Free Guilt by G. H. Ephron Page B

guess I’m not sleeping very well. I thought I was getting over it, but the new bombing brought it all back.” A tear slid down her cheek. She scrounged a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “I know this is going to sound weird, but I’ve been seeing Mary Alice.”
    â€œI keep thinking I see her, too,” Annie said. It had happened day before yesterday. Annie was walking to her car after work. A young blond woman crossed the street, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. Before she could stop herself, Annie called out, “Mary Alice!” Of course, Annie caught herself right away. She felt foolish and very sad.
    â€œNot thinking that I see her. Really seeing her seeing her,” Jackie said.
    They were stopped at a light. Jackie fingered the crystal she wore around her neck. Annie knew she was into holistic healing and auras—but talking to the dead?
    â€œDon’t look at me that way,” Jackie said with a tired laugh. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going crazy or anything.”
    The light changed and Annie accelerated down Prospect Street toward Mem Drive. “So you saw her?”
    Now Jackie had her hands in her lap. She was kneading one over the other. “It happened this morning. I woke up with this strong feeling that I wasn’t alone. It was dark in the room, but I could see something, a shadow at the foot of my bed. I had this really strong sense that someone was there. I got scared. I mean, what if it was Joe?
    â€œThen I heard her. Not a sound, really, more like sparks passing through me, like she was channeling words to me instead of saying them. She was calling my name.”
    Annie listened, driving on automatic pilot as traffic crawled along Mem Drive. She almost didn’t see the man in running shorts who was trying to cross the street in the crosswalk—a foolhardy thing to do in this town. Jackie braced herself against the dashboard as the car lurched to a halt.
    â€œBut here’s the thing,” Jackie went on. “I know this is crazy because she’s dead, but I wanted to ask her if she was all right. I tried to say something but I couldn’t make a sound. I couldn’t even raise my head. My chest felt heavy, like someone poured cement all over me.
    â€œThen Sophie came into my bedroom. She asked who I was talking to. Did I have a bad dream? I could tell she couldn’t see Mary Alice. She crawled into bed with me. By then, Mary Alice was gone.” Jackie held a trembling fist to her mouth. “Sophie said, ‘Who were you talking to, Mommy?’ Annie, do you think she heard Mary Alice, too?”
    Annie turned up Peter’s street. She didn’t know what to say. The rational part of her knew this was nothing more than Jackie’s heart playing tricks on her. Still, there was something intoxicating about the possibility that Mary Alice wasn’t simply gone, forever gone from existence, that she might be watching over them from another place and trying to communicate.
    Annie pulled up in front of the house. Peter’s car wasn’t there yet. Pearl was sitting on the front steps wearing lavender sweatpants and a matching zippered sweatshirt. Mr. Kuppel, Pearl’s long-time “friend,” who was semiretired and worked part-time at a local video store, was raking leaves. Annie was glad they weren’t huddled inside watching the news, which was undoubtedly reporting every bomb threat and pundit’s theory.
    She tooted the horn and got out. Mr. Kuppel paused and waved. He leaned against the rake, took off his cap, and ran his arm across his forehead. His zippered tan jacket stretched across his ample middle and his face was flushed. Jackie got out of the car and shaded her eyes.
    With a shrill, kamikaze scream, Sophie came tearing out from the side of the house, took a flying leap, and landed in the leaves. Annie laughed. Jumping into leaf piles used to send her sister,