Page 68 of Wired Ghost

Sophie’s heart soared—there was no other way to describe the expansive feeling of joy that lifted her chest and filled her eyes with tears. She turned the key and pushed the door gently inward.

“Mama!” Momi shrieked. “You’re home!”

Ginger reached Sophie first, thrusting her nose into Sophie’s crotch and lashing her legs with a thick tail. Momi embraced her legs and snuggled into Sophie with her silky head. Anubis hung back, whining, and behind him, petite Armita clapped her hands. “Sophie! Oh, thank God! I thought they’d taken you in!”

“I need a hug. From all of you.” Sophie dropped to her knees and opened her arms wide enough to hold two dogs, a toddler, and a ninja nanny—and they engulfed her right back with their love.

Epilogue

Five days later

Sophie usheredDr. Wilson into her office at Security Solutions. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Dr. Wilson, that you came all the way from the Big Island to meet with me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Dr. Wilson looked younger than her years in a flowered wrap dress and low-heeled nude sandals that made the most of her athletic legs. “I was glad to get off the island for a few days. The eruption over there is causing a lot of damage, and everyone is on edge.”

“I believe it. I’ve been screening the news so as not to get too stressed, myself.” Sophie embraced Dr. Wilson in a welcoming hug.

The psychologist smelled of something lemony that reminded Sophie of Jake’s favorite citrus aftershave.Another painful memory.When would they stop coming?

“I’m always happy to work with you, Sophie, and don’t feel too bad about the extra travel. I’ve promised myself a little shopping trip at Ala Moana Center when we’re done.” Dr. Wilson looked around Sophie’s spacious office with its bank of windows, solid executive desk area topped by computer monitors, round work table with chairs, and stylish seating corner. “Where would you like us to sit?”

“Let’s get comfortable over here on the couch. It’s hard for me to switch to therapy mode in this work setting.” Sophie went behind her desk and closed the sheer drape layer to cut down the sunlight streaming through the windows—and to block the view of anyone trying to spy on them.

The furniture pieces in the corner area were done in soft, buttery chocolate leather, and faced a low coffee table in native koa hardwood. Dr. Wilson settled herself in a trim armchair facing the couch. She took out a tablet, one of the new, modern ones that converted handwriting to text. “You’re right about changing gears. Environmental cues create expectations that can help open the door to an effective session. But I know you have a lot to talk about, and the choice to do appropriate self-care here is as good as entering my office.”

“How do you like that device you’re using?” Sophie had fetched a square cardboard package from her desk, and she set the small box in front of her. They made conversation for a few moments as Sophie settled herself, making sure that tissues were handy.

Dr. Wilson pointed her stylus at the box. “What’s that?” The cardboard package was open at the top, its sealing tape cut. A handwritten address with Sophie’s name and a plethora of postage marked its exterior.

“I opened it, saw what it might be, and that’s as far as I got before I called you. It’s from Patty, Jake’s sister. But I couldn’t bear to open it any further to see what’s inside.”

Dr. Wilson didn’t try to comfort Sophie, to rush in with platitudes as someone else might have. She simply sat and waited; her intelligent blue eyes compassionate. “What do you think it might be?”

“Something that belonged to Jake.” Sophie twisted her fingers together. “I didn’t feel strong enough to look.”

“Do you feel ready to open it now?”

“With you here to give me courage, yes.” Sophie leaned forward. She opened the flaps of the cardboard box. Inside, a sealed envelope with Sophie’s name on it lay on top of a small, black velvet bag of the type used for jewelry. Sophie removed the missive and opened the envelope. A dove flying on the front of a simple card brought a prickle of tears to her eyes, and she opened it to see feminine looping handwriting.

She read the card aloud.

“Dear Sophie:

Words cannot express how sorry I am for my mother’s and sister’s behavior toward you during Jake’s death and memorial. Even if you hadn’t been engaged, as I believe you were, they never should have treated you so poorly. These ashes are a part of my portion from the funeral home. I want you to have them for whatever ceremony feels right to you in remembering him.

You would have been a wonderful sister, and that’s why I’m sending you our family ring, too. Jake mailed it to me for safekeeping more than two years ago. I know he wanted you to wear it; you’d have it on right now if he’d had more time on this earth. I hope this gesture makes up a little for the cruelty you experienced.

I, more than anyone, know how much Jake loved you.

Your sister, Patty.”

Dr. Wilson reachedfor the tissues at the same time as Sophie. Their fingers collided, and Sophie pulled out a handful and passed it to Dr. Wilson. They both chuckled a little, as they wiped their eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Sophie whispered.

“You can. Open the pouch.”

Sophie took the black bag out of the box. She opened the cord with trembling fingers, and upended it into her palm. The familiar cushion cut diamond ring in its antique white gold setting landed in her palm, along with a walnut-sized Ziploc bag filled with a gray, grainy substance—Jake’sashes.

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