“ She was with you that night, Jim, as she’s with you every night and every day. She’s with you every time you think of her and often when you don’t.”
“ You mean in my heart.”
“ Not exactly, Jim. I mean, she stands with you, or sits next to you. Often she hugs you or holds your hand.”
I took in a deep, shuddering breath. A deep, deep breath. Talk about an emotional few months…and now this. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“ She’s with you in spirit, Jim.”
I shook my head. This wasn’t making sense. “She’s here now?”
“ She’s been with you every time you’ve sat with me.”
“ But I don’t see her.”
Jack smiled gently. “She’s sitting in the chair next to you, watching you, listening to you, laughing with you, and always sending you her love.”
“ I don’t know, Jack…”
“ You smelled her perfume, Jim.”
“ I was in the woods, for crissakes. There’re flowers everywhere.”
“ Flowers that smell like your mother’s perfume?”
Behind Jack, the McDonald’s staff was going about their various closing routines. The lights in the rear of the dining room turned off. The lights directly above us were still on.
“ You can see her,” I said.
Jack held my gaze. “Yes, Jim.”
“ Because you’re God.”
“ No, Jim. Because Mary’s sitting next to you.”
I looked at the seat in question. It was empty, of course. No shimmering mommy-shaped glow. No hovering ball of light. Just a yellow, metallic swivel chair with a smear of ketchup.
“ The seat’s empty.”
“ Do you feel her, Jim?”
“ I don’t know. We were talking about her. She’s in my thoughts…I don’t know.”
“ Close your eyes, Jim, and feel her.”
“ Do I have to?”
“ Just try it.”
I did as I was told, and with eyes now closed, I was acutely aware that I was sitting across from a bum in McDonald’s at closing time, looking like a fool. Beyond us, I could hear the sounds of trays being stacked, faucets running, orders being given to clean this or that. I smelled the golden hint of fries, the grease of burgers, and even ketchup.
“ Do you feel her, Jim?”
“ No.”
“ Keep your eyes closed.”
I kept them closed, feeling both ridiculous and oddly calm. It had been a helluva week. A helluva past few months. A helluva past two decades.
“ Good, Jim.”
“ But I don’t feel anything.”
“ Now look at your forearm, Jim.”
I looked, coming out of a semi-meditative state. My arm, I saw, was covered in gooseflesh. Just like the other night at the lake “What about it?” I said.
“ Do you feel anything, Jim?”
I thought about that. “A tingling in my arm.”
“ What do you think’s causing the tingling?”
“ A heart attack?”
Jack chuckled lightly. “Try again.”
“ My mother?”
The older man nodded. “Remember this feeling, Jim. Remember this sensation, and you will always know she is around, with you, touching you, loving you, remembering you.”
I took in a lot of air. My lungs ached with the effort. I closed my eyes again and couldn’t help but notice that the tingling along my arm had risen up to my shoulders and around my neck.
“ I think she’s…” But I couldn’t finish my sentence. It was too improbable, too crazy.
Crazier than talking to God at McDonald’s?
Jack said, “You think she’s what, Jim?”
Ah, screw it, I thought.
“ I think, well…I think she’s hugging me.”
“ She is, Jim.”
“ And you can see her?”
“ I can see her.”
“ And you’re not messing with me?”
He smiled. “How do you feel, Jim?”
The hair on my neck stood on end. Same with the hair on my forearms. A sweet tingling coursed through my upper body.
“ I feel great,” I said.
Jack nodded, pleased. He paused, then said, “She wants to tell you something.”
I blinked. “Tell me what?”
Jack cocked his head slightly as if listening. “She wants you to know that she loves you more than you can know. She also wants to thank you for keeping her memory alive. She knows that not a day goes by that you don’t think of her.”
Now the tingling around my neck turned into something warm, something loving. The tingling, in fact, now came to me in waves. Warm and loving waves. I think some of the hair on my head was standing on end.
Jack went on, and as he spoke, I closed my eyes. “She says she’s happy. She says she’s in a good place, a peaceful place. She says it’s time for you to be happy, too, Jim. It’s time. No more sadness for her. She says you’re her little angel, who isn’t so little anymore. She says it’s time to move forward, Jim. It’s time to move on. She says it saddens her to see you so sad.”
I covered my eyes with one hand. I fought to control myself, but I couldn’t, and the warmth I was feeling was too real, too pure, too loving. After a moment, I let go, and wept into my hand, and now the warmth and tingling moved from my shoulders and surrounded my entire body, and Jack’s voice seemed to reach me from far, far away.
“ She says she loves you, Jim. And you will always be her little angel, no matter how damn big you’ve gotten.”
I laughed a little, and so did Jack.
“ She has quite a sense of humor, your mother. She also says she wants a grandchild.”
I laughed again, but still couldn’t speak.
“ She says she’s not in pain anymore, and she’s happy. Very, very happy. But mostly she says she’s proud of you, Jim. So very proud of you.”
I wept quietly into my hands, feeling the loving tingle spread along my arms and neck and shoulders. I sat like that for a long, long time. And after a while, as the tingling began to fade, I finally said what I’d never been given a chance to say before.
I said, “Goodbye, Ma.”