"Waiting for her-why?" Anne implored. "Why is he waiting?"
Old Reg held out his arms, shaking his head in question. Ethel squeezed Anne's hand, leaning close beside her in the seat they shared. "Dear, I don't think it's about any of that silly unfinished business rubbish you see in the movies. I think we've all lived other lives-some of us have lived many and have the wisdom of that experience; others of us are relatively new spirits, still with much to learn. I think you may have been young Patricia in your most recent life. I think it's about your present life when your spirit is searching for something in the past. There's something missing in your life, dear. Nick wants to show you."
Anne sniffled. "He showed me about love," she managed to get out. "He showed me what it is to be loved," she added, blubbering.
Ethel held her, patting her shoulder. "There, there, dear. It's not a bad thing," she said warmly. "It's a very good thing. You'll see."
"I've never been in love," Anne said, gathering herself. "I've never felt anything like what I felt yesterday, in that dream."
"Not a dream, dear-it was a memory."
"A memory?"
"Well, of sorts. You see, our memories are only for our current lives-not to be taken with, unfortunately. It's only the wisdom we get to keep and accumulate. But have you ever experienced déjà vu?"
"Have I? You bet I have," Anne laughed. "All day yesterday for starters!"
"Yes, exactly. You see we don't get to keep our memories-not yet! But one day we will. One day everything will be returned to us-those of us who are chosen."
"Chosen?"
The old woman smiled. "I know. A witch, right?"
Anne remembered the hippie girl; saw her in the elderly woman before her. Something had changed in the intervening years. She was a deep pool now. "No. Of course not."
"Oh, it's fine. I kind of like being the local witch. It keeps the salesmen from knocking on my door."
They all laughed.
"But what do you mean, chosen?" Anne pressed with interest. "Who gets chosen?"
"Just the good among us, dear. We don't get to keep our memories yet, but the kindest hearts among us can get a special exemption sometimes."
Anne blushed. She was kind. She deserved a special exemption.
"Yes, dear, you do," the wise old woman said, as if reading her mind. "And what did you learn from our Nick and your memories?"
"I learned about love," Anne said, her voice catching again. "I just learned about being loved by a man."
The elderly couple claimed each other's hand and exchanged a knowing smile.