It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis : A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel: Good To The Last Death Book One

by Robyn Peterman

  Steve’s laughter made me laugh. My laughter made Gram laugh. It was like the old days… kind of.

  “Tell her I love her and there will never be a need for her to tan my ass,” Steve said, still chuckling. “Tell her that I’m here to make sure you are happy and whole.”

  I did as requested. I almost left out the whole part because I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I wasn’t asked to edit.

  “Steve,” Gram said, relaxing her body and lying back on the pillow. “I think I might have lost a few years off my life that I can’t really afford, but I want you to know that I love you. Not real thrilled to find out you’re gay and married my girl… but I still love you. Probably shouldn’t, but I do,” she added, looking in his direction.

  Steve wasn’t laughing anymore. My dead husband looked as if he wanted to cry.

  “I can’t see ya,” Gram announced, pointing Steve’s way again. “But you better not be crying. Just come on over here and give me some sugar. NOW.”

  “Is she serious?” Steve asked, confused.

  “Are you serious?” I asked Gram.

  “Darn tootin’,” she said. “I won’t be able to feel it, but I’ll know it happened.”

  “You heard her,” I told Steve as he slowly approached Gram’s bed.

  “I never deserved either one of you,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “Maybe,” I replied as my eyes filled. “But we’re damn glad we had you.”

  “Really?” Steve asked.

  My feelings were complicated, but the simple answer was always going to be yes. It would have been better for both of us if we’d each had our own partner and continued to be the best of friends. But it hadn’t worked out like that and no amount of wishful thinking would change the past. So, yes. The answer was yes. I might not have been loved like I’d wanted to be loved—as a woman—but I was loved completely by a man who did the best he could.

  “Yes. Really,” I said.

  “Do you two want to stay and watch The Price is Right?” Gram asked, back to her old self.

  “Umm, as appealing as that sounds—no,” I said with a giggle. “I have to study what’s in that box and figure out how to continue my life of crime without getting busted.”

  “Alrighty then,” she said, pulling me in for a hug. “I want you to promise me on a stack of bibles that you won’t go with him.”

  “Gram, that wouldn’t do much good considering I’m not a big believer,” I told her with a smile. “But I will swear on my love for you that I’m not leaving with Steve. He’s truly here to help me find happiness. I promise.”

  “I can live with that,” Gram said, giving me one last squeeze. “You tell Steve that while he stays in town, I expect him to visit me.”

  “Will do,” I said with a shake of my head. Crazy didn’t even begin to describe this visit. “Gram, I have one more question.”

  “Shoot, Daisy girl, but go quick. Bob Barker is getting ready to come on.”

  “Why here? Why do the dead come to our town?”

  “What do you know about portals?” Gram asked, ignoring the TV for a moment.

  “Umm… I know a portal is like a gateway or an entrance.”

  “Or an opening,” Gram said. “Our little sleepy town is the epicenter.”

  “Of what?” I pressed, wanting a full answer before Bob Barker had all of her attention.

  “An opening to Heaven and an opening to Hell,” she replied. “It’s the strongest entrance to the afterlife known.”

  “Bizarre,” I muttered as I got out of the bed. I picked up my purse and grabbed the box. “I was wondering why.”

  “And now you know, Daisy girl,” Gram said. “You sure you and Steve don’t want to watch the show? I just know I could beat both of you in the big showcase.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Next time, Gram.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said with a grin. “Steve, you be a good boy.”

  “He will,” I said, opening the door to her room and stepping into the hallway.

  Steve still stood next to Gram’s bed watching her intently with a smile on his face. Leaning in and giving her one last sweet kiss that she didn’t feel, he followed me out.

  “So you’re the only one who can see me?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I guess so,” I replied in a whisper just in case anyone was around. “Oh, wait. The other squatters will be able to see you too.”

  Steve smiled and shook his head. “Weird.”

