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enough question. If I were to pass on—die—and you buried me, what would you think?”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous! How can you speak to me like that? You’re nowhere near dying. You shouldn’t think such thoughts.”
    The tension provided Helen with a wave of resolve that seemed to lighten her emotion for the moment. “No, but if , Gloria. If a truckdriver missed his brakes and knocked my head off my shoulders—what would you think?”
    â€œThat’s terrible! I would feel terrible. How can you say such a thing? Goodness! How do you think I would feel?”
    She looked directly at her daughter for a few seconds. “I didn’t say feel, Honey. I said think. What would you suppose had happened?”
    â€œI would suppose that a drunken truckdriver had killed my mother, that’s what I’d think.”
    â€œWell, then you would think like a child, Gloria.” She turned away and feigned a little disgust. “Humor me in my old age, dear. At least pretend that you believe what I’ve taught you.”
    Her daughter did not respond. Helen cast a sideways glance and saw that she had made the connection. “Mother, there is no end to you.”
    â€œNo. No, I suppose there isn’t, is there. But humor me. Please, darling.”
    Gloria sighed, but it was not a sigh of resignation—it was a sigh that comes when the truth has settled. “All right. I would think that you had been taken from this world. I would think that in your death, you had found life. Eternal life with God.”
    â€œYes, and you would be right.” Helen turned to face Gloria and nodded. “And what might that be like?”
    Gloria blinked and turned to the pond, lost in a hazy stare. “It would be . . .” She paused, and a smile curved her lips ever so slowly. “. . . like what we saw yesterday. Laughing with God.” Her eyes grew wide, and she faced Helen.
    â€œSo, then, would you want me to find that?”
    Her daughter’s eyebrows narrowed in question for a fleeting moment, and then she nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I would.”
    â€œEven if finding it meant losing this life?”
    â€œYes. I suppose so.”
    Helen smiled and drew a deep, satisfied breath. “Good.”
    She stepped close to Gloria, put her arms around her daughter’s waist, and pulled her close. “I love you, Sweetheart,” she said and rested her cheek on her daughter’s shoulder.
    â€œI love you too.”
    They held each other for a long moment.
    â€œMother?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œYou’re not going to die, are you?”
    â€œSomeday, I hope. The sooner the better. Either way, our worlds are about to change, Gloria. Everything is turning inside out.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    KENT WOKE at 6 A.M. on Friday, instantly alert. His plane departed at nine, which gave them two hours to dress and make their way to the airport. He flung the sheets aside and swung his legs to the floor. Beside him, Gloria moaned softly and rolled over.
    â€œUp and at ’em, Sweetheart. I’ve got a plane to catch.”
    Gloria grunted an acknowledgment and lay still, milking the waning seconds for the last of sleep, no doubt.
    Kent walked under the arch into their spacious bathroom and doused his head under the tap. Fifteen minutes later he emerged, half dressed, expecting to make a trip to the kitchen to ask Gloria about his socks. But he was spared the jaunt downstairs—he would not find Gloria down there because she was still in bed with an arm draped over her face.
    â€œGloria? We have to leave, Sweetheart. I thought you were up.”
    She rolled toward him and sat up groggily. “Oh, goodness! I feel like a freight train hit me.”
    Her complexion looked rather peaked, at that. He sat beside her and ran a finger under her chin. “You look pale. Are you okay?”
    She nodded. “Stomach’s a bit