When Sophie emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, she found McKay in his living room.  He sat on a distressed leather couch with his bare feet up on a wrought iron coffee table.  A standing lamp lit his face and upper body.  He was wearing a Patriots tee shirt and last night’s jeans.

Sophie slid next to him on the couch.  The towel rode up on her thighs and she pulled it down.  What did she really know about this man?

“Sports fan?” she asked.

“Former athlete.”

“I was wondering how you got the broken nose.”

“Running for a pass.”

Sophie smiled.  She felt a little like a homecoming queen. She snuggled up to McKay and said, “I guess it’s time for me to see the pictures.”

“Get close to the light,” said McKay.  He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly beside him.  He handed her the envelope.

Sophie took the package and said, “I’m a little afraid to look inside.”

McKay squeezed her shoulder and said, “You came here to look inside. You already know what’s inside.  You just need confirmation.”

Sophie extracted the packet of pictures from the envelope and held the first up to the light.  The sepia print was faded but the faces were fully recognizable, as were the surroundings.  It was taken shortly before Gershon left for America in the Chayevsky’s parlor. The faces were clearly those of Sofia and Gershon Polokov, but they were also clearly those of Sophie Gordon Stern and Patrick McKay.  Sophie stiffened but her face was impassive.  She looked at the next picture. 

Sofia was standing with Lila on a pier, holding an infant in her arms.

Sophie asked, “Who’s the baby?”

“That’s your grandmother.”

Sophie said, “My God, why have I never seen this picture?”

McKay didn’t respond.  Sophie flipped to the last picture and clenched her teeth.

A professional photographer had taken the photo in his studio.  The picture still bore the photographer’s name in the lower right-hand corner.  Lila and Max Birnbaum posed rigidly, staring solemnly at the camera.  Sophie ran a thumb across Max’s face.

“It’s Bobby,” she said.  “How the hell can this be happening?  What is this, some kind of joke?” 

She turned and looked at McKay. “Where did you get these?” she asked. 

“I found them in my parents’ attic in Dorchester.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.  Why would your parents have pictures of Russian immigrants in their attic?”

“The pictures have been in the attic far longer than my parents have been in the house.  They’re not even aware of their existence.”

“I still don’t get it.” 

Sophie’s head was starting to throb. She pushed her thumbs between her brows. 

“Let me try to explain.”

“Please.”

McKay settled into his seat and placed a hand on Sophie’s thigh. He said, “I feel strongly about what I’m about to tell you.  I hope you don’t take it as self-serving bullshit.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Patrick.  Just tell me how you feel.”

McKay sighed deeply and said, “I believe we’re destined to go through every lifetime with the same group of people.  The relationships may be different, but the people are the same.  It’s like an eternal partnership of conjoined souls. Have you ever passed a person on the street and experienced an immediate sense of recognition, a certain familiarity?”

Sophie nodded.

“More often than not, you move on and forget about it.  Not all the people you go through your lives with bear the same weight.  Most people have absolutely no recall of past lives, which is actually a good thing.  It allows them to fully experience the one life they’re living at the moment.  They think they’re starting out with a clean slate.  They actually aren’t, but there’s no need for them to know that.  It’s a blessing, really.”

Sophie asked, “Have we been cursed?”

McKay laughed and said, “It may sometimes feel that way.  You and I have always had a very deep connection.  Every time we pass out of each life, we promise to find each other in the next.  We invariably do, but sometimes it takes a long time.  Timing is everything.  I’ve been watching you all your life and you’ve been aware of me.  Physically, you preceded me into this life.”

Sophie opened her eyes wide and gasped.  “Have I seduced a minor?”

McKay laughed again and said, “Not even close, but you do have about ten years on me.”

“You’re way too young for me, Patrick.”

“Get used to it.  I’m it for you.  And, I’m younger than you in every lifetime.”

“Are you ever anything other than my husband?”

“Well, no.  Like most people, we start out as strangers.  We may come and go out of each other’s lives.  But, inevitably, we end up married.  For better or for worse.”

Sophie sighed and said, “I wonder which it’ll be this time.” 

“It doesn’t much matter.  We still seek each other out in every lifetime.  And, we unconsciously seek out others in our circle.”

“Aside from you and me and Bob, who else is in our circle?” 

“Aren’t you wondering what became of Lila?”

“Well, yes.  The last time I saw Lila, she died.  I remember that distinctly and I was only three at the time.”

“Do you recall what you were doing before she died?”

Sophie stared at McKay and said, “I was drawing a picture of you.”

Sophie tried to rise from the couch but McKay held her gently in place.  He said, “Tell me more.”

“Who are you, really?”