  I couldn’t agree more. My life was so weird that it was hard to explain. However, it was mine. Weird or not, I had to live it.

  Amazingly, I was okay with that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “That was outstanding,” Steve said as he floated out of the car.

  The car ride home was fun. I’d driven Steve to all the places we used to go. He was surprised at how much had changed in the year since he’d died. I’d ended up telling him about the insurance company and the fight to get them to pay. He was sad and furious. However, he was grateful that Heather had helped me get it sorted out.

  “If there are any other places you want to see, just tell me and I’ll take you,” I said, grabbing my purse and the box and kicking the car door shut with my foot.

  “I think I just want to be at home with you,” he told me. “And we have to get working on your happiness.”

  “Well, before we find my happiness, I have to forge a bunch of cards and letters,” I said with a laugh. He was going to drive me nuts.

  “I wish I could help you with that,” Steve said. “But… I can sit and watch you like I did when you paid bills. I believe you used to say that doing something tedious was far better when someone watched.”

  “I believe I did say that,” I agreed with a smile. “It was some kind of bizarre validation that I’d done it if you saw me.”

  “Well, seeing as I have no place to go, I’d be delighted to watch you do all the tedious things you have to do.”

  “Much appreciated,” I said—and then froze.

  Gideon sat on my front porch staring at me. I immediately felt my chest heat up, which meant a blush was sure to follow. What was he doing here?

  “Well, alrighty then,” Steve said with a wolf whistle. “I think we might have found your happiness. Look at him. He looks like he wants to eat you alive. Daisy, he’s perfect.”

  “Umm… Steve,” I squeaked, trying to stop him. He’d taken me at my word earlier at the nursing home that I was the only living being who could see him. I’d forgotten about Gideon.

  Steve didn’t hear me. He walked right up to the porch and checked Gideon out.

  “He seems a little intense,” Steve pointed out as I wanted to melt into the ground like the Wicked Witch of the West. “However, he’s handsome and in excellent shape. I’d say the age is right too. He looks mid-forties—a very well-preserved mid-forties. This one is definitely straight—I get no gay vibe at all. The suit is high quality, which means he has money and good taste. Although, Daisy, I don’t want you going for a man just because he has money.”

  “I umm…” The crack about Gideon’s age almost did me in.

  Gideon’s brows shot up and he grinned when Steve pronounced him straight. However, Steve missed it. He was on a roll.

  “Steve,” I tried again.

  Again, Steve either didn’t hear me or was just so excited about the prospect sitting on the porch, he didn’t care. Gideon seemed amused—highly amused.

  “Okay,” Steve went on. “Only you and I know you haven’t had sex in a decade or so. This guy doesn’t need that info. Maybe we should watch a little porn so you’ll be more comfortable when you get down to it.”

  The ringing in my ears made it impossible to speak. If I wasn’t frozen in shock, I would have taken Steve’s head off and drop-kicked it. I knew I could re-glue it later. I couldn’t believe he’d just told the Grim Reaper I hadn’t had sex in ten years. It wasn’t exactly accurate, but Stan didn’t count.


  “Please stop,” I choked out.

  Steve couldn’t have heard the mortified horror in my voice. My best friend never would have thrown me under the bus and backed over me ten times if he had. But he just kept going—like the dead Energizer bunny on steroids.

  “I think we go about this very subtly. Invite him to dinner at least three times before you seduce him,” my dead husband suggested, getting more excited with each piece of horrifying advice he doled out. “This guy looks like he knows his way around a woman. If he turns out to be a player, we’ll kick his ass to the curb. He’d be lucky to have someone like you though. You’re beautiful and smart and even though I wasn’t into them, your breasts are tremendous.”

  And that’s when Gideon chuckled.

  Steve looked a bit surprised and whipped around to check in with me. I was sure I was the color of the big white box I was holding—or possibly green. I didn’t know if I was going to puke or pass out.

  I considered running away, but that would be even more mortifying.

