be together again in the next life.” She was quiet for a minute, then blew out the candle and looked at the two men. “Hoo! That was a good one, I think! Don’t you?”

Josh wrote her a check for $500. She hugged him hard, and then hugged Ben, and they left, not speaking. He drove to the end of the road to turn around; it was a dead end, facing the water. But he just sat there a minute, his hands shaking.

“You okay, son?” Ben asked.

He looked out at the bay, the water sparkling in slices of blue and silver under a sky heavy with creamy cumulus clouds.

“It was shocking,” he said.

“Yeah. Very specific.”

His hands were choking the steering wheel. “The thing is,” he continued, “does it make any difference? She’s still gone. What good does this do? Does it change anything? Do I go back every week?”

“I think . . . I think it’s just nice to believe she’s not a hundred percent gone.”

“She’s gone enough. I don’t want signs. I want her.” His throat was killing him, and he dashed his hand across his eyes. “Sumi said you have a church thing tonight. I’ll get you back.”

“Josh, if you want to talk more, son . . .”

“No. I’m fine.”

They drove back to Providence in silence. A thunderstorm rolled in, and when they pulled up onto his old street, Ben asked if he wanted to come in. Josh refused, thanked Ben, gave him a quick hug and then called Sarah. “Can I come over?” he asked, even though he was already headed her way.

She said yes.

She opened the door a few minutes later, wearing a David Bowie T-shirt and running shorts. Her apartment was somewhat untidy and unremarkable—piles of papers on her desk, a few coffee cups scattered about, mail on the counter.