“I am Patrick McKay and you have nothing to be afraid of.  You have a few more things to tell me.  I’m here to listen.  Then, I will tell you about Lila.”

Sophie settled back down and said, “Bob and I unearthed that drawing from a chest in my parents’ basement just a couple of days ago.  A young Gershon was on one side and a young Lila was on the other.  Bob freaked out when he saw it and then, all hell broke loose.”

Sophie tried to rise again.  “I really need to get home to Bob.  Something’s gone terribly wrong with him. I just know it.”

“Don’t worry about Bob.”  McKay held Sophie firmly against him.  Sophie made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, then settled back down.

“I am worried about him.  I think he’s in danger.”

“Bob is not in danger.  Stay a little while longer.  Let me tell you about Lila.”

Sophie leaned back against the leather cushion and said, “Will you let me go when you’re finished?”

“If you want to go, I won’t try to stop you.”

Sophie wondered if she was dreaming.  It was all so surreal.  Maybe she would wake up and she and Bob would laugh about it. What harm could a dream do?

“Tell me,” she said. She fixed her gaze on McKay’s face.

“Lila took care of Sofia as a child and sheltered Gershon when he fled from the Tsar’s army. When you were a little girl, she watched over you.”

“I was with Lila every day.  She was very dear to me.”

“Yes, Lila was a born caretaker.  She married Max late in life.  She was quite a bit older than Max, but they did produce a daughter, Jeanette.”

“I knew Jeanette, too.  My grandmother used to look after her.”

“Lila was very happy to have a child of her own, but she was particularly devoted to Ida.  She actually delivered Ida, and she saved Sofia’s life doing it.” 

“I didn’t know that.”

“Sofia was still weak from losing her first child.  She would’ve lost your grandmother, too, if Lila weren’t around to attend to her.  Ida was a healthy baby, but Sofia had lost a lot of blood during her delivery.  It took months to nurse her back to health.  So, Sofia and Lila tended to Ida together and they both developed a deep attachment to your grandmother.” 

“I’m surprised Lila didn’t get married earlier and have a whole passel of children.”

“She had bigger fish to fry, in the grand scheme of things. Gershon brought Sofia and Lila and Ida to America and he introduced Lila to Max.  What you don’t know is that Gershon was with you on the day Lila died.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  My great-grandfather died soon after I was born.”

“You haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been saying.  Gershon was there – just not in the flesh yet.  How else do you think three-year-old Sophie was able to draw a picture of him as a young man?”

Sophie reared back and said, “Are you telling me the picture was alive?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.  The picture was a conduit; a portal into the next life, if you will.” 

Sophie shook her head, and said, “What was Gershon doing there?”

“He was there to remind you of who you were and to plant a seed of recognition that would germinate as you grew to adulthood.  He wanted you to feel safe when he presented himself to you again.”

“What about Lila?”

“He needed her for what was to come next.”

“Which was?”

“To give birth to Patrick H. McKay.”

“Jesus Horatio Christ.”

Actually, the H in my name stands for Henry.”

Sophie smirked and said, “So, you’re Patrick Henry?”

“Yes.”

“Well, give me liberty or give me death.”

McKay laughed and said, “Turns out, there’s not much difference between the two.”     

“I’m afraid to ask, is Lila still alive?”

“Oh, yes, very much so.  And, this time around, she actually does have a passel of kids, all grown now.  I have a sister named Lila.  However, the Lila of your childhood, Max’s Lila, has no recall of that former life.  She could pass Max in the street and keep going without batting an eyelash.  She’s a fifty-six year old housewife named Meghan McKay.  My father, John, owns a liquor store in Revere.”

“Did you ever say anything to her about your former lives?”

“Are you kidding?  You can’t spring something like that on the uninitiated.  It’s a rare gift to remember previous lives.  Meghan McKay does not possess that gift.  If I ever suggested she was anything other than what she was, she’d call the priest and try to organize an exorcism.”

“When did you become aware of your own former life?”

“When I was around three, same as you.  My parents thought I was strange – and I certainly was – but I learned to fit in.  You can’t screw around with oddball stuff like that in Dorchester.  I was a good student and ended up going to Boston College on a football scholarship.  I even played a little pro ball for a while.”

“What do you do now?”

“I’m an architect.”

Sophie sniffed and said, “I’ll say you are.  I’m afraid of what’s going to come out of your mouth next.  You’re not going to tell me my Grandpa Gabe came back as your pet Irish setter, are you?”

“McKay laughed and said, “No, he’s still waiting in the wings for your Grandma Ida.”  Sobering, he said, “And, in nine months and seventeen years, his wait will be over.  That’s who you’re carrying in your belly right now.