  “He can hear you,” I whispered, wanting to die.

  “Shit. Are you serious? Is he dead too?”

  “No, I’m not,” Gideon said as Steve let his chin fall to his chest in embarrassment.

  Steve was embarrassed? I wanted to finish the hole Donna had started in the yard and crawl into it. The last five minutes were in the running for the worst of my life.

  “I think I might have overstepped,” Steve said.

  “You think?” I hissed, trying to figure out how to make all of this go away.

  Steve turned to Gideon and waved. “Hi. I’d like to apologize for yet again ruining my wife’s life.”

  “Your wife?” Gideon asked with a raised brow as he got up from the chair.

  “It’s complicated,” I said, practically running up the steps to enter my house.

  I would just go to my bedroom, lock the door and hide for a few months. Maybe Heather would let me work from home.

  “Damn it,” I hissed.

  I lived in the country. Why in the heck did I even lock my doors? I couldn’t even make a graceful exit from the worst humiliation of my life.

  Putting the box down, I ransacked my purse for the house key. Steve and Gideon watched me have what basically amounted to a profane panic attack. I’d never strung so many swear words together in my life.

  “Wow, Daisy,” Steve said with wide eyes. “I’ve never heard you cuss like that.”

  I didn’t grace him with a reply. He was so close to losing a body part I could taste it. However, I didn’t really want to have a go at my dead husband in front of Gideon.

  Gideon had already witnessed me being violent—his broken nose and sore junk were proof. A classy woman did not smackdown on her guests, even if her guests were asking for it.

  “Daisy, could we have a word?” Gideon asked.

  I could still hear the amusement in his tone and I wanted to throat punch him. So much for being classy.

  “Of course you can,” Steve volunteered quickly, yet again doing the wrong thing. “I’ll just float on into the house and you two can have a little privacy without me sticking my foot in my mouth and pulling it out of my ass.”

  On that paralyzing note, Steve floated right through the closed front door and left me stuck outside with Gideon.

  “Your dead husband is trying to find you a date?” Gideon inquired.

  “It’s a long story,” I replied, staring at the wooden floor of the porch. Eye contact was impossible.

  “Would you like to share?”

  “Nope,” I said. “It’s none of your business.”

  “I’m gay,” Steve yelled from the other side of the door. “Daisy didn’t know. I couldn’t accept it and I ruined her life.”

  “Oh my God,” I shouted. “You didn’t ruin my life, but you’re doing a damn good job right now.”

  “Sorry, my bad,” Steve shouted back. “I’ll go to the kitchen now. But… man on the porch?”

  “Yes?” Gideon answered.

  “Do you have a name?” Steve questioned. “Man on the porch sounds really cold. And considering all that I overshared, we should probably be on a first-name basis.”

  “Gideon,” Gideon said with a grin that made me have to look away.

  Why in the hell was the Grim Reaper so charming? Or better question… why did I find him so charming?

  “Gideon,” Steve yelled. “Daisy’s a catch. And she’s single in case you were unaware.”

  “Oh, I’m very aware,” Gideon said softly, staring straight at me.

  The idiot made me tingle from head to toe with just a damn look. And he did it with my dead husband standing on the other side of the door. This could not be my life.

  “One more question, Gideon,” Steve shouted.

  “Yes?” Gideon replied.

  “Well, two,” Steve amended. “Are you straight and do you have honorable intentions toward Daisy? Because if you answer no to either of those questions, I won’t approve of this relationship.”

  “There is no relationship,” I growled and threw my purse at the door. “Steve, you need to zip it. NOW.”

  “The answers are both yes. Yes, I’m straight. And yes, I have honorable intentions,” Gideon said in a voice that Steve could hear. Of course, he had to add a little something extra for me. “And carnal.”

  I nearly fainted.

  “Great,” Steve shouted. “I’m clearing out now. For real. Daisy, be yourself. You’re perfect.”

  The silence was deafening, and I was torn.

  Did I pretend like none of this just happened? Or did I acknowledge it and ask Gideon to leave and never step foot on my property again?

  He probably wanted to run like hell. I knew I would. Running was still on the table for me too. I could just sprint off into the woods and find a cave to hide in for a few weeks.

  “I want to take you to dinner,” Gideon said.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Did you miss the one-sided conversation that was just had?” I snapped, running my hands through my hair. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m not good at it.”

  “I am,” he replied smoothly.

  “I’m sure you are,” I shot back. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off his stupid lips. The memory of our kiss was one I’d take to the grave.

  “You have to eat. Right?” Gideon said.

  “Most people do,” I countered rudely.

  Gideon grinned. “You fascinate me, Daisy. I’ve never come across anyone like you.”

  “I’m working on being less fascinating,” I said, trying to yank my eyes from his lips. “And certainly you’ve come across far more interesting people than me in the last few centuries.”

  “Is that the problem?” he asked with a lopsided smirk on his face that I wanted to smack right off his head. “My age?”

  “No,” I said, deciding to look at his eyes. He needed to know I was serious. “You’re out of my league.”

  “I disagree,” Gideon said, now staring at my lips.

  My mouth went dry. I clasped my hands together so I didn’t reach out and touch him. What in the ever-loving hell was wrong with me?

  “Come to dinner with me. Tonight,” he said. “If you don’t have fun, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “And if I do?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

  “Then I won’t.”

  Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I eyed him cautiously. The man was almost impossible to resist. Did I even want to resist him? When I’d kissed him, I thought I was broken. Now… well, I was still broken but I knew it wasn’t my fault.

  “I’m broken,” I whispered.

  “We’re all broken in one way or another, Daisy,” he said, putting his hand under my chin and raising my eyes to his. “Let’s not call it a date. How about we call it two broken people who need to eat decide to do it together in a restaurant. Is that better?”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “A little,” I told him.

&nb
sp; “Good,” he said with a grin that made my breath catch in my throat. “I’ll be back to pick you up at seven.”

  “What’s the dress code?” I asked, wanting to smack myself in the head for agreeing.

  “Sexy. The dress code is sexy,” Gideon replied as he walked down the steps and out into the yard. “See you at seven.”

  I glanced down at my trembling hands and I sighed. This was such a bad idea. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t care how charming he was. He would crush what was left of me.

  “Gideon, I can’t…” I squinted my eyes and scanned the yard. He was gone.

  No car. No bike—not that I could see the Grim Reaper ever riding a bike—but how had he gotten here and where the hell did he just go?

  “I’m crazy and I’m an idiot,” I muttered as I gave the driveway and yard one last look. “He just disappeared. Like magic.”

  And now I was stuck having dinner with him. Dumbass should be my new middle name.

  Sitting down on the same chair Gideon had just been in, I inhaled the air. His scent lingered. I loved his scent. If I was honest, I loved the way he made me feel. However, I would never love him. Gideon was the Grim Reaper for the love of everything evil. He would never be my person.

  I needed my head examined.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You can’t wear that,” Steve said, floating over our bed and shaking his head.

  “Why not?” I demanded with an eye roll. He’d already vetoed six outfits. I was forty, not sixteen. I didn’t want to go. Why did it matter what I wore?

  “It’s all wrong,” he said. “You look like an asexual librarian.”

  Steve was right, but I needed armor. I had no plans to follow the sexy dress code.

  “Look,” I said, sitting down on the bed and kicking off the sensible flats I was trying to get away with. “Gideon is not the guy for me.”

  “And why not?” Steve asked, floating over and hovering next to me. “I might be gay, but I’m still a man—albeit a dead one. I know when a man likes what he sees. Gideon liked what he saw.”

  “Yep, I know that,” I said and then sighed. “But I’m not cut out for casual sex, which is pretty much all he wants.”