I raised one eyebrow. “Wife?”
“Oh my God,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “You were buying her roses! My roses!” Pointing at my wedding band, she let out a long sigh.
“She’s been gone a year. Car accident.” I glanced at my platinum band. My fourth wedding ring, actually. I’d managed to lose the first three, and it had become a running joke between us. Every time I got a new one, it was substantially more expensive than the plain sixty-dollar band we’d said I do with.
“I haven’t been able to bring myself to take it off. But no, I’m quite single.”
Her face softened. “I lost my husband not too long ago in Afghanistan.”
“Hannah, I know this sounds forward, but there’s something between us. I need to get to know you better.”
“I get off at midnight. Maybe a quick drink and we can commiserate on widowhood?”
“Deal,” I agreed.
I waited for her to close out her register, drinking only water. I wanted to be perfectly sober for Hannah.
When she finally sat across from me, I decided to tell her the entire truth.
“Hannah, this is going to sound crazy, but my wife’s name was Rachel. She spoke to me that morning I met you – she told me to bring her roses.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open but she said nothing.
“I know it sounds insane, but I’m not talking about in my mind, or feelings and shit. It was out loud. She sent me directly to you.”
She nodded. “I believe you about the voice. But, Jonah, send you to me for what?”
“For another chance at happiness. At love.”
“We can’t…we aren’t…what?”
“You feeling nothing?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then can we just explore where this might lead? Can I buy you coffee or something?” I glanced at my watch, realizing I had zero pickup game. Coffee at midnight, idiot, I thought.
And then it happened. In the still-buzzing club, I clearly heard her speak again. But this time, she didn’t speak to me.
“Go with him, Hannah.” Hannah’s head jerked around, searching for the source of the voice.
“Did you hear that?”
She shook her head. But we both knew damn well that she did.
“Hannah, something’s…”
“Stop it, Major Jones!” She was shaking, her eyes nervously darting around the room.
“Jonah,” I said quietly.
She leaned in closer, as if I might shield her from the voices from beyond. “I’m afraid of all of this, Jonah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t be scared. Like I told you, it’s my wife, Rachel. She sent me to find you.” I paused to let her absorb my insanity.
She gulped hard and nodded. “Yeah, I think I know that.”
We stood up next to each other. I towered over her – this frail looking creature. She was ridiculously younger than me. I doubted that we had anything in common. And yet, standing there looking into her eyes, I knew I was home. I knew at that very moment that not only had Rachel forgiven me, she was giving me a second chance. No, not giving me. Demanding it of me.