Happy chaos—my best description for the others at the inn—ensued, lasting several minutes, it seemed. Our five couples, counting Jefferson and Daniel, took one form. The other visitors, including Goose’s grandparents and relatives of mine, likely some belonging to our newest friends, too, were more like holograms. That was how I put it in the chat. We could see them. Smiles were exchanged, and happy waving, but hugs, to Goose’s chagrin, were impossible. Somehow, we just knew.
In the calm that eventually followed, the more ghostly looking spirits disappeared, only there for the briefest of visits with us and other loved ones. Jose was touching Jackie’s face, quietly staring into his eyes, their lips touching, but still. I knew it was Jackie. It had to be. The woman in the long, formal whit
