The Sense of Reckoning Read Online Free Page A

they’re not getting dessert”—and finally he reported that they had paid and were leaving. He gave them a wave.
    Mike got Ann’s uneaten entree boxed up and wished the hostess a good day as they left. Ann wished he wasn’t so damn cheerful.
    They were walking toward Mike’s Audi when the driver door of an immaculately clean pickup opened and Dan emerged. He trotted toward them and they stopped to let him catch up.
    “Hey,” said Dan when he reached them. “Would it be okay if I talked to Ann for a minute?”
    Mike glanced at Ann, who nodded. “Sure, no problem,” he said and strolled away.
    Despite the warm October afternoon sun, Ann pushed her hands deeper into her jacket pockets. They stood in silence for a few seconds, then Dan said, “Wow, that was something.”
    Ann looked toward where Mike was looking in the window of a women’s clothing store. Women’s clothing not being Mike’s thing, she guessed that he had picked it as a location far enough away that they would have no fear of being overheard but close enough that he could get back to Ann quickly if she looked like she needed help. “Dan, I don’t—”
    “I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you when you told me what you could do,” he blurted.
    Ann’s eyes snapped back to him. “Really? I mean, you believe I saw something?”
    “How could I not? You saw my daughter, right? Little girl with dark curly hair?”
    “Yes.”
    Dan shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s just unbelievable,” he said, then waved his hand as if trying to erase something in the air between them. “No, I don’t mean unbelievable—I completely believe you.”
    Ann glanced toward the pickup. “How about Amita? Does she believe me?”
    Dan also looked toward the truck, his face tightening with concern. “Well, at first she thought you were playing a joke on us—a really horrible joke. She thought you must have heard about our daughter from one of our old friends.”
    “No, I didn’t.”
    “Of course you didn’t. I think I convinced her you aren’t that kind of person.”
    Ann hesitated. “What did happen to your daughter? If you want to talk about it.”
    “Leukemia. It was terrible. Truly terrible. Especially after losing my sister to cancer so soon before. Well, you can imagine.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “When you saw her, was she ... clear?”
    “Yes, quite clear. It’s not always like that.” Ann didn’t specify that it had never been like that. Even with Elizabeth Firth, who had been the most lifelike spirit she had seen before Dan’s daughter, she would never have mistaken her for a living person.
    “What was she doing?” Dan asked eagerly.
    Ann thought back to what she had seen. “She was sitting in the chair next to your wife, following the conversation. She looked interested in what was going on—very engaged. She looks like a smart little girl.”
    Dan smiled. “Oh yes. She wanted to be an astronaut. One time she made a ‘Martian rover’ out of a coffee can and hitched it to the cat to pull around. You can imagine how successful that was.”
    Ann smiled with him, and felt a tug at her heart. This was the Dan she had missed so much. She could just imagine the talk he would have had with his daughter after that incident—gentle but firm about her responsibility not to treat the cat like a toy.
    “What’s her name?”
    His smile widened. “I like that you ask that in the present tense. Her name’s Sylvia.”
    “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
    Dan nodded, the smile still on his face. “Yes, she was. She was a sweetheart.” His voice caught a little on the last word. He glanced back at the pickup. “Listen, I need to get back. Amita was okay with me talking with you but she didn’t feel like she could handle it right now herself. We lost Sylvia less than a year ago.” He looked back to Ann. “But I really wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for doubting you. I was trying to