At ten feet I said, "Good morning."My mystery friend said with a serious look, "And good morning to you."I kept walking as my brain tried to put every...hing together. She had talked to me! She did not smile, but she had at least talked. And more surprising, she was not an American because the voice that wished me a good morning had a lilt that no American would have—her voice had that unmistakable sound of Ireland. My mystery friend was Irish! I thought, "And she sounds as if she just came over. ‘Have to go … rest, now … Jenna …’ Jenna lay quietly as her dead husband’s presence disappeared from her mind. For several minutes she laid on the bed, just breathing and holding still. She focused on the wetness between her legs. It didn’t seem like the gush of a man was there. Finally she squatted in the bathroom and used a tissue. She smelled it. The evidence was definitely hers alone. What had she expected? He’d told her it was all in her mind. Still it was disappointing. How wonderful it. More